Page 172 of The Rules
Ben watched Julian’s grin falter.
Not much. Just enough.
Something shifted behind his brother’s eyes—the glint of mockery dimming, cooling into something harder.
Julian’s voice dropped, lower and more dangerous—velvety on the surface, but threaded with malice. There was weight in every syllable, not loud, but unmistakably laced with threat.
"But here’s the thing about good stories— they don’t always burn out. Sometimes they implode. Spectacularly."
The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was full. Thick. Like smoke that hadn’t cleared yet. It lingered, coiling through the air between them.
"And not everyone makes it out in one piece."
Ben’s spine locked. A slow, involuntary tension threaded through his body like wire pulled too tight. This wasn’t Julian’s usual provocation. There was weight to it now. Cold. Certain. Like he knewexactlyhow this would end.
And for a flicker of a second, Ben saw it—if this thing with Katherine cracked in the wrong direction, the whole case could collapse. All of it. And then what the fuck were they doing playing chicken with Crawford?
Julian leaned back. No smirk. No show. Just his eyes, flicking between them. Watching. Calculating.
“So maybe... just maybe... you two should stop playing with matches before something catches fire.”
The silence that followed didn’t fall. Itsettled—thick as smoke, heavy as ash.
Even the sounds outside the glass—cars, voices, life—faded beneath it.
Ben didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Julian stood. Rolled his shoulders like he was shaking off dust. When the smirk returned, it felt artificial—painted on over the bones of something darker.
“But hey—what do I know?” he said, voice light again, like he hadn’t just gutted the room and left the organs neatly arranged.
He headed for the door. Tossed the last line over his shoulder with careless ease.
“Maybe you’re the exception. Maybe it ends in a happy ending.”
He let the words settle, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Or maybe not. But hey—decide for yourselves.”
Ben exhaled. A sharp, tight release of breath that barely moved his chest. His shoulders stayed high, muscles still coiled like he hadn't quite escaped the moment.
Across from him, Katherine didn’t move.
But her posture had shifted—just slightly. Shoulders tighter. Chin a fraction lower. Like she was holding herself still to keep something from shaking loose.
Whatever Julian had said?
It hadn’t just landed.
It had unsettled her.
Still there.
Still crawling under her skin.
The door clicked shut behind Julian.
Silence stretched.
