You Had Me, You Lost Me, You'll Never Find Me novel Chapter 40

On the drive back, Sylvia leaned heavily against the passenger seat, staring blankly out the window. An unshakeable exhaustion had settled into her bones.

Julian turned on a soft, acoustic playlist to ease the tension.

"Tired?"

Sylvia snapped out of her daze and shook her head apologetically. "I'm alright. Thank you again for earlier."

Julian casually adjusted his glasses. "For what? Didn't I already collect my reward?"

Sylvia froze, instantly realizing he was referring to her calling him 'sweetheart'. Her cheeks flared hot. Clearly, Julian wasn't nearly as strictly professional as he appeared to be.

"That didn't count. Let me buy you dinner."

Julian glanced at her, carrying the relaxed, easygoing grace of an older man.

"Alright. I'm actually quite hungry."

He drove them to a secluded, private restaurant. The soft, melancholy notes of a cello floated through the dining room. It was an intimate space with only about a dozen tables, most of which were occupied for the dinner rush.

They sat at a table by the window and ordered two classic dishes.

As Sylvia picked up her silverware, her delicate, luminous wrist caught the light. Tied around it was a plain red string, entirely devoid of any charms or beads.

Julian noticed it and asked casually, "Is it a lucky charm?"

Sylvia followed his gaze to the empty red string on her wrist. She had braided it herself. Ashton had one too—she had read somewhere that red strings symbolized two souls bound together forever, so she had painstakingly braided a matching pair.

But Ashton had never worn his.

He kept a heavy, black luxury watch strapped to his wrist every single day, only taking it off when he showered.

"No," she replied softly.

She didn't elaborate, and Julian didn't press the issue, seemingly unbothered.

After dinner, they took a walk through the restaurant's private gardens, which had been elegantly designed to mirror an ancient estate. The cobblestone path was lined with vibrant, blooming crabapple trees, the petals brilliant and striking in the evening light.

As they casually traded stories, Sylvia found herself slowly relaxing.

Suddenly, amidst the falling petals, Julian stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "Ms. Harlow, would you let me take care of you?"

He was standing incredibly close, and Sylvia could smell the faint, crisp scent of juniper on his clothes.

He radiated a quiet, dignified grace—the absolute polar opposite of Ashton.

When she was a teenager, Sylvia had dreamed of falling in love with a perfect gentleman exactly like him. But life had a twisted sense of humor, and she had ultimately fallen for a dangerous, volatile man like Ashton instead.

—

Sylvia's first encounter with Ashton had been anything but romantic.

In a chaotic, neon-lit nightclub, she had been shoved like a terrified deer straight into his arms.

Ashton had narrowed his eyes dangerously, ruthlessly gripping her chin. "Who let her in here?" His voice was razor-sharp, laced with absolute fury.

The entire room had instantly frozen in terror.

It had been the summer of her freshman year. Sylvia had been juggling acting competitions with multiple side jobs just to scrape together her tuition and living expenses for the next semester.

Her mother, Valerie Logan, hadn't sent her money in ages, and even when she did, it was only a few measly dollars.