Chapter 6 - Blood in the Water
By week six, the isolation of the estate was wearing thin, and the war in Boston was bleeding through the cracks.
Elena sat in Julian’s study—a massive room lined with leather-bound books and tactical maps. She was massaging a specialized anti-inflammatory compound into Julian’s calves. The muscles, once atrophied, were slowly regaining mass.
Victor stood by the mahogany desk, his face grim. "Mickey Callahan has called for a parlay. He wants a sit-down with you, Julian. Tomorrow night. The old shipyard in East Boston."
Julian stared out the window at the crashing waves. "He wants to see if the rumors are true. He wants to see if I'm bound to the chair."
"It’s a trap," Victor stated flatly. "I can take a strike team. We can end Callahan before you ever have to look at him."
"No," Julian said softly. "Mickey needs to be made an example of. If he dies in the shadows, another rat takes his place. He needs to be broken in the light." Julian looked down at Elena, his eyes burning with a dark, terrifying resolve. "Tomorrow night, I am going to walk into that room."
Elena froze, her hands slipping from his leg. "Julian, no. You can barely take three steps on the bars without collapsing. Your stabilizers aren't ready. If you try to walk without support, you could permanently sever the newly healed pathways."
Julian reached down, gently catching her chin in his rough, calloused hand, forcing her to look at him. "Elena. For eighteen years, I have survived by being a monster in a cage. But now I have things I need to protect." He didn't say an empire. He looked toward the hallway that led to the east wing, where Leo was sleeping.
"I can't let you do this," Elena breathed, terrified of losing the man she realized, with sudden, terrifying clarity, she had fallen in love with.
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Julian’s thumb traced her lower lip. "You didn't let me do anything, Elena. You gave me back my legs. I am going to use them."
He leaned down, and finally, he kissed her. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a brand—possessive, desperate, and fierce, tasting of whiskey and unyielding willpower. Elena closed her eyes, kissing him back, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, terrified of the sunrise.
