Chapter 25
Julian
Quinn glanced at me from the driver’s seat, one hand draped over the wheel. “You sure you don’t want me to handle it?”
His voice was mild, almost bored, but the offer underneath was not.
Everyone thought Quinn was just a friend—the man who showed up at my birthdays and blended into the background like expensive wallpaper.
But Quinn was an ex-SEAL, a bodyguard my mother had hired the day I graduated high school.
A contingency plan. Nobody knew the things he’d done for me. That was the point.
“This sounds beneath you, Julian. Let me take care of it.”
“If I wanted him hospitalized,” I said, flexing my hand against my thigh, “you’d be the first person I called.”
Quinn smirked. “Then what do you want?”
I looked through the windshield at the Ashworth estate—a mausoleum of mediocrity. “To look him in the eye,” I said softly, “and make sure he understands the new rules of the world he’s about to live in.”
I got out, the cold morning air biting through my coat. I walked past Elara’s custom black wagon, parked carelessly on the crescent drive. Something dark and possessive curdled in my chest. He let his mistress use her car. Her space. Her things.
Noted.
I rang the bell. The maid answered, then scurried off to find Alastair. Moments later, footsteps approached—fast, sloppy, entitled. Alastair appeared in the doorway, face unshaven, clutching a baby monitor. He froze when he saw me.
“What t—are you doi—”
The first punch cut him off. Clean. My knuckles connected with his jaw with a satisfying crack. He hit the marble floor hard, the baby monitor crashing beside him.
“You—you can’t—!” he slurred, scrambling back.
I moved before he could find his feet. I hauled him up by his collar and slammed him against the wall so hard the framed portrait of his grandfather rattled.
“I can. I will. What are you going to do? Call the police?” I knew he wouldn’t. That’s not how this world works when the person hitting you has more zeros in their bank account.
Thud.
My fist buried itself in his gut, just below the sternum. It wasn’t about damage; it was about air. I watched him fold, a sick, wheezing gasp escaping him as his lungs seized.
“Shhh, don’t talk. Just listen,” I hissed, my face inches from his.
“That first punch? That’s for trying to embarrass her in public.
I don’t like that. And she didn’t have to fuck me for anything.
I’ve been inside her for three years because she wanted me there.
Because you left her alone on your wedding night. ”
His eyes bulged at the confession.
“She tastes and sounds delicious, by the way,” I continued, shaking him.
“I signed that contract because she asked me to. She could have asked for your company itself, and I’d have ruined your family to give it to her.
You’ll never possess her, Alastair. You don’t know whether to love her or hate her for being beyond your reach. ”
I saw the truth in his eyes—the weakness, the envy.
Crack.
The third punch was a backhanded arc across his cheekbone. This one was for me. For every time I’d had to watch him stand in her space.
“You will stop harassing Elara,” I commanded, my voice dropping to that terrifying register. “Don’t call her names. Don’t call her at all. She stayed here because she has a heart; you exploited it because you have a hole where yours should be. She doesn’t owe you anything else.”
I straightened his collar. “Pull yourself together. You’re a father now. Learn to be a man, because you won't have her to hide behind for much longer.”
I stepped back and headed toward the door. Halfway across the foyer, I paused. “Alistair?”
A wet, choked sound came from him.
“The next time you raise your hand at her, or let someone touch what’s hers,” I said without looking back, “I won’t touch you. I will erase you from the map. You understand?”
He didn't speak. He just stared from the floor, finally realizing he’d lived in a world without consequences... until now.
I walked out, closing the door softly. Quinn was leaning against the car. I reached into my coat and pulled out a small keyring—Elara’s spare fob. She said the car wasn’t important, but she had bought it. It was hers. I wasn't letting them take anything else.
I tossed the keys to Quinn. “Take her car. Get it detailed. The works.”
Quinn caught them with a grin. I slid into the driver’s side of the SUV, my pulse already steady. I smiled. Today was going to be a good day.