Page 52 of King of Violence

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he steps back. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, his hands clenched at his sides. He looks at me with something like regret in his eyes, but it’s too late for that now.

He looks down at the floor, as though ashamed. “Don’t make it worse, Julian.”

I don’t say anything. I can barely breathe, let alone form coherent words. My body aches, but it’s the guilt that weighs most heavily on me.

I push myself up from the floor, my legs shaky. The blood is rushing in my ears, but I can still hear Elijah’s voice behind me, soft and distant.

“I’ll take care of things,” he says, his voice low, as though he’s trying to convince himself as much as me. “But this...this can’t happen again.”

I don’t answer him. I can’t. My pride is too bruised. My body too broken.

I walk out of the study, leaving behind the suffocating weight of the punishment, but I can’t shake the feeling that, no matter how much I’ve lost, the worst is yet to come.

FELIX

Istare at the email on my laptop, the encrypted files Julian said he sent me. My fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating before I open them. He didn’t have to do this. Hell, I never expected him to.

The thought of him sneaking around and stealing from his own family makes my stomach twist into a knot. It’s reckless, dangerous, and...completely Julian. I should be furious—this only drags him deeper into the shadows I swore I didn’t want to get tangled in. But the truth?

I’m not furious.

I’m terrified.

I lean back in my chair and scrub a hand down my face. Julian doesn’t realize the risk he’s taken. Or maybe he does, and that scares me even more. He’s not the kind of guy who plays it safe. He dives headfirst into things, consequences be damned, and now he’s done it for me.

The memory of his voice from last night lingers in my head—quiet and rough-edged, like he was trying to keep the weight of the world from slipping through the cracks.

I couldn’t just stand by, Felix. Not after everything.

That sentence plays on a loop in my mind, clawing at the walls I’ve tried so hard to keep up.

I close my eyes, trying to push the feelings down. It doesn’t work. All I can think about is him: the way his voice softened when he said my name, the way he always seems to be right on the edge of breaking but never does. He’s impossible, infuriating, and completely intoxicating.

But what does this mean?

He’s crossed a line with his family, risked everything he’s built to give me something I thought was gone forever. I should be grateful—hell, Iamgrateful—but it’s tangled up with guilt. He shouldn’t have had to do this.

My father’s voice creeps into my head, unbidden and unwelcome.You can’t trust anyone who lives in that world, Felix. Not with your life.

I open my eyes and stare at the files again. The truth is, I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust Julian. That scares me more than anything.

With a deep breath, I click the button to decrypt the files. As the data loads, I make a silent promise to myself: I’ll find a way to use this research to finish what I started. But more than that, I’ll find a way to protect Julian. Because whether I like it or not, I’m in this now. And so is he.

???

Julian hasa new habit of staying over, slipping into my apartment under the cover of darkness like he’s avoiding being seen, even though it’s just the two of us. (I’ve told Ben to start staying over at his girlfriend’s place more often.) Most nights, I wake up to find him sprawled out on my couch or pressedagainst my side in bed, his arm slung across my waist like he’s anchoring himself to something real.

The nights he can’t stay are harder. I don’t tell him that, of course. I just nod when he says he has “things to handle,” and pretend it doesn’t bother me when he pulls on his jacket and heads for the door.

But Julian has a way of never really leaving.

The first time I noticed the man standing in the shadows outside my building, I thought it was a coincidence—some guy waiting for his ride or finishing a smoke. But then I saw him again. And again. Different men, but always the same look: sharp eyes, stiff posture, and the faint bulge of a gun under their jackets.

The next time I saw Julian, I confronted him about it, trying to keep my voice steady. “Are you having me watched?”

He didn’t even flinch; he just gave me one of those maddeningly calm looks, the kind that make me want to shake him. “I can’t always be here,” he said simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “But I need to know you’re safe.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him I didn’t need his protection, but the words caught in my throat. The truth was, knowing someone was out there, keeping watch, eased some of the constant tension in my chest.

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