Page 67 of Goldflame

Is this real? Or am I still dreaming?

I’m too desperate to care.

We reach the kitchen and it feels like a sanctuary—a neutral ground where memories still exist untainted by everything that’s happened. Julian flicks on a small light above the island, bathing the space in a soft glow.

“Sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the barstools.

I ease myself onto the cold metal, wincing as my burns protest. The moment feels surreal—like I’ve slipped into an alternate universe where Julian isn’t my captor and I’m not his prisoner.

He opens the cabinet and pulls out two glasses. “Whiskey?” he asks, already reaching for the bottle.

“Sure.”

As he pours, I’m catapulted back in time to nights when we were teenagers, sneaking Lucian’s expensive liquor while the adults were away. We’d sit just like this, passing a bottle back and forth, making ridiculous plans for the future.

“When I turn eighteen, I’m getting out,” fourteen year old Julian had said, not yet realizing how impossible that would be. “I’ll take you with me.”

“Where would we go?” I’d asked, giggling.

He shrugged, taking another swig from the bottle. “Anywhere. Everywhere. We could just drive until we found somewhere that feels like home.”

God, we were so fucking naive.

Julian slides a glass toward me, pulling me back to the present—to the man he’s become rather than the boy he was. “Here.”

I take a long sip. The alcohol warms my stomach, loosening the knot of tension that’s lived there for weeks. “What changed?” The question has been pressing against my tongue since I woke with him holding me. “Why do you believe me?”

Julian stares into his glass. In the dim light, his profile looks like something carved from stone—hard edges and sharp angles. But there’s a vulnerability too, a crack in the marble.

“After you killed Carter last week, something in me snapped. I was pissed but I also realized you deserved more of a chance. I started investigating. Not just accepting things at face value, like Adrian would have done.”

The mention of Adrian’s name sends a pang through my chest. “And?”

“Funny enough, I found evidence to suggest Carter killed Martinelli.” He sets his glass down carefully, not yet drinking. “I looked into him. I questioned his wife. But the important thing was, my mother was there.”

My stomach turns. “And… what happened?”

He sighs like he’s been holding in air for months. “I don’t want to get into it, but she was… vicious. In ways I’d never seen. It made me start to question things. If she could do that, what else was she capable of?”

He moves around the kitchen island to be closer to me. He wraps his fingers around mine as I hold the whiskey glass. “I’m sorry, Aurelia. I know in my gut now that you were telling the truth. She’s… cruel. And Adrian was always father’s favorite. Mom hated Lucian, so it makes sense why she grew hatred for Adrian, too. It was so subtle I didn’t pay attention, but I see it clearly now. When I search my memories, I see it.”

“I’ve been trying to warn you…”

He flinches. “I know. I should have listened. I just... couldn’t believe she would...”

“Kill her own son?” I finish for him.

His face crumples with grief so raw it steals my breath. “Yeah.”

We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of truth settling over us. Everything we thought we knew has been burned away, leaving only this—two broken people trying to salvage something from the ruins.

“Thank you for finally believing me,” I say. Tears slip out as a weight lifts. Finally.Finallyhe believes me.

Please let this be real.

He lifts my glass to my lips, making me finish my drink as he smiles at me. Then he shoves my empty glass aside.

“I miss who we were,” Julian confesses, his foreheadpressing against mine. “Before all of this. Before Adrian, before I became… a monster.”

---