Chapter 6 Elio
I WAS IMPRESSED and concerned in equal measure.
Julian had just given us a strategy sophisticated enough to neutralize his father without starting a war. He'd stood in front of four dangerous men and delivered analysis that showed deep understanding of power dynamics, family politics, and strategic manipulation.
The kid was clever enough to outmaneuver his own father. That made him valuable.
It also made him dangerous if he ever decided to turn that cleverness against us.
I should've been more cautious. Should've maintained professional distance and treated Julian like any other potential security threat. I knew better than to trust people. The only people I trusted were Sandro, Matteo, and Luca. Everyone else was suspect until proven otherwise.
Except apparently Julian.
I'd trusted him from almost the beginning. Believed his story. Believed his motivations. Let him into strategy meetings and gave him access to sensitive information.
It was stupid and naive and completely unlike me.
But I couldn't seem to help it.
The next morning I stood outside Julian's door and tried to convince myself this was just another security check. Just another day of monitoring a guest under our protection.
The lie tasted bitter.
I knocked.
"Come in," Julian called.
He was dressed and ready—jeans and a dark blue henley that brought out his eyes. Hair still slightly damp from the shower. He looked young and alert and dangerously attractive.
I forced myself to focus on the purpose of this visit.
"Stefan's expecting you in his office in thirty minutes. He's going to walk you through Inferno's financial systems. Show you how we track revenue, expenses, legitimate versus under-the-table operations." I stayed in the doorway. Maintained distance.
"Okay." Julian grabbed a notebook from the desk. "Are you coming with us?"
"No. I've got other security matters to handle."
"Of course you do." Julian's tone was careful. Neutral. But I heard the subtext underneath.
You're avoiding me.
He wasn't wrong.
I'd been avoiding him since yesterday's meeting. Since he'd looked at me and said you see me with an honesty that had hit harder than it should have.
"Let's go," I said.
We walked through the hallways in silence. I kept several feet of distance between us. Didn't let our shoulders brush. Didn't make eye contact.
Julian noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything.
"This is going to be hard," he said quietly as we approached Stefan's office.
"What is?"
"Working together, if we keep dancing around this thing between us."
I stopped walking. Looked at him directly for the first time this morning.
"We're both adults. We can handle professional boundaries."
"Can we?" Julian's eyes held mine. "Because from where I'm standing, you're not handling them. You're running from them. From me."
"I'm maintaining professional boundaries."
"Those boundaries are arbitrary."
"They're necessary." My voice came out harder than intended. "You're under my protection, Julian. That means maintaining appropriate distance. Not letting personal feelings interfere with security."
"What are you afraid of?" Julian stepped closer. Just one step. But it closed half the distance between us.
"I'm not afraid."
"Yes, you are." Another step. Close enough now that I could smell the soap from his shower. "You're afraid of wanting something you think you shouldn't have. Someone you think you shouldn't want."
"Julian—"
"Am I wrong?"
He wasn't. He was completely, devastatingly right.
I wanted him. Had wanted him since he'd walked into my office soaking wet and desperate, looking at me with dark eyes that saw too much. The want had only grown stronger as I'd gotten to know him. Watched him prove himself clever and brave and far more resilient than anyone had expected.
But wanting him didn't make it right. Didn't make it appropriate. Didn't make it safe.
"Stop," I said.
"What happens if I don't?"
He took one more step. Close enough to touch now. Close enough that I could see the pulse beating in his throat. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
Close enough to destroy every boundary I'd been desperately trying to maintain.
My control snapped.
I closed the distance between us and kissed him.
It was a mistake. I knew it was a mistake even as I did it. But I couldn't stop myself.
Julian responded immediately. Kissed back like he'd been waiting for this. Like he'd been hoping I'd break first.
His hands came up to grip my shirt. Pulled me closer. His mouth opened under mine—eager, enthusiastic, completely without finesse.
And that's when I realized.
This was Julian's first kiss.
Not just his first kiss with me. His first kiss ever.
The realization hit like cold water.
Julian was twenty-one and completely inexperienced. Had never been in a relationship. Had never even kissed someone before this moment.
And I was kissing him in a hallway at Inferno like I had any right to be his first anything.
I pulled away. Put immediate distance between us.
Julian looked dazed. His lips were swollen. His breathing was unsteady. He touched his mouth like he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.
"That was—" he started.
"A mistake." My voice came out rough. "This can't happen."
"Why not?"
"Because you're twenty-one and under my protection and this is completely inappropriate.
Because I'm responsible for your safety and I can't be the person who takes advantage of you.
Because that was your first kiss and you deserve better than having it happen in a hallway with someone fourteen years older than you who should know better. "
Julian's expression shifted. Surprise flickered across his face.
"How did you know that was my first kiss?"
"I could tell. The enthusiasm. The lack of—" I stopped myself. "It doesn't matter. What matters is this can't happen again."
"I don't care."
"You should care. I'm in a position of power over you. You're vulnerable. Inexperienced. This is exactly the kind of situation where someone gets hurt."
"You're not going to hurt me."
"How do you know that?"
"Because you've been protecting me since the moment I walked through those doors.
Because you look at me like I matter. Because you've been trying so hard not to want me that it's been driving you crazy.
" Julian stepped closer again. Not touching but close enough to make his point.
"You're not the kind of person who takes advantage of people, Elio.
You're the kind of person who protects them even when it costs you something. "
"You don't know me well enough to make that assessment."
"I know you better than you think. I've been watching you for two weeks.
Learning how you move. How you think. What makes you careful and what makes you crack.
" His voice softened. "I know you want this.
Want me. And I want you too. That's not taking advantage.
That's just two people who want each other. "
"You're too young to understand the complications—"
"Stop using my age as an excuse. I'm twenty-one, not sixteen. I'm an adult who can make my own choices. And I'm choosing this. Choosing you."
"Julian—"
My phone buzzed. Loud in the heavy silence.
I pulled it out. Text from Sandro: Need you in my office. Five minutes. Urgent.
The interruption was perfectly timed. Or perfectly terrible, depending on perspective.
"I have to go," I said. "Stefan's expecting you. Don't be late."
I turned and walked away before Julian could respond. Before I could do something even more stupid than kissing him in a hallway.
Behind me, I heard Julian call out: "This isn't over, Elio."
He was right. It wasn't.
But it should be.
***
Sandro's "urgent" matter turned out to be relatively minor—security footage from one of our warehouses showing suspicious activity that needed review. We went through the tapes together, identified the issue, made a plan to address it.
The whole thing took two hours.
Two hours where I should've been focused on security threats and operational concerns.
Two hours where all I could think about was Julian's mouth under mine. The way he'd kissed back with such enthusiasm. The realization that I'd been his first.
His family had controlled every aspect of his life, including denying him the normal experiences most people had by twenty-one. Dating. Relationships. Physical intimacy. All of it had been saved for Dante Caruso, the man who'd tried to rape him at sixteen.
And now Julian was here, safe from that future, finally able to make his own choices.
And his choice was me.
The thought made something dark and possessive flare in my chest. Something I had no business feeling. Something dangerous.
"Elio." Sandro's voice cut through my thoughts. "You're distracted. What's going on?"
"Nothing. Just tired."
"You're never tired. And you're definitely not the kind of distracted where you miss obvious security lapses." He paused the footage. Looked at me directly. "This is about Julian."
It wasn't a question.
"No."
"You're a terrible liar when it comes to personal matters." Sandro leaned back in his chair. "What happened?"
I could've denied it. Should've denied it. Instead I heard myself say: "I kissed him."
Sandro was quiet for a long moment.
"I see."
"It was a mistake."
"Was it?"
"Yes. He's too young. Too vulnerable. Under my protection. I had no business touching him."
"But you did anyway."
"Yes."
"And how did he respond?"
I thought about Julian kissing back with such eagerness. About the way he'd gripped my shirt like he was afraid I'd pull away. About him saying I'm choosing you with complete certainty.
"He wants this. Wants me. Says he doesn't care about the age gap or the power dynamics or any of the very good reasons this is a terrible idea."
"And what do you want?"
The honest answer was dangerous. But Sandro deserved honesty. We'd known each other too long for anything else.
"I want him. More than I should. More than is smart or appropriate or safe." I met Sandro's eyes. "But wanting him doesn't make it right. He's inexperienced. That was his first kiss. His first anything. I can't be the person who takes advantage of that."
"Are you taking advantage? Or is he making an informed choice?"
"He's twenty-one. How informed can his choices be?"
"He's old enough to betray his father. Old enough to help us strategize a war.
Old enough to understand exactly what he's walked into and choose to stay anyway.
" Sandro's voice was matter-of-fact. "You're not his father, Elio.
You're not Dante. You're not someone controlling him or forcing him into something he doesn't want.
If he's choosing you, that's his decision to make. "
"What if I hurt him?"
"What if you don't?"
I didn't have an answer for that.
Sandro stood and moved to the window. Looked out at the city.
"I've watched you build walls for years.
Seen you keep everyone at arm's length because you're afraid of losing control.
Afraid of becoming the kind of person your stepfather was.
" He turned back to me. "But Julian's not making you lose control.
He's making you feel things you've been avoiding. There's a difference."
"It's still inappropriate. The power dynamic—"
"Can be managed. Matteo managed it with Stefan. You helped him figure out how." Sandro's expression softened slightly. "I'm not saying rush into this. I'm saying don't run from it just because it scares you. Julian deserves better than that. And so do you."
I left Sandro's office with more questions than answers.
***
That night I didn't go to Julian's room.
I should have. It was part of our routine. Part of making sure he was settling in, eating properly, adjusting to life at Inferno.
But I couldn't face him. Not yet. Not when I could still feel his mouth on mine. Not when I was still fighting the urge to go back and finish what we'd started.
Instead I sat in my office and watched the monitors.
Julian was in his room. Sitting on the bed. Reading one of the thrillers from the bookshelf.
But he wasn't focused on it. Every few minutes he'd look up at the door. Like he was waiting for me to show up.
When I didn't, his shoulders sagged slightly. Disappointment visible even through the grainy security footage.
I watched him set aside the book. Watched him get ready for bed. Watched him lie down and stare at the ceiling instead of sleeping.
He was thinking about the kiss. About what I'd said. About why I'd run.
I should feel good about maintaining boundaries. About doing the right thing. About protecting someone vulnerable from getting hurt.
Instead I felt like a coward.
Julian had been brave enough to admit what he wanted. Brave enough to choose me despite all the reasons it was complicated.
And I'd kissed him then run away like the contact had burned me.
You're afraid of wanting something you think you shouldn't have.
He'd been right. I was afraid.
Afraid of losing control. Afraid of hurting him. Afraid of wanting someone I couldn't have without compromising every rule I'd built my life around.
Afraid of admitting that Julian Bianchi had gotten under my skin in ways no one had in years.
On the monitor, Julian finally closed his eyes. But I could tell he wasn't sleeping. Just lying there in the dark. Alone.
I'd put that loneliness there. By kissing him then walking away. By making him think I didn't want him when the truth was I wanted him too much.
My phone buzzed. Text from an unknown number.
I opened it warily. Then realized it was Julian, using the secure phone I'd given him.
I meant what I said. This isn't over. I'm not giving up on you just because you're scared. Sleep well, Elio.
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I looked back at the monitors. Julian had rolled over. Curled up on his side facing away from the camera.
I should delete the message. Should maintain distance. Should stick to my resolution that this couldn't happen.
Instead I saved it.
And sat there watching Julian sleep while I tortured myself with the memory of his first kiss and the knowledge that he wanted more.
That I wanted more.
That I was absolutely, completely, irreversibly fucked.
Because Julian Bianchi wasn't giving up.
And I was running out of reasons to keep running.