14. Felix
FELIX
I stare at the email on my laptop, the encrypted files Julian said he sent me. My fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating before I open them. He didn’t have to do this. Hell, I never expected him to.
The thought of him sneaking around and stealing from his own family makes my stomach twist into a knot. It’s reckless, dangerous, and...completely Julian. I should be furious—this only drags him deeper into the shadows I swore I didn’t want to get tangled in. But the truth?
I’m not furious.
I’m terrified.
I lean back in my chair and scrub a hand down my face. Julian doesn’t realize the risk he’s taken. Or maybe he does, and that scares me even more. He’s not the kind of guy who plays it safe. He dives headfirst into things, consequences be damned, and now he’s done it for me.
The memory of his voice from last night lingers in my head—quiet and rough-edged, like he was trying to keep the weight of the world from slipping through the cracks.
I couldn’t just stand by, Felix. Not after everything.
That sentence plays on a loop in my mind, clawing at the walls I’ve tried so hard to keep up.
I close my eyes, trying to push the feelings down. It doesn’t work. All I can think about is him: the way his voice softened when he said my name, the way he always seems to be right on the edge of breaking but never does. He’s impossible, infuriating, and completely intoxicating.
But what does this mean?
He’s crossed a line with his family, risked everything he’s built to give me something I thought was gone forever. I should be grateful—hell, I am grateful—but it’s tangled up with guilt. He shouldn’t have had to do this.
My father’s voice creeps into my head, unbidden and unwelcome. You can’t trust anyone who lives in that world, Felix. Not with your life.
I open my eyes and stare at the files again. The truth is, I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust Julian. That scares me more than anything.
With a deep breath, I click the button to decrypt the files. As the data loads, I make a silent promise to myself: I’ll find a way to use this research to finish what I started. But more than that, I’ll find a way to protect Julian. Because whether I like it or not, I’m in this now. And so is he.
???
Julian has a new habit of staying over, slipping into my apartment under the cover of darkness like he’s avoiding being seen, even though it’s just the two of us. (I’ve told Ben to start staying over at his girlfriend’s place more often.) Most nights, I wake up to find him sprawled out on my couch or pressed against my side in bed, his arm slung across my waist like he’s anchoring himself to something real.
The nights he can’t stay are harder. I don’t tell him that, of course. I just nod when he says he has “things to handle,” and pretend it doesn’t bother me when he pulls on his jacket and heads for the door.
But Julian has a way of never really leaving.
The first time I noticed the man standing in the shadows outside my building, I thought it was a coincidence—some guy waiting for his ride or finishing a smoke. But then I saw him again. And again. Different men, but always the same look: sharp eyes, stiff posture, and the faint bulge of a gun under their jackets.
The next time I saw Julian, I confronted him about it, trying to keep my voice steady. “Are you having me watched?”
He didn’t even flinch; he just gave me one of those maddeningly calm looks, the kind that make me want to shake him. “I can’t always be here,” he said simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “But I need to know you’re safe.”
I wanted to argue, to tell him I didn’t need his protection, but the words caught in my throat. The truth was, knowing someone was out there, keeping watch, eased some of the constant tension in my chest.
“You don’t have to worry about them,” he added. “They’re professionals. They won’t get in your way unless there’s trouble.”
And that was that.
Now, on the nights I’m alone, I find myself glancing out the window, catching the faint glint of a watch face or the red ember of a cigarette. It’s a strange kind of comfort, knowing someone is there, that Julian made sure of it.
When he’s here, though, it’s different. My apartment feels smaller, warmer, like it’s filled with more than just books and research. He brings a kind of chaos into my orderly life, leaving his jacket draped over a chair and his boots kicked off haphazardly near the door.
I’ve tried to convince myself it doesn’t mean anything, that he’s just doing what he always does—taking control and protecting what he thinks belongs to him. But deep down, I know better.
Julian doesn’t stay just to watch over me. He stays because, somehow, I’ve become his anchor, too.
I don’t comment on the cuts or bruises anymore. I used to ask, but Julian always gave me that hard, unreadable look, and I learned quickly that some things aren’t meant for discussion. He’d say it was nothing, brush me off with a smile or a nonchalant shrug, and I’d let it go.
Instead, I just do my best to take care of him. I’ve learned how to clean a wound, how to wrap bandages without making him uncomfortable, how to patch him up without asking too many questions. The cuts aren’t something he’ll talk about, and the bruises don’t need to be acknowledged. But I can tell when he’s in pain when the exhaustion and the weight of everything he carries begin to show.
So I press a cool cloth to his forehead or bring him water when he needs it, silently tending to him. It’s the only way I can make up for the fact that I’m not part of his world, not entirely. But maybe—just maybe—he doesn’t need me to be. He just needs me to be here.
???
It’s later than usual when I finally leave the library, my bag heavy with textbooks and research. The campus is quiet, and the distant hum of late-night traffic is the only sound as I make my way to the parking lot. Julian got me a “rental” because he doesn’t want me riding the bus late at night. But I’m pretty sure he just bought the car. I raised hell about it, but Julian wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I’m planning to call Julian when I get in the car, just to hear his voice. I haven’t seen him all day, and even though it’s becoming routine, the ache of missing him doesn’t get easier.
The lot is almost empty, except for a few scattered cars under the dim lights. I’m not paying much attention, too focused on the weight of the day—until I hear the footsteps behind me.
At first, I think it’s just someone else leaving late, but the pace quickens, too quick, too deliberate. My heart rate spikes and I spin around just in time to see the figures closing in, their shadows looming large in the soft glow of the lights.
I freeze, recognition crashing into me.
These men—they’re not just random strangers.
“Hey,” one of them calls, his voice low and dangerous. “We need to talk.”
I swallow hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. I don’t know if it’s fear or the realization of what they’re here for, but my body tenses. I take a half-step back, but there’s nowhere to go. They surround me immediately, caging me in.
“You Greco’s little pet?” another one sneers, stepping closer, his face twisted in a sick smile. “Or are you some cheap whore?”
I try to stand tall, hoping they won’t see the fear creeping up my spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, my voice shaking. “I’m just a student. I have nothing to do with him.”
The man in front of me laughs, the sound low and mocking. “You think you’re fooling anyone? People like you don’t get to come in and out of this world without consequences.”
Before I can react, one of the men shoves me hard against a parked car, the cold metal pressing into my back. I grunt in pain, my head spinning and the world tilting as they close in.
“Tell us where that Greco brat’s safe house is, or we’ll gut you.” A knife slides across my abdomen.
I try to push them off, but I’m outnumbered. My limbs are heavy, my throat tight. Fear claws at my chest, and for a moment, I wonder if this is it. Is this how it ends?
Then a roar echoes across the lot, deep and commanding. “Get the hell away from him!”
I don’t need to look up to know it’s Julian. My heart pounds even harder, but relief crashes over me in waves. The men hesitate as Julian’s footsteps thunder closer, his voice cold and lethal.
“Do you have any idea who the hell you’re messing with?” he growls. “You don’t get to touch him.”
His gun presses into the knife guy’s forehead. The other two pull guns on him, but Julian just smiles.
“You think you can kill me? Go ahead. Daddy will come beating down your door.” Julian digs the weapon into the man’s skin, forcing him to his knees. Julian clicks his tongue. “You can’t kill a king without starting a fucking war.”
He cocks the gun.
“Come on,” one of the guys says as he backs away from me.
They retreat, leaving me panting and leaning heavily against the car, my legs shaky under me.
I hear Julian approaching. His presence is overwhelming, like a storm about to break. He’s panting, too, his breaths coming in sharp bursts.
“You okay?” he asks, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s holding himself back from something darker.
I don’t answer right away. My chest tightens, and it’s not just the fear of the encounter—it’s the weight of everything I’ve gotten myself involved in, the danger that’s now a constant presence in my life.
The drive to Julian’s apartment feels like a blur. My head is spinning from the encounter in the parking lot and my heart is still racing from the fear and adrenaline. But as Julian’s car pulls into the parking garage and we walk toward his building, a strange sense of calm settles over me. It’s not that the danger has passed—far from it—but when I’m with him, it feels like everything is a little bit more bearable.
Julian doesn’t say much as we walk through the building and up to his apartment, though his hand occasionally brushes mine as he leads the way. There’s a kind of quiet urgency in the air between us, the weight of the night’s events still hanging in the balance. Neither of us speaks until we’re inside, and as the door closes behind us, Julian turns to face me, his eyes dark with emotion.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He pulls me to him. “I never wanted this to happen.”
I can’t hold back the way my chest tightens. He’s always been so controlled, so confident in every move he makes, but right now I can see the guilt he’s been carrying for so long. I know he’s been trying to protect me, but the truth is, I’ve never felt more scared than I do right now—scared for him, for us, for everything we’re tangled in.
“I’m not the one you need to protect,” I murmur into his neck. “I’m not the one in danger. You are.”
Julian’s fingers thread into my hair. His touch is tender, almost cautious. There’s something so fragile in how he looks at me, like he’s afraid I’ll shatter if he gets too close, but I need him near me more than anything.
“I don’t know what to do, Felix,” he admits, his voice low. “I don’t know how to keep you safe when everything’s falling apart around me.”
“I don’t need saving,” I reply softly, my heart pounding. “I just need you.”
The words hang in the air between us, heavy and charged with something deeper than I can put into words. The tension that’s been building ever since we met crackles around us now, raw and unspoken.
Without another word, Julian pulls me into him, his lips capturing mine with a tenderness that’s almost too much to bear. It’s like he’s trying to tell me everything he’s too afraid to say out loud with this kiss—how he feels, how much he cares.
My hands find their way to his chest, the heat of his body seeping through the fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, the world outside disappears. There’s only the feeling of him, the softness of his lips against mine and the unspoken promise that whatever happens, we’ll face it together.
We pull away just enough to breathe, our foreheads resting against each other. I can feel the warmth of his skin and the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Julian whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want you to get hurt, but I’m too selfish to let you go.”
I smile softly as I trace the line of his jaw with my fingers. “You don’t have to let me go. I’m not going anywhere.”
For a moment, we stand there in silence, the weight of everything that’s happened hanging in the air. But in this quiet moment we’ve created between us, I finally feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.
Julian kisses me again, this time with more urgency and need, and I let myself get lost in it because here, in his arms, I’m not afraid. Here, with him, I feel safe.