Chapter 8

The officer listened to me for a long time.

Finally, he went out and called Julian.

It was a full two hours before Julian leisurely arrived.

He brought with him a strong scent of perfume.

There was a small red mark on his shirt collar, whether lipstick or something else, I couldn't tell.

I quickly glanced and then awkwardly looked away.

I clenched my hands and managed to speak, “What I did was wrong. I apologize.”

Julian sat across from me, his gaze falling on my wrist.

There was a bracelet there, covering a scar.

That scar was from when I was severely depressed, left during a moment of disorientation.

I subconsciously lowered my hand, then said anxiously,

“Just let me go home. Whatever you want, just name it.”

Julian looked at me indifferently. “Go home where?”

I didn't quite understand what he meant, but I still explained,

“My dad and I are living in a rented apartment right now.

“He’s alone at home, and his health hasn't been good these past few years.”

Julian’s voice was mocking. “So, you and Liam haven’t even bought a wedding home yet?”

I remained silent.

Julian’s gaze fixated on me.

“Chloe, if you like staying here, then keep talking nonsense.”

It wasn't that I hadn't thought about explaining everything to him.

But when I considered that he was about to get married, with a fiancée,

what was the point of bringing up those old things again?

Still, I was tired. I didn't want to repeat the same lies to him either.

After a long silence, Julian finally stood up and spoke again.

“Come on. My stomach isn’t feeling well. Cook me a meal, and we’ll call it even.”

I couldn’t refuse and immediately stood up to follow him.

Julian explained to the police that it was a misunderstanding and said he wouldn’t press charges, then took me away.

My phone was with the police, and Julian ended up with it.

He still hadn’t given it back to me by the time we reached his place.

I figured he didn’t know the password anyway and couldn’t see anything, so I just let him keep it.

Julian sat on the living room sofa, casually tossing my phone onto the coffee table.

He leaned back on the sofa like a king, ordering me,

“Go make dinner.”