Chapter 134
Chaos erupted in the study. The commotion, however, didn’t reach Sophia. She had already slipped away.
She and Julian returned to Willow Court. The butler had prepared this private courtyard just for her.
The Hall Residence was a sprawling, traditional estate. Over twenty courtyards of varying sizes made up the massive compound.
Julian himself held three properties: Pine Lodge, Willow Court, and Clearbrook Cottage, serving as his personal residence, quarters for female companions, and lodging for younger relatives, respectively.
Though Julian spent most of his years abroad, Madam Hall never ceased worrying about her youngest son.
She insisted the housekeepers maintain his properties meticulously. Thus, even after a decade of vacancy, the places remained impeccably clean and tastefully kept.
A measured distance, separated by Clearbrook Cottage, lay between Julian’s usual Pine Lodge and Sophia’s temporary Willow Court–close enough, yet discreetly apart.
Enfering the living room, Julian poured a glass of water and 3:05
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handed it to Sophia, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Sophia, are you alright? You look pale.”
“I’m fine, Uncle Julian. You’re the one who had a long day. Putting on that act with me, then taking a hit from that lunatic… are you okay?”
She accepted the glass, taking a careful sip.
With no outsiders present, Sophia had reverted to her usual address for him, maintaining the respectful tone owed to an
elder.
She believed his kindness stemmed from a familial
protectiveness, a duty entrusted by her mother on her deathbed.
The “Uncle Julian” pricked at him.
At thirty–three, only eight years her senior, Julian hardly felt that old.
The title seemed to widen a gap he wished didn’t exist.
Yet, hearing her genuine concern for his injury sent a surge
of
warmth through him, bringing a smile to his face.
Julian would never let her know the truth.
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In the study, he had deliberately scrolled through his phone, flashing their intimate photos and ID cards to provoke Damian.
The calculated move granted Bruce a justified reason to intervene.
Seeing his plan unfold perfectly, allowing her a measure of satisfaction, made the punch entirely worth it.
“Sophia.” Julian approached, pointing to the bruise on his face with a pained.
“Your ex–husband packs quite a punch. It still stings.”
Her worry was immediate, laced with reproach. “Does it hurt that much?”
“You shouldn’t provoke him next time. He’s unhinged! Getting hurt only punishes you.”
A spark lit in his eyes as he held her gaze. “Is that concern I hear?”
She answered after a slight pause, a faint, awkward smile touching her lips.
“Of course I’m concerned. You’re Uncle Julian.
After all you’re doing for me, getting hurt on my accq_nt… 13:05
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feel responsible.”
“Sophia, how about just calling me Julian?” he said gently.
He understood she needed time to adjust. There was no hurry.
He would give her time–time to settle into his presence, time for her own feelings to quietly take root and bloom.
His girl was nursing a devastating heartbreak; healing came first.
Seeing her puzzled look, Julian masked his true feelings, offering a practical reason with perfect composure.
“We have to keep up appearances. What if you slip up someday?”
The logic resonated.
Her expression cleared, and she nodded in agreement. “Alright then… Julian.”
Gently, Sophia guided him to sit on the sofa.
“Wait here, Julian. I’ll find Ford and get the first aid kit to treat that.”
Don’t.” His hand shot out, catching her wrist.
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With Damian’s fate uncertain, the entire estate was in an uproar.
Letting her wander out now, where misplaced anger might find a target, was a risk he refused to take.
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