Chapter 6
Julian paused, listening to his underboss on the other end of the encrypted line. His angular face remained an unreadable mask of stoic authority.
"Will you bring two men into the dining room immediately?" Julian asked quietly, before sliding the phone back into his suit pocket.
Valentina’s eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated terror. She knew exactly what Marcus did for the Blackthorne family. He was the man who made Julian’s problems disappear into the icy depths of the river.
"No! Julian, please!" Valentina shrieked, kicking off her expensive heels and scrambling backward across the hardwood floor. "You can't do this! I am a Shaw! My father will kill you! He will slaughter your entire syndicate for this!"
The heavy mahogany double doors of the dining room swung open violently. Marcus, a towering man with a heavily scarred face and a dark trench coat, stepped into the room, flanked by two equally intimidating enforcers. They moved with absolute, silent precision, ignoring the lavish surroundings and focusing entirely on their boss.
"Will you escort my former fiancée to the holding cells in the sub-basement?" Julian asked, not taking his eyes off the weeping woman backed against the carved marble fireplace.
The two enforcers reached out, grabbing Valentina by the arms. They hauled her to her feet with effortless strength, the delicate fabric of her sculpted burgundy gown tearing audibly at the seams.
"Get your hands off me!" Valentina thrashed wildly, her diamond earrings swinging like violent pendulums. "I loved you, Julian! You owe me! I saved you from weakness!"
"Will you ensure she is gagged if she continues to scream, Marcus?" Julian inquired, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
Marcus nodded grimly. "Yes, boss. Let's go, princess."
The enforcers dragged Valentina backward toward the doors. Her threats devolved into hysterical, panicked sobs that echoed down the grand hallway until the heavy doors clicked shut behind them, sealing the dining room in a profound, suffocating silence once more.
Julian stood perfectly still for a long moment. The tension slowly bled out of his powerful shoulders. He dropped to one knee on the polished hardwood floor, completely ignoring the crease it put in his expensive trousers, bringing himself down to his son's eye level.
"Are you harmed anywhere, Owen?" Julian asked, his deep voice softening just a fraction, losing the lethal edge it had carried moments before. He gently brushed a stray tear from the boy's pale cheek.
"I'm okay, Dad," Owen whispered, throwing his small arms around Julian’s neck. "I was just so scared she was going to make me eat it."
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"Would I ever let anyone harm a single hair on your head?" Julian asked, burying his face in his son's hair, holding the boy in a fierce, bone-crushing embrace. He closed his eyes, fighting back the wave of agonizing guilt that threatened to drown him. How had he let that monster into his home?
Julian stood up slowly, lifting Owen effortlessly into his arms, holding the boy securely against his chest. He turned his head, his thick, slightly wavy hair catching the light of the crystal chandeliers, and looked across the room to where Lydia was still standing.
