Chapter 45 #2
I nodded before taking a deep breath and reaching into my pocket. Then I moved closer to my mother, holding out Calista’s old phone. “I want to show you something,” I said. “When I found out Cal had a boyfriend, I looked through her photos, and I found these.”
I opened up the ‘Roman Holiday’ album and handed the phone to her.
“It’s Calista with Roman,” I explained. “They went on a weekend trip to Bar Harbor together.”
Mom slowly scrolled through the pictures, expression morphing from tenderness to grief and back again. “Cal looks so happy here,” she said, voice thick with emotion.
“She was really happy with him,” I said softly. “She just didn’t tell us about him because it was a pretty new relationship, and she didn’t want to get ahead of herself.”
“Ah. I see.” She dabbed at her cheek again, blinking back more tears. “I suppose we can find some comfort in the knowledge that she was happy before she died, can’t we?”
“Definitely,” I said. “That’s a really nice way of looking at it.”
Julian finally stepped back into the room. “Roman will meet us at the cemetery at ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” he said, gaze flicking between me and my mother. “Is that okay?”
Mom smiled faintly. “Yes. I can’t wait to meet him,” she said. She looked at me, then back at Julian again. “I just realized… I forgot all about the food. Are you two hungry?”
“I ate a little on the plane, but I could still eat something else,” I said.
Julian nodded. “Me too.”
“Okay.” Mom rose to her feet, smothering a yawn. “I’ll start reheating it now.”
“It’s all right. We can do it,” Julian said, lifting a palm. I nodded in agreement.
“Are you sure?” Mom smothered another yawn, and then she shook her head. “Sorry, I’m suddenly so tired, even though it’s still so early. I’ve had quite a long day.”
“It’s fine, Mom. You should go to bed,” I said, leaning forward to give her a hug. “I promise we won’t set fire to the kitchen.”
After she headed upstairs, Julian turned to me. “She's great,” he said quietly. “I can see where you get it from.”
“Get what?”
“That light.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “She loves you so much. It's obvious.”
“Yeah,” I said softly, guilt churning in my stomach again. “She does.”
Julian frowned, obviously picking up on my sudden unease. “What's wrong?”
I glanced toward the stairs, making sure my mother was definitely out of earshot. "I hate lying to her,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “About where I've really been. What's really happening. Everything.”
Julian's expression grew serious, and he took my hands in his. “I know it’s hard. But—”
“But this is what my life will be like from now on,” I finished for him. “Keeping secrets. Not just from her, but from everyone outside the Club.” I looked down at our joined hands. “I know that already, but like you said… it’s hard.”
“It gets easier,” Julian said. “You learn what you can share and what you can't. You find ways to be honest about your feelings even when you can't be honest about the facts.”
“And if I slip up? If I accidentally reveal something I shouldn't?”
“You won’t. That’s what the training is for. Learning how to stop that from happening.”
I gave him a nervous half-smile. “If I actually pass the training, that is.”
“You will.”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “The second trial is in four weeks, and… honestly, I’m worried.”
Julian's expression softened. “Tell me what you're worried about specifically. I can help.”
I took a breath. “Well, there’s supposed to be a big formal event to celebrate New Year’s Eve at the estate.
A party in the main ballroom, filled with politicians, diplomats, CEOs, and all these other important high-society people.
There'll be 'plants' there too, posing as regular guests but actually reporting back to the Council.
Some will pretend to be journalists trying to get us to slip up and reveal something we shouldn't.”
“Right,” Julian said, nodding. “That's standard.”
‘We have to go without our partners, and we have to prove we can navigate that world without causing problems,” I continued.
“We choose our own gown, shoes, accessories from our closets.
If we choose something wrong, we fail. Same with hair and makeup.
We have access to stylists if we want them, but we can't ask for their advice. We have to tell them exactly what we want, and it has to fit a black-tie event.”
“You've been learning all of this in training,” Julian said.
“I know, but it's one thing to learn it in a classroom and another to actually do it under pressure,” I said.
“And then at the actual event, we have to talk with all these people and prove we belong there.
We can't say the wrong thing to the wrong person.
Like accidentally offending a foreign diplomat or revealing something to one of the plants.
And we can't get too drunk, or use the wrong fork, or do anything else embarrassing. "
I ran a hand through my hair anxiously and went on.
“You’d think it would be easy enough, because it’s not like we’re drugged with truth serum and forced to reveal our secrets like we were in the first trial,” I said.
“But I keep worrying I’ll do everything wrong.
Like pick the wrong outfit. Or maybe I’ll say something wrong, because I have a habit of blurting stuff out when I’m anxious.
It’s all so nerve-wracking. And it doesn’t help that the instructors keep telling us it’s the trial where most failed Selection girls slip up. ”
“That doesn’t mean you’ll fail,” Julian said, squeezing my hand.
“I know. But please… tell me. How many girls fail that trial each year? Is it a lot?”
“It really depends on the girls and their partners,” he said, lifting one shoulder in a slight shrug. “I remember in my first year with the Club, I heard that every single Selection girl passed the second trial. But then in my second year, four failed.”
My eyes widened. “Four? That’s one fifth of the cohort!”
“Wait. Let me finish,” he said. “Those girls all had one thing in common. A shitty partner who didn’t help them prepare properly.”
I blinked. “You can help me prepare for the trial?”
“Of course. In the real world, husbands and wives help each other and make decisions together, don’t they?
” he said, brows rising. “And I know this particular world, because I grew up in it. So I can help you practice. I can even help you decide what to wear that night if you’re struggling with it.
” He hesitated, eyes flickering with certainty.
“But… I’m willing to bet I won’t even need to offer you advice in the end. ”
My brows furrowed. “Why not?”
“Because I believe in you. And I know you’re smart as hell.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You’ll definitely pass the trial.”
I swallowed hard, stomach suddenly churning. “Julian… what if I don’t?”
“You will.”
“Please. Just humor me,” I said. “What happens if I don’t pass? It means I get removed from the training, right?”
“Yes.”
“And then you’re not allowed to marry me. So… would you have to marry someone else then?” I asked, tilting my head. “Someone your family picks? Or someone the Club picks?”
Julian shook his head. “A Club member's relationship is always his choice. So I can marry whoever the hell I want. And that's you, Violet, whether you fail the training or not.”
“But I thought failed Selection girls aren’t allowed to marry Club members.”
“Technically, they aren’t. But if that happened, I’d no longer be a Club member.”
“Are you saying you’d quit the Club for me?” I asked, pulse suddenly racing.
“In a heartbeat.”
“But you’d lose everything,” I said, eyes widening. “All those connections and resources and protection. Your family's legacy, your position, everything you've worked for. Just… gone.”
He shrugged. “I’d find a way to figure stuff out,” he said, squeezing my hands again. “We’d do it together.”
I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. “You'd really give up everything for me? Your entire life?”
“Violet.” He moved closer, his hands coming up to frame my face. “You’re my life now. Everything else is meaningless without you.” His eyes were intense, burning with an emotion that made my breath catch. “So yes,” he finished firmly. “I would give it all up in a heartbeat.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. “Julian...”
“I mean it, Violet. Every word.” He leaned his forehead against mine. “You're not going to fail the trial. But even if you did, even if everything fell apart, I'd still choose you. Every single time.”
The certainty in his voice, the absolute conviction… it broke something open inside me. All the fear and doubt I'd been carrying seemed to dissolve, replaced by something warm and solid.
“I think… I love you,” I whispered.
Julian went very still. Then his eyes widened slightly, and a smile spread across his face. Not his usual controlled smile, but something genuine and unguarded.
“Say that again,” he said, his voice coming out husky.
“I love you,” I repeated. “I know that sounds totally crazy, because just a few days ago I wanted to—”
He cut me off with a kiss, deep and passionate, his hands tangling in my hair. When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
“I love you too, Violet,” he said against my lips. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
“Good,” I whispered. “Because you terrify me too. In the best way.”
He chuckled and pulled me close. We stood there like that in my mother's living room for the next several minutes, wrapped in each other's arms, and for the first time since this whole crazy journey began, I felt like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.
Whatever came next—the second Selection trial, the rest of the training, navigating life in the Club's world—we'd face it together. And somehow, that made even the impossible seem manageable.