Page 58 of King of Violence

Elijah’s voice cuts through the thick air, calm but cold. “You know what you have to do, Julian.”

I look at Julian then, my heart hammering in my chest. I can see the conflict in his eyes.

He turns to me, his face hardening until his expression is unreadable. The air between us shifts, the weight of the moment crushing me. He opens his mouth, and I can feel the words before they leave his lips.

“Felix,” he says, his voice colder than I’ve ever heard it. “This isn’t going to work. We can’t keep doing this.”

I freeze as ice spreads through my chest. His words don’t make sense. Theycan’tmake sense. But the way he’s looking at me, the way he’s stepping away from me—it’s all wrong. His gaze flickers toward his father, toward Elijah, and then back to me, but it doesn’t hold the softness it used to. It’s hard. Detached.

“Julian, they’re making you say this,” I whisper. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to believe what he’s saying. “I’m not an idiot.”

“No, I guess you’re not, Felix.” Julian smirks. I haven’t seen that expression since the last time he tried to lie to me about his bruises. “So that means you’re smart enough to understand that you don’t belong in this world. You don’t belong with me.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. They sting so much they burn. But it’s the way he says them, the cold finality in his tone, that sends a tremor through me. He doesn’t want me. Not like I want him. Not like I’ve hoped he might want me. But last night his words were so sweet and genuine, like if anyone tried to take me away he’d burn the world down just to find me.

You’re mine. Mine. I’m never letting you go.

“You were just an infatuation. A quick fuck,” Julian continues, his voice smooth and calculated, like it doesn’t even hurt him to say it.

And I guess it doesn’t.

“I like boys like you. The ones who try to fix me. To save me. It’s pitiful and sweet.” He pulls away from the guards and adjusts his clothes, then leans into my ear and says, “But it’s just the tactic I use to get my dick wet.”

Each word cuts deeper than the last, and I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I want to scream at him, to demand he take it back, to tell him he’s wrong. But I can’t.

I stand there, rooted to the spot, unable to speak, unable to move. This is the Julian I’ve always feared—the one who will cut ties with me in a heartbeat, who will let me go without a second thought to protect his family and save his own skin.

Elijah steps forward then, his bruised body a reminder of the cost of loyalty, of what it takes to survive in this world. “Just let him go, Julian,” he says, his voice low and almost pitying. “There’s no need to be cruel.”

Julian’s gaze flickers between me and his brother as his father stands just behind them, watching him like a hawk. The pressure is unbearable, and in the end, I see the decision in his eyes. He’s already made it.

“It’s funny, Felix,” Julian says, his voice now steady and distant, like he’s turned off any trace of emotion, “that you ever thought I’d choose you over my family.”

The finality of it hits me. Cold seeps into my bones as Julian steps back to put distance between us. And as he does, I feel the walls I’ve built around myself begin to crumble. This is it. He’s gone. He’s choosing them over me.

I want to say something, to beg him to come back, but the words won’t come. The man I thought I knew is gone, replaced by someone I barely recognize.

And as the distance between us grows, the silence settles like a tomb between us. It’s done.

The ride back to my apartment is silent. The men who dragged me from the safe house and brought me to the Greco estate don’t say a word as we drive through the dark streets. I barely register the city lights blurring past the window. My mind is too heavy, too consumed by Julian’s words. His betrayal still echoes in my chest, and every minute that ticks by feels like an hour.

When the car finally stops in front of my apartment, the men give me a cold, unbothered look, as though they don’t even care. They just want to drop me off and be done with me. I don’t have the energy left to fight it.

I stumble out of the car, feeling like the ground beneath me is unstable, like everything around me is slipping out of focus. I stand there momentarily, staring at the door to my building. It feels distant, as if I don’t even belong here anymore. My apartment—my safe haven—is nothing but a reminder of the life I used to have before Julian…before the Grecos.

I turn and head inside, trying to push away the heaviness in my chest. I need to rest. But as soon as I step into the dimly lit hallway, I hear it—the faintest rustle, a sound that sends a chill through me. And then, before I can react, a figure steps out from behind the corner.

A rough hand clamps over my mouth and I’m shoved backward, my back colliding with the wall. I try to fight back, but another set of hands grabs me and I’m dragged through the hallway, my legs stumbling beneath me.

I struggle, my pulse racing. “Let me go!” I shout, my voice muffled by the hand pressed to my face. But no one answers. The grip on me tightens, and I feel the sharp pressure of a gun against my side.

They drag me down the stairs, my body jerking with resistance, but it’s no use. I can barely get my bearings before I’m shoved into the back of another car, the door slamming shut behind me.

The car starts moving and I feel the familiar, terrifying sensation of being taken to an unknown destination. All I know is that we’re headed somewhere I definitely don’t want to go. My mind races—who the hell are these people? A rival gang? The Grecos have their own way of making threats, but this…this is different.

The car moves through the city, weaving between streets, and I try to keep track of the turns. But it’s hopeless. I don’t know where I am anymore. I’m trapped.

Finally, the car slows, and when it stops, I’m pulled from the vehicle and shoved into a dim, sterile room. There’s no warmth, no softness—just cold concrete and harsh fluorescent lights. And there, standing in front of me, is a man who looks vaguely familiar, almost like something out of a dream. His expression is unreadable, but I can see the malice in his eyes.

---