Chapter 26 A Dream #2
“I haven’t really had anyone who stayed since my parents died,” she added, voice softer now. “I thought Vincent would never betray me… because we were friends for so long. Friends are supposed to be loyal, right?”
Her smile turned faintly confused.
“I think that’s why he hurt me so easily. He knew I was too starved for love to ever question him.”
Silence settled between them.
Then Juliet took a breath.
“But I’m not stupid,” she said firmly. “I would never go back to someone who betrayed me.”
Her expression held for a moment… then softened.
A warm smile spread across her face as she suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled into him.
“I already have a rich, loyal billionaire who loves me to death,” she said lightly, tilting her head up to look at him. “Why would I ever go back to a traitor like him?”
For a moment, Cassian didn’t move.
Then all the jealousy, anger, and tension in him shattered.
His arms tightened around her as something warmer replaced it entirely—something almost fragile in its intensity, as though her words had undone every wall he had been holding up.
A slow smile spread across his face as he tightened his arms around her, pulling her even closer until there wasn't a single inch separating them. He held her as though she was the most precious treasure he had ever been given, his chin coming to rest lightly atop her head as he breathed her in.
After a long moment, he reluctantly pulled back just enough to look at her. Gently cupping her face between his hands, he brushed his thumbs across her cheeks before lowering his head and kissing her once more.
***
It was a full house at Vincent's mansion.
The sprawling estate buzzed with life as members of his social circle mingled with acquaintances he barely recognized.
Laughter echoed through the grand living room, blending with the soft music drifting from hidden speakers.
Waiters moved through the crowd carrying trays of drinks while guests clustered in small groups, chatting, laughing, and toasting to one another.
The massive coffee table in the center of the seating area was already cluttered with several bottles of expensive liquor and countless half-empty glasses, evidence that the party had been going on for hours.
Vincent sat sprawled on one of the leather couches with Griffin and Nolan beside him, a crystal glass of whiskey resting loosely in his hand.
Although people frequently stopped by to greet him, he barely acknowledged them.
Instead, throughout the evening, his gaze repeatedly drifted toward the phone lying face-up on the table in front of him.
Each time, the screen remained stubbornly dark.
No missed calls.
No messages.
Nothing.
His jaw gradually tightened.
Lifting the glass to his lips, Vincent tossed back the remaining whiskey in a single swallow.
The alcohol burned its way down his throat, but it did nothing to ease the irritation simmering beneath his skin.
He reached for the bottle almost immediately, refilling his glass before glancing at his phone once more.
Still nothing.
Something inside him finally snapped.
"Fuck."
With a sharp curse under his breath, Vincent slammed the glass onto the coffee table.
The loud clang cut through the surrounding conversations, causing several nearby guests to turn and look in surprise before quickly looking away again.
Nolan and Griffin immediately turned toward him.
The two exchanged confused glances before looking back at Vincent, whose expression had darkened considerably. His brows were tightly furrowed, and the muscles in his jaw flexed as he stared at his phone with barely restrained fury.
"What happened?" Griffin asked cautiously, setting his own drink down.
Vincent let out a harsh breath and dragged a frustrated hand through his hair, leaving the dark strands disheveled.
"It's been an entire fucking month," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "A whole fucking month, and Juliet still hasn't come back. She hasn't even called me." He let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. "Not even once."
Grabbing the whiskey bottle, he poured himself another drink with more force than necessary, amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim.
"What the hell is wrong with her?" he demanded, turning sharply toward Griffin.
His grip tightened around the glass until his knuckles turned white.
"We've known each other for years. We were engaged for more than a year, and now she's acting like this?
" His expression grew even colder. "How am I supposed to marry her if this is how she treats me? "
Griffin coughed awkwardly and shifted back against the couch, clearly sensing Vincent's foul mood.
"She'll come back," he said dismissively, waving a hand as if the matter was insignificant. "Where else is she going to go? She's been with you for so long. She's probably just gotten arrogant."
Vincent remained silent.
He swirled the whiskey in his glass, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid, but the storm brewing on his face showed that Griffin's words had not improved his mood in the slightest.
"I don't think it'll be long before she comes crawling back," Griffin continued confidently, crossing one leg over the other. "She might even ask to get back together. After all, she doesn't really have anyone else."
He scoffed before taking a sip of his drink.
"And what's with those friends of hers—Amara and Jasper?" Griffin added with obvious disdain. "They always look at you like you're some kind of disease. I wouldn't be surprised if they've been filling her head with nonsense all this time."
He lazily swirled the amber liquid in his glass before continuing, "But now that she's completely separated from you, she'll eventually realize your value. Once she understands that you won't keep chasing after her forever, she'll have no choice but to come back on her own."
A smug smile slowly spread across Griffin's face.
"Trust me," he said confidently, leaning forward and patting Vincent's shoulder. "She'll realize soon enough that she can't afford to keep acting like this. Otherwise, who else is going to put up with her?"
Vincent didn't look reassured by Griffin's words.
If anything, his expression only grew darker.
The muscles in his jaw ticked as he stared into the amber liquid swirling inside his glass, his fingers tightening around it until his knuckles turned pale.
After a long, tense moment, he slowly lifted his head and turned toward Nolan.
There was something dangerous in his eyes, something that made Nolan instinctively straighten in his seat.
"Give me your phone," Vincent said abruptly.
Nolan frowned, clearly caught off guard by the sudden request, but he still reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Why?" he asked, holding it loosely in his hand.
"Call Juliet and put it on speaker."
Nolan raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the couch, disbelief written all over his face. "You want me to call her?" he asked incredulously. "Honestly, I don't think she'll pick up. And even if she does, shouldn't it be her calling you first?"
"I don't care," Vincent snapped, all traces of patience finally disappearing. He slammed his glass onto the coffee table with enough force to make the bottles rattle before dragging a frustrated hand through his hair. Rising from the couch, he began pacing restlessly across the room.
"Just call her and ask her what the hell is wrong with her," he growled. "Tell her to come back, or I'll marry someone else.”
Nolan exchanged a helpless glance with Griffin before releasing a resigned sigh. Judging by the murderous look on Vincent's face, he decided it was wiser not to argue. Unlocking his phone, he found Juliet's number and pressed call.
The two men fell silent as the ringing echoed through the room.
The call continued to ring for what felt like an eternity. Nolan glanced down at the time displayed on the screen before lowering the phone slightly and looking over at Vincent.
"It's really late," he said quietly. "It's one in the morning, for God's sake. She's probably asleep by now."
Vincent didn't respond.
He remained sitting on the couch, shoulders stiff and tense, his gaze locked on the phone in Nolan's hand.
One hand remained clenched around his whiskey glass while the other rested on his knee, his fingers tapping impatiently.
His leg bounced restlessly, every inch of him radiating irritation and impatience.
Just as Nolan was about to end the call, the line suddenly connected.
The moment it did, Vincent immediately straightened. His entire body went rigid as he took several quick strides toward Nolan, leaning forward as though afraid he might miss even a single word.
However, the voice that came from the other end wasn't Juliet's.
It was a man's voice.
Deep, rough, and slightly hoarse with sleep.
"Hello?"