Page 266 of The Rules
Katherine
The door closes behind her with a soft click.
Julian is already there—in the hallway, framed by the golden spill of evening light, sliding his arms into a black coat like he’s stepping off a stage. His movements are unhurried, rehearsed. Effortless in that way only he can manage—danger dressed in elegance.
Katherine freezes.
It’s not fear. Not even surprise. It’s the way time seems to slow around him. The way the air rearranges itself to accommodate his presence.
He glances over his shoulder, like he already knew she was there. Like he’s been waiting. One hand smooths down the front of his coat, the other slides a leather glove into place.
Every gesture deliberate. Polished. Dangerous.
Their eyes meet.
And just like that, she forgets how to breathe.
There’s no smirk. Not yet. Just silence stretching between them, tight as wire, sharp at the edges. His eyes are steady—cool, unreadable—but not cruel. Not this time.
Then he steps forward. Not far. Just enough to enter her space. To make her feel it.
The scent of him hits first—dark amber, black pepper, and the faint bite of leather. Sophisticated. Commanding. It settles around her like heat, all sharp edges and slow-burning tension. Her skin prickles, hyper-aware, every nerve tuned to his proximity.
“Katherine,” he says. Not mocking. Not playful. Just… soft.
Her name, wrapped in velvet.
He leans in, and his voice brushes the shell of her ear.
“Be careful with him, sweetheart.”
A pause.
“You’re his whole world now.”
It lands like a blade slid between her ribs—quiet, clean, irrevocable. Her pulse skips, her breath catches.
And then—
He leans back just slightly. Smiles. That glint of mischief back in place.
“Try not to break him.”
Julian doesn’t linger.
He straightens, adjusts the collar of his coat, and winks—over her shoulder, toward Ben.
Then he’s gone.
The door whispers shut behind him.
And Katherine stands there, frozen in the echo of his voice.
She doesn’t turn.
Not yet.
Because the words are still sinking.
