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Caleb and Bruce were surprised too.
Since Caleb and Sydney’s marriage had soured, Julian rarely joined the friend group’s outings. Yet he never left the group chat. His appearances at gatherings were infrequent. No one expected him to show up tonight without a word.
Bruce stood and smiled to ease the tension. “Jules, what brings you here tonight?”
“Just passing by.” Julian nodded, straightened up, and stepped into the room.
The guy who had joked earlier followed him, apologizing repeatedly, “Bro, I shouldn’t have said that.
Please don’t hold it against me.”
Among them, only Julian and Caleb held real power. That was especially the case for the intimidating and decisive Julian. He was one of the few in Jouleston who dared cross him.
Julian slouched casually onto the leather sofa, draping an arm over its back. “It was just a joke. Why so
serious?”
“Alright, go back to your game.” Caleb defused the mood, raising his glass toward Julian. “They’re all scared of you, you know that.”
“Really?” Julian leveled his gaze at Caleb, glass paused halfway to his lips.
Caleb poured him another drink. They spoke like old friends or brothers–in–law.
“Have you been in touch with Sydney recently?” Caleb asked.
Julian answered lazily, “You all just said it, right? That she and I have fallen out.”
“We’re just joking,” Caleb replied with a wry smile. “Who doesn’t know you cared about her most?”
He knew better than anyone about Sydney and Julian’s past. After her parents died, Julian, blinded by power and influence, treated her like a treasured little sister.
“So?” Julian’s smirk slipped into his voice. “Worried I might stir trouble if you divorce her for
Penelope?”
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Caleb did not deny it. Instead, he asked with a half–smile, “Would you?”
Late at night, just as Sydney was falling asleep, her phone rang. Many long–time patients still had her
number, and she seldom silenced her phone. She stayed ready for emergencies.
“Syd, could you come pick up Cal?” Bruce’s voice came through, recognizable even in her drowsiness.
She checked the time. It was 2:00 a.m.
She replied groggily, “Bruce, why not just call him a taxi?”
He explained, “It’s hard to get taxis here at Luxon.”
Then he texted her the location.
Sydney groaned, threw on a down coat over her pajamas, grabbed Tiffany’s car keys, and headed out.
Tiffany, a natural night owl, peeked from her room in pajamas. “It’s the middle of the night. Where are you going?”
“Night shift,” Sydney replied.
The extra house and 700,000 dollars didn’t come without strings.
Sydney walked to the entrance and pointed to Tiffany’s car keys. “I’m taking your car.”
“Huh? Oh, okay,” Tiffany said.
‘What night shift?‘ Tiffany was confused, but before she could ask, Sydney had already left. She crawled
back into her room and began digging through files.
The winter night was cold. Inside the car, the heat was cranked to max.
At the club entrance, Bruce had notified reception of her arrival. A waiter led her to a private room.
Despite the late hour, business thrived and the air hung thick with alcohol.
“Ma’am, our room for Mr. Hampton’s group is right this way.”
As the door swung open, Sydney began, “Thank you-” but her voice caught in her throat.
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The room lights shimmered in decadent patterns. Sitting in the corner opposite the ent
sharply defined features were half–shrouded. His dark, indifferent gaze was the only th sweeping slowly in her direction.
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