After the Affair Falling into a Billionaire's Arms novel Chapter 86

**Clocks Lie To Hearts by Asa River Flint**

Julian cast a glance at Louisa, taking in her self-satisfied little smirk, and couldn’t help but return it with a playful smirk of his own. “The reward is—you’ll be accompanying me on a business trip this Saturday.”

The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the car turned as frigid as a winter’s night.

Louisa shot him a fierce glare, her eyes narrowing. “Mr. Tudor, surely you must understand that business trips are more akin to punishments than rewards?”

“Are they really?” he replied, his tone casual as if he were merely discussing the weather.

Louisa found herself momentarily at a loss for words. Under her breath, she muttered, “Con artist.” He was clearly trying to pull a fast one on her, and yet he had the audacity to label her the con artist.

Julian seemed to pick up on her inner thoughts, letting out a soft chuckle that danced in the air between them. “Have you ever encountered a boss who truly keeps his promises?”

Ah, the grudge-holder. Louisa mentally added another entry to her growing list of Julian’s traits: he held grudges, and serious ones at that.

Her predicament was nothing short of tragic—working tirelessly for her boss during the week, running into him after hours, and now, to top it all off, sacrificing her precious weekend to accompany him on a business trip? Who in their right mind would want to endure her situation?

Turning her gaze towards the window, she fell into a contemplative silence, her mind swirling with thoughts.

Julian glanced at her, surprised by the intensity of her reaction.

“Are you upset?” he inquired, his voice low and gentle, almost coaxing, as if he were trying to peel back the layers of her exterior.

Louisa’s body tensed involuntarily. Something felt off. She wasn’t genuinely angry over something as trivial as a business trip.

Forget about the trip—considering he had saved her life three times, she could dedicate her entire existence to working for him and still feel indebted.

The reality was, being in his presence felt surprisingly easy and comfortable. This effortless atmosphere often allowed her to drop her guard, leading her to speak and act without the usual overthinking that plagued her.

But now, the air was thick with awkwardness, and with him addressing her in that peculiar tone, she found herself at a loss for how to respond.

Just in the nick of time, they approached the entrance of their community. She feigned ignorance to his question, maintaining her silence.

Julian, sensing her retreat, chose not to press further and began to gather his laptop. However, just as they entered the complex, Louisa’s eyes caught sight of a familiar figure.

It was George.

He leaned against his car door, cigarette in hand, his expression a blend of impatience and anxiety. It appeared he had somehow tracked down her address after all.

In an instant, Louisa’s expression morphed into a mask of icy detachment, the kind that could chill to the bone.

Outside, George seemed to sense a shift and turned his gaze toward her direction. Without thinking, Louisa ducked down, desperately trying to escape his line of sight.

In the dim light of the car, George saw nothing amiss. The vehicle glided smoothly into the community, the shadows concealing its occupants.

George’s frown deepened as he stared at the taillights of the car, an unsettling feeling gnawing at him—a gut instinct that told him Louisa was inside.

The car—a sleek, black limited-edition Maybach—though understated, exuded an air of luxury with its elite specifications and prestigious license plate.

His expression darkened as if a storm cloud had suddenly gathered above him.

Jared approached, concern etched on his face. “Mr. Capulet, is something wrong?”

His own chest felt constricted, as if a heavy stone were lodged within it, suffocating him with heartache. Yet, he struggled to find the right words to offer her comfort.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, he reached out and gently tousled her hair, a small gesture meant to bridge the gap between them.

Louisa snapped back to the present, her gaze shifting to him, confusion flickering in her eyes.

He spoke softly, “Let’s get out. We’re home.”

For many, this night was destined to be one of sleeplessness.

For George. For Louisa. For Julian as well.

After showering, Julian emerged from the bathroom, the night already deepening around him. Clad in a dark gray silk robe, he poured himself a glass of water and settled onto the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling window, his eyes drawn to the luminous moonlight outside.

Yet, despite the serene beauty, his mind was plagued by images of Louisa’s broken, sorrowful eyes from earlier in the car.

Ten years of love—even if one truly attempts to let go—how does one fully escape that kind of pain?

He contemplated for a moment before picking up his phone and dialing a number. The call connected swiftly.

Julian asked, “Where are you?”

A lazy, sultry voice answered, “Regal City, just like I mentioned. Why do you ask? Missing me, Mr. Tudor?”

Julian snorted, dismissing her playful tone. “Enough of the banter. I need you to find something for me.”