No, there has to be a way. I just need this headache to pass, and some sleep, then I can?—
The bedroom door slams open and I yelp, my hand reaching for any kind of weapon and only finding a feather pillow.
Julian stands in the doorway. With a hard expression, he closes the door behind him with a deliberate click, his presence suffocating the room. He stares me down, eyes stormy and unreadable, and something inside me snaps.
I launch at him, my whole body trembling from repressed anger. “You asshole! How dare you!” My fists pound against his chest, each hit punctuated by a frustrated scream. “This is how you treat me?”
He doesn’t flinch. My blows do nothing to him as I slam my hands against pure muscle. He’s as immovable as he is cold.
“You think you can lock me up like this?” I’m shaking so hard it’s difficult to form words. “You’re just… just like every other man in your s-sick family!”
My voice cracks, but I refuse to let up. I aim a fist for his face, desperate to get any reaction, to cause him pain.
That’s when he finally moves.
He catches my wrist mid-swing and pulls me toward the bed with an effortless yank.
I kick and struggle, trying to fight back, trying not to let him drag me anywhere, but he’s too strong. I’m gasping for breath as he spins me around and forces me against one of the wooden posts.
My back hits it hard and I cry out from the sharp pain. “Let go of me!”
But he doesn’t. Instead, I watch him pull zip ties from his pocket and loop them around my wrists. The sharp plastic bites into my skin as he secures me to the post—my arms wrenched behind my back.
Panic crashes over me in waves as I tug against the restraints. They’re so tight, they’re already cutting off circulation to my hands, making them cold.
He steps back, his crisp black suit now wrinkled, and watches while I struggle; blue eyes are fixed on mine, intense andunyielding.
Adrian’s room feels icy. Like it’s closing in around me.
“Let me go!” I try again because there’s nothing else I can do. “Damn it, Julian!”
“You don’t deserve your freedom.” His words are daggers. “Not after lying to me. Not after trying to fuck with me on the day of my brother’s funeral.”
The funeral. He doesn’t mention taking over the family or becoming their leader, only Adrian’s death. His grief bleeds through the cracks in his mask, and something inside me twists painfully.
I stop struggling then and sag against the post, letting the wood dig into my spine. “Please,” I say, softer now but still edged with anger. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not who you think I am.”
He stays silent, but I see it—the hesitation in his eyes, the flicker of doubt—and I grab onto it like a lifeline.
“I wouldnevertry to ruin Adrian’s funeral.” My voice cracks with urgency. “I cared for him too. I want to grieve him as much as you do. I miss him so much, and I just want?—-”
“Shut your mouth!” His roar fills the room, swallowing my words whole.
He presses closer to me, his presence like an electric current making my skin prickle. Leaning in, he speaks low and dangerous, each word dripping with twisted intent. “You’re a fucking liar, one who deserves everything she’s going to get. All the pain. The suffering. When I’m done with you, you’ll wish you were dead.”
The finality of his last word hangs in the air. I don’t want more tears to flow, but I can’t stopthem. “Don’t say that. Please. I still love you. Why won’t you…” My words fade in a sob because I’ve tried to tell him the truth so many times and he just won’t listen.
He grabs my throat suddenly, wrapping his fingers around it tight, and licks tears off my cheek. “I could do so many things to you in this room. Things that might finally make you confess your sins.”
A shiver runs through me. I can’t tell if he’s talking about actual, violent torture, or something more carnal and heated. “What would Adrian think of that? You doing anything to me inhisroom?”
His jaw ticks, but he continues as if I said nothing. “I could keep you tied up for days, just waiting and begging for more.” His breath is hot against my ear, his tone darkening with every word. “I could make you scream so loud the guards outside would wonder if I’m torturing you or fucking you senseless.”
My heart pounds against my ribcage, a wild drumbeat of fear and something else—a forbidden thrill that coils deep in my belly. How could he still have this effect on me, after everything?
Maybe I’m the twisted one for enjoying this.
“You might hate it,” he whispers, eyes blazing with desire and dominance. His hand dips below my dress, lifting the hem and running his finger through my crease.
