The air in the living room was still the kind that carried silence like a weight.
Cassian sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, the brown envelope balanced between his fingers like it offended him.
Juliette's steps faltered at the doorway.
She had thought she was prepared for anything his indifference, his coldness, even his anger.
But this quiet… this unreadable calm… it frightened her more than shouting ever could.
Cassian looked up. "You left this behind."
His voice was low, smooth, but it slid under her skin like the soft edge of a blade.
Juliette swallowed. "It's… just from work. Nothing serious."
"Nothing serious?" He leaned back, a humorless smile tugging at his lips. "A formal query letter usually isn't something people call nothing, Juliette."
Her fingers twisted the strap of her purse. "I can handle it."
Cassian's eyes gleamed faintly, the corner of his mouth lifting as if he'd just heard something amusing.
"Handle it," he repeated softly. "You really don't know the kind of life you're in now, do you?"
Her jaw tightened. "I don't want your help at my workplace."
"Oh, it wouldn't take much." He tilted his head, voice calm but laced with quiet arrogance. "One call, and your boss would be apologizing for even daring to question you. That's the power that name gives you."
"Then maybe I don't want it," she said quietly. "I just want my life to stay mine."
For a second, he said nothing. His gaze held hers, sharp and deep then he chuckled under his breath.
"Your life, Juliette, doesn't exist separately anymore. You wear my name. That alone changes everything whether you want it to or not."
Her breath caught, anger and something else mixing in her chest. "You think power fixes everything?"
"No." His voice softened dangerously. "But it protects everything."
She looked away first. The query letter lay between them small, harmless-looking, yet full of everything she was afraid of losing.
Cassian set it down on the table, his gaze never leaving her. "Next time," he said quietly, "don't leave your messes lying around for others to find."
Juliette opened her mouth to respond but the words died on her tongue.
He stood, the faint rustle of his shirt breaking the silence, and walked past her toward the hallway.
But halfway there, his voice came again.
"I used the card."
Of course my know you did
Her chest stilled.
She turned slowly. "How did you?
"I get notifications," he said simply, glancing over his shoulder.
"I wasn't trying to hide it. I just needed to pay some bills
He stopped walking then not turning, not speaking for a heartbeat too long.
Then, quietly: "You don't owe me an explanation for that."
She blinked. "What?"
He turned to face her fully now. "You're a Vale, Juliette. Do you have any idea what that means? You could spend for the entire year and it wouldn't even make a dent." His voice was neither mocking nor kind it was something in between, sharp honesty wrapped in gentleness. "You don't have to live like you're still surviving."
Juliette's throat tightened. "Maybe I still am."
Something flickered in his eyes faint, almost regretful but it was gone before she could read it.
He exhaled softly. "Then learn to survive differently."
And with that, he left.
The echo of his footsteps faded down the corridor, leaving her alone with the letter, the card, and the strange, unfamiliar ache spreading in her chest.
Saturday came with a softer light the kind that filtered through curtains like honey.
Juliette sat at the edge of her bed, brushing her hair slowly, her mind still tangled with that conversation.
He hadn't mentioned it again. No tension, no sarcasm. Just silence.
Sometimes, that was worse.
She needed air a reminder that there was still a version of her that existed before marble floors and quiet glances.
So, when Fola texted "Girls' day out?", she didn't think twice before replying yes.
The café they chose was loud, messy, and full of laughter everything the Vale mansion wasn't.
"Finally!" Zina squealed as soon as Juliette walked in. "Hey beautiful
Juliette laughed, sitting down beside her. "Barely."
"You've been ghosting us," Fola said, raising a brow. "Don't tell me that man of yours has locked you in his glass castle."
Juliette's laugh faltered for a split second just enough for Zina to notice.
"Oh my God," Zina gasped, leaning forward. "He did, didn't he?"
"No," Juliette said quickly, smiling faintly. "He's just… complicated."
"Complicated as in hot, rich, and emotionally unavailable?" Fola teased.
"Something like that," Juliette murmured, stirring her drink.
For the first time in a long while, she felt the weight lift just a little. Their laughter was grounding, their teasing a reminder that not everything in her life had to be fragile.
But as she glanced out the window watching cars blur past, sunlight spilling on glass she couldn't shake one thought.
That no matter how far she tried to drift from that house, from him, from everything that name carried…
it always found her again.
That night, she returned home quietly. The lights were dim, the house calm. Maya was humming softly in the kitchen.
Juliette set her bag down, exhaled, and walked toward her room.
And there, on her nightstand, lay the same black card.
But beside it now was a small folded note.
Her breath stilled as she opened it.
"Next time, don't hesitate."
Her fingers trembled slightly, but she smiled a small, quiet, conflicted smile before switching off the lamp.