Page 57 of King of Violence

“But—”

My fingers pause. “Be good,” I say in a warning tone. “You’re mine, remember? So do as I say.”

He nods and licks his hand before going back to touching himself.

I push three fingers into him as a reward.

Felix is breathing heavily, his hole tightening around my fingers greedily. “Ah!”

His seed spills out over his stomach and chest. I snatch his hand, now sticky with his cum, and make him grab my cock. “Coat me.”

He follows my instructions perfectly, gathering his seed from his stomach and lathering it onto me. Once he’s done, I force his knees up again. He’s already spreading his cheeks and panting in anticipation. I slam into him with ease. I throw his legs over myshoulders and pound against him so hard the bed rocks against the wall.

“Fuck, you listen so well, baby.” His cum makes me move in and out of him with ease. My own pleasure builds up within me.

“Jules! God, yes.” Felix writhes underneath me.

“You’re mine.Mine. I’m never letting you go.” Before I know it I’ve pulled out of him, my release coating his chest.

“Fuck!” Blood rushes to my head as Felix continues to milk me of my pleasure. His hand is smooth and gentle against my shaft.

I collapse next to him on the bed, stars flashing in my vision.

Felix hums happily next to me as we gradually sync up our breaths.

I wonder if I should tell him I love him...

But the decision still looms over me like an executioner’s axe: Felix or the family. I know what I want.

But I’m afraid of what I might lose.

And I’m even more afraid of what I might become if I choose wrong.

FELIX

The world comes crashing down so fast I don’t have time to brace for impact. One moment, Julian and I are tangled together in the safe house, our bodies and hearts knotted in the fragile peace we’ve carved out of the chaos. The next, the door bursts open, and it all shatters.

Hands grab me and pull me from the bed, and I don’t even have time to react before they’re dragging me across the room. I hear Julian shout my name, but it’s swallowed by the cold hands that seize his arms and pull him away from me. He fights back, but it’s useless. The men who grab us aren’t just lackeys—they’re professional, efficient, and ruthless.

We’re shoved into the back of a black van, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in my skull. My chest tightens, panic surging, but I try to keep it under control. Julian’s eyes are dark with rage and fear, but he doesn’t say anything. I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head, but the silence between us feels louder than anything. Julian’s foot presses against mine, the only comforting gesture he can muster, but it’s not enough.

The ride is long and brutal, the hum of the engine matching the thudding of my heart. I don’t know where we’re going. Thewindows are blacked out. But Julian seems to know who these men are. Recognition and worry crease his face, making me realize this is probably his family we’re dealing with. The weight of the situation closes around me like a vice. There’s no turning back now. We’re caught in a world that’s very far from mine, and I’ve never been more afraid for either of us.

When the van stops, the doors open and we’re shoved toward the massive gates of what I assume is the Greco estate. The grandeur of it all hits me—the towering columns, the lights illuminating the manicured grounds. It’s not just a mansion, it’s a fortress—a place where decisions are made, loyalty is tested, and betrayal is punished.

We’re led inside like prisoners, our hands bound, the guards keeping us in line with threats more than physical force. My throat is dry and my heart is pounding, but I try not to show it. I try not to let them see how scared I am. I don’t want to know what’s going to happen to us next.

Julian is silent beside me, and I can tell by the way his jaw clenches that he’s not just angry. He’s terrified.

The moment we enter the grand hall, I see him—Elijah.

He looks different than he did at Julian’s party all those weeks ago. He isn’t polished anymore—he’s bruised and battered, like a warning. His face is swollen and his eyes are dark with pain, but there’s something else there too—a kind of resignation. He looks like someone who’s been broken and beaten into submission.

He looks like Julian’s future.

Julian freezes the moment he sees his brother, his eyes widening. I see a flicker of emotion—real emotion—in him. It’s fear, raw and brutal. And then it morphs into something darker…guilt.

Julian’s eyes harden and he puts on his mask—the golden boy act, the one he’s perfected over the years to hide the fact thatbeneath that polished exterior, he’s just as broken as the rest of us.

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