Chapter 648 Samuel: Regret Comes Only After Loss 1
While Samuel and Zenobia spent their wedding night at each other's throats, Julian and Taylor were wrapped in quiet, unspoken warmth. With Luna asleep between them, they drove back to the villa.
Night had settled in when the car rolled to a stop.
The porch lights blazed against the falling snow, each flake fine as dust in the glow. Julian stepped out first, half his face caught in the bright light, his features sharpened and striking.
He walked to the rear door and opened it, leaning down to look inside. Luna was curled against Taylor's shoulder, fast asleep. The car was warm, and her cheeks were flushed with heat.
"Still asleep?" Julian asked, though his eyes stayed on Taylor.
Taylor gave a soft hum in reply.
Julian reached in and lifted Luna effortlessly. She stirred, blinking groggily, but the moment she caught the familiar scent of him, she relaxed and nestled back into his shoulder.
Taylor followed quickly, draping a wool blanket over the little girl. Luna murmured in her sleep, "Aunt Taylor."
Taylor's chest tightened with warmth.
She brushed a hand over Luna's hair, patting her gently to keep her asleep. Julian's gaze lingered, steady and intent. "She's very fond of you."
Taylor's fingers traced lightly over Luna's cheek before she whispered, "Let's get inside before she catches a chill."
Julian held her eyes for a moment longer.
Snow fell soundlessly.
He led the way up the steps, his tall frame cutting a clean line against the night. Taylor followed with Luna's things in her arms. The light from the porch stretched their shadows across the steps.
A maid opened the door with a smile. "We heard Ms. Montague was coming. The kitchen made chicken soup—it's perfect for a night like this."
Taylor glanced at Julian. "You arranged that?"
Julian's smile was warm. "It's dropping below freezing tonight. You're always cold. A little hot soup will help."
Taylor wasn't a fan of chicken soup. She thought about refusing, but Julian gave her a look—calm, yet carrying an unspoken weight—before carrying Luna upstairs.
It was enough to make her pick up the bowl. The maid, quick to read the room, added with a grin, "If you don't drink it, Ms. Montague, Mr. Learmond might be upset."
Taylor sighed and took the soup with her to the second floor.
The hallway glowed under the soft orange light of the chandelier, casting a warm sheen over the walls. She stopped at a door in the southeast corner and pushed it open.
Luna's bedroom was next to the master suite, with a connecting door between them. On nights when she woke, Luna would wander through with her pillow and curl up in Julian's arms. She had never needed a nanny to stay with her.
The room was dark, lit only by moonlight spilling through gauzy white curtains. The pale silver glow fell across the round princess bed in soft, delicate patterns.
Julian was sitting on the edge of the bed, helping Luna out of her coat. She was in her pajamas now, smelling faintly of soap, warm and small under the covers.
When Taylor stepped inside, Julian looked up at her, his voice low so as not to wake the child. "Did you drink the soup?"
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