Page 50 of King of Violence

“I sent you something,” I say. “Check your email. It’s encrypted—layers of it. Nobody’s getting through without the codes, and you’ll have those soon. But it’s all there, Felix. Everything. Every file, every note. Your research is safe.”

The silence stretches, and I imagine him standing there, phone pressed to his ear, his sharp mind already piecing together what I’ve done.

“How?” he asks finally, his voice careful and controlled. “How did you get it?”

“I can’t explain right now,” I say, my free hand dragging through my hair. “Just trust me. Even if something happens to the originals, you’ll have them.”

“Julian…” His voice softens, almost breaking. “Why are you doing this? You didn’t have to?—”

“Yes, I did,” I cut him off, my voice rougher than I intended. “Because I owe you that much.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says, a note of anger creeping in. “I didn’t ask you to do this.”

“I know,” I say, quieter now. “But I couldn’t just stand by, Felix. Not after everything.”

There’s another pause, heavy with unspoken words. I can hear his breath on the other end of the line, steady but too loud in the quiet.

“Do they know?” he asks finally, his voice tight.

“No,” I say. “Not yet.”

“And if they find out?”

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Then I’m screwed.”

“That’s not funny, Julian.” His voice sharpens, and I can picture the way his brows furrow when he’s upset. “What happens to you if they figure this out?”

“That’s not your concern,” I say, the words slipping out automatically.

“The hell it’s not,” he snaps, and the heat in his voice catches me off guard. “You think I can just sit here while you—while they?—”

“Stop,” I cut in, tension rising in my chest. “You don’t understand, Felix. This isn’t something you can fix. It’s not something you can fight.”

“And you think that means I shouldn’t care?” he fires back. “That I should just sit here and hope you come out of this alive?”

“You shouldn’t have to care,” I say, my voice dropping. “That’s why I’m doing this. To make sure you’re not dragged any deeper into this mess.”

There’s a long silence on the other end, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s hung up.

“You know what I hate most about this?” he says finally, his voice quieter now, almost defeated.

“What?”

“That I can’t walk away,” he admits. “Even when I know I should. Even when I know how dangerous this is…for both of us.”

His words hit harder than I expected, and for a moment, I can’t find the air to respond.

“I hate it too,” I say, the confession slipping out before I can stop it.

The silence between us shifts, the tension twisting into something more fragile.

“Julian,” he says, his voice softer now. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

“Yes, I do,” I say, my throat tight. “You don’t know what they’re capable of, Felix. You don’t want to know.”

“And you think I don’t worry about you every second?” he demands, his voice breaking just enough to crack the wall I’ve built around myself.

“I don’t deserve that,” I whisper.

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