Page 23 of King of Violence

I glare at him, heat rushing to my face. “That doesn’t mean?—”

“I know,” he interrupts, his voice softer now. “I know it doesn’t mean anything. I just...I’m sorry. My brother got into myhead, and I...” He stops himself and shakes his head. “No, that doesn’t matter. I just wanted to apologize for being such a dick.”

His sincerity catches me off guard. I expected deflection, maybe even another smug comment, but this? This feels real.

“Why do you care so much?” I ask, crossing my arms.

Julian leans back, his eyes drifting to the skyline. “Because I like you.”

The words hang between us, simple but heavy.

“You don’t even know me,” I say, my voice quieter now.

“That’s fair,” he admits. “But I want to.”

The vulnerability in his tone disarms me. This isn’t the cocky quarterback who can charm his way out of anything. This is someone...honest.

“Why?” I ask, genuinely curious. “You could have anyone. Why me?”

Julian chuckles, a low, self-deprecating sound. “Because you’re the only person who doesn’t buy my bullshit.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just look at him, searching for any hint of deceit. But all I see is a guy trying to tell me something he doesn’t quite know how to say. I should leave, cut this off before it becomes more complicated than it already is. But instead, I sit down, my resolve softening despite myself.

We talk for hours—about everything and nothing. He tells me about the pressure of living up to his family’s expectations and the suffocating weight of being the “golden boy.” He doesn’t mention the mafia outright, but his words are laced with enough hints to make me wonder.

And somehow, I find myself sharing pieces of my own life—how my mom worked two jobs to keep the lights on when I was a kid, how I can’t afford to screw up when so much depends on me. I mention my father’s death, but not exactly what happened to him. I can’t find the will to say it. I can’t talk about it out loud and make it all come back again.

“It’s exhausting, isn’t it?” Julian says quietly.

“What is?”

“Carrying it all.”

I nod, surprised by how much he seems to understand.

As the night deepens, the space between us shrinks. I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, we’re standing closer, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the cool night air.

“Felix,” he says, his voice low and rough.

I look down at him, and before I can overthink it, his lips are on mine.

The kiss is so slow and deliberate that it feels like the world has stopped spinning. My hands grip the railing behind me as if letting go would send me spiraling. His hand caresses my jaw, and for some reason, my hand goes up to meet his. Julian’s tongue slips into my mouth, causing me to pull him closer to me by the belt loop of his jeans.

A surprised sound hums from his throat, like he wasn’t expecting me to reciprocate. But I can’t help it. For some reason, he undoes me. My resolve is in shambles. My brain only responds to his voice, his touch, his heat.

But then reality crashes back in. I release him and gently pull away. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are soft and wanting. My cock twitches at the sight. I want to bend him over the railing and?—

“What’s the matter?” Julian’s hands skim down my arms, scattering goosebumps across my skin.

“I—” God, I need him to stop touching me. I’m getting closer to him to find out his secrets. That’s all this is. “I need to think about this.”

He nods, his fingers grazing mine before falling away. “Take all the time you need.”

I don’t trust myself to say anything else. Without another word, I turn and walk away, leaving him standing there under the glow of the city lights.

JULIAN

The weeks crawl by, but I’ve never felt so alive.

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