Chapter 7 Julian
I LAY IN bed replaying the kiss.
Not just replaying it. Reliving it. Over and over like my brain was stuck on a loop it couldn't break.
The moment Elio's control had snapped. The way he'd closed the distance between us like he couldn't help himself. The feel of his mouth on mine—demanding, intense, nothing like I'd imagined a first kiss would be but somehow exactly right.
His hands gripping my shirt. Pulling me closer. The heat of his body. The taste of coffee and mint.
The way he'd kissed me like he was starving and I was salvation.
Then the way he'd pulled away like I'd burned him.
I should probably feel used. Confused. Angry that he'd kissed me then immediately called it a mistake.
Instead I felt alive.
Like something inside me had woken up that had been sleeping my whole life. Like every nerve ending was suddenly aware of sensation in ways I'd never experienced. Like I'd been living in black and white and suddenly the world was in color.
I wanted more.
Wanted to feel his hands on me again. Wanted to learn what it felt like to be touched by someone I wanted. Wanted to explore this thing between us that Elio kept calling inappropriate but felt more right than anything in my entire life.
I rolled over and stared at the ceiling.
The clock said 2 AM. Elio hadn't come by tonight. Hadn't brought dinner. Hadn't done any of the things that had become our routine over the past two weeks.
He was avoiding me.
I understood why. Didn't agree with his reasons, but I understood them.
Elio Marino was a man who'd built his entire life on control. On discipline. On maintaining perfect order in a chaotic world. Kissing me had been a crack in that control. A moment where want had overpowered discipline.
And now he was terrified of what might happen if it cracked again.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
Failed completely.
***
Day one of the silent treatment, meals were delivered by kitchen staff.
A young guy I'd seen around brought breakfast. Said Elio had sent him. Wouldn't meet my eyes when I asked where Elio was.
Lunch came the same way. Dinner too.
I waited all evening. Watched the door. Expected Elio to show up eventually because that's what he did. That was our routine.
He never came.
I checked my phone. No messages. No explanations.
Just silence.
Day two, I got a text message at 8 AM.
Elio: Schedule change. Stefan will pick you up at 9 for work. Security briefings will be sent via email going forward. Let me know if you need anything.
Professional. Distant. Like the kiss had never happened.
I stared at the message for a long time. Considered responding with something confrontational. Something that would force him to acknowledge what had happened between us.
Instead I just texted back: Okay.
Stefan picked me up at nine. Took me to his office where we spent the day going through Inferno's financial systems. Revenue streams. Expense tracking. The careful accounting that separated legitimate business from under-the-table operations.
It should've been interesting. I had the background for this. The education. The internship experience that made sense of the complicated money laundering schemes Stefan explained.
But I was distracted. Kept checking my phone. Kept hoping Elio would text something beyond schedule changes and security updates.
He didn't.
"You okay?" Stefan asked around noon.
"Fine."
"You don't look fine. You look like someone who's thinking about something else entirely while I'm explaining shell company structures."
I set down my pen. "Sorry. I'm listening."
"No, you're not. Which is unusual because you're normally sharp about this stuff." Stefan leaned back in his chair. "Want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Does it involve Elio?"
I looked up. Stefan's expression was knowing. Sympathetic.
"How did you—"
"Because I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching.
And I've seen the way you look at him when you think he's not paying attention.
" Stefan smiled slightly. "And because Elio's been avoiding the security office for two days, which never happens.
Something changed. I'm guessing something happened between you. "
I was quiet for a moment. Then: "He kissed me. Then immediately called it a mistake and has been avoiding me ever since."
"Ah." Stefan nodded like this made perfect sense. "He's scared."
"Of what?"
"Of wanting something he thinks he shouldn't have. Of losing control. Of hurting you." Stefan's voice was gentle. "These men—Elio, Matteo, Sandro, Luca—they've all built their lives on control and keeping people at arm's length. When someone gets past those defenses, it terrifies them."
"So what do I do?"
"Don't give up. Elio's pushing you away because he's afraid, not because he doesn't want you. The fact that he kissed you means his control's already cracking. He just needs time to accept that it's okay to want something for himself instead of just maintaining order."
"What if he never accepts it?"
"Then you'll know you tried. But I don't think that'll happen." Stefan pulled up another spreadsheet.
"How long did it take for Matteo?"
"Not as long as you'd think. When these men finally break, they break hard." Stefan's smile widened. "Just be patient. And maybe stake out his office. Make him face you instead of hiding behind text messages."
It was good advice.
***
Day three, I'd had enough.
I waited until mid-afternoon. Confirmed Elio was alone in his security office.
Then I walked in without knocking.
Elio looked up from his computer. Surprise flickered across his face before control slammed back into place.
"Julian. You should've scheduled—"
"We need to talk."
"I'm busy—"
"Make time." I closed the door behind me. Didn't lock it but made my position clear. I wasn't leaving until we addressed this.
Elio stood. Moved around his desk like putting furniture between us would help. "If this is about security protocols—"
"It's not. It's about the kiss. About why you've been avoiding me for three days."
"There's nothing to discuss. It was a mistake."
"It didn't feel like a mistake."
"Feelings are irrelevant." His voice was cold. Professional. The tone he probably used on actual security threats. "What matters is maintaining appropriate boundaries. Which I failed to do. It won't happen again."
I stepped closer. Closed half the distance between us.
"Are you attracted to me?"
"That's not appropriate to discuss."
"I'll take that as a yes."
"Julian—"
"Because I'm attracted to you. Have been since you first brought me food at 2 AM and sat there watching me eat like you couldn't figure out if I was a threat or something that needed protecting.
" I took another step. "So if we're both attracted to each other, why are we pretending nothing happened? "
"Because you're twenty-one and under my protection and what happened was completely inappropriate."
"You already said that. I'm asking if you're attracted to me. If you want this. If what you felt when you kissed me was real or if I imagined it."
Elio looked at me for a long moment. His jaw was tight. His hands were clenched at his sides. Every line of his body screamed tension barely contained.
"What I want doesn't matter. What's right matters."
"And what if what's right is letting people make their own choices?"
"You don't know what you want."
"I know I want you."
"You're too young to know that."
The words hit like a slap. Not because they hurt. Because they were the same words I'd heard my entire life from people trying to control me.
I felt anger flare hot in my chest.
"Everyone's always told me that." My voice came out harder than I'd intended.
Sharper. "My father told me I was too young to understand why the arranged marriage was necessary.
Dante told me I was too naive to know what I really wanted.
My family told me I was too sheltered to make my own decisions about my life. "
I moved closer. Close enough to see Elio's pupils dilate. Close enough to watch his breathing speed up despite his controlled expression.
"You're doing the same thing. Telling me I don't know my own mind. That I'm too inexperienced to understand what I want. That you know better than I do what's good for me."
"Julian—"
"I spent twenty-one years being told I was too young, too naive, too fragile to make choices for myself. I'm done accepting that. I know what I want. I want you. And the fact that you're fourteen years older or that I'm under your protection or that this is complicated doesn't change that."
Elio's expression softened slightly. Just a fraction. But I saw it.
"I'm trying to protect you."
"From what?"
"From me. From making choices you'll regret when you're older and realize how inappropriate this is. From being hurt by someone who should know better."
"The only thing I'll regret is not taking the chance."
We stood there in heavy silence. Close enough to touch but not touching. The space between us felt charged. Electric. Like the air before a storm.
I could see Elio fighting it. See the war happening behind his eyes between what he wanted and what he thought was right.
His hands clenched tighter. His jaw tensed. His eyes tracked my face like he was memorizing details.
"You should go," he said finally. His voice was rough. Strained. "Before I do something we'll both regret."
"What if I don't want to go?"
"Julian." My name came out almost pained. "I'm trying very hard to do the right thing here. Don't make this harder than it already is."
"Why should I make it easy? You kissed me, Elio. You wanted me enough to break your own rules. Now you're acting like it never happened because you're scared of what it means."
"I'm not scared—"
"Yes, you are." I stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"You're terrified. Because wanting me means losing control.
Means feeling something you can't manage with discipline and order.
Means being vulnerable with someone who sees through all your carefully constructed walls. "
Elio's breath caught. Almost imperceptible. But I noticed.
I noticed everything about him.
"You see too much," he said quietly.
"So do you. That's why this scares you so much. Because you look at me and see someone who understands. Someone who's fought their way out of cages just like you did. Someone who knows what it's like to be controlled and punished and told they're wrong for defending themselves."
I reached up. Slowly. Giving him time to pull away.
My hand came to rest against his chest. Over his heart. I could feel it racing under my palm despite his controlled exterior.
"I see you, Elio. The real you. Not just the security expert or the disciplined strategist or the man who keeps everyone at arm's length. I see the person underneath. The one who's lonely. The one who wants connection but is afraid to reach for it."
His hand came up. Covered mine where it rested against his chest. But he didn't push me away.
"You're going to destroy me," he said. His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Or maybe I'm going to save you."
We stood frozen like that. His hand over mine. My palm feeling his heartbeat. The space between us charged with everything we weren't saying.
Then Elio's phone rang.
Loud. Jarring. Breaking the moment like glass shattering.
He pulled away. Stepped back. Put distance between us before answering.
"Marino." Pause. "Yes. I'll be there in five minutes."
He hung up. Looked at me. His expression was carefully neutral again but I could see the cracks. The control wasn't as perfect as he wanted it to be.
"I have to go. Sandro needs me."
"This conversation isn't over."
"Julian—"
"I'm not giving up on you. On this. I don't care how long it takes or how hard you push me away. I see you, Elio. And I'm not running."
He looked at me for a long moment. Something shifted in his expression. Softened. Cracked.
"I know," he said quietly. "That's what terrifies me."
He left.
I stood alone in his office and tried to calm my racing heart.
My hand still tingled where he'd covered it with his own. Where I'd felt his heartbeat racing despite his controlled exterior.
He wanted me. He'd admitted it. Not with words, maybe, but with action. With the way his breath had caught when I'd touched him. With the way he'd looked at me like I was something precious and dangerous in equal measure.
He was scared. Terrified of losing control. Terrified of wanting something he thought he shouldn't have.
But he wanted me anyway.
And I wasn't giving up.
Stefan had been right. When these men finally broke, they broke hard.
I just had to be patient enough to be there when it happened.
***
That night, Elio didn't come to my room.
But at midnight, my phone buzzed.
You're right. I am terrified. But not for the reasons you think.
I stared at the message. Typed and deleted three responses before settling on:
Then tell me the real reasons.
The response took five minutes. Like he was wrestling with whether to answer honestly.
Because you deserve better than someone who's broken. Someone who doesn't know how to be close to people without controlling them. Someone whose first instinct is always to push away instead of hold on. You deserve someone who can give you normal. I don't know how to be that.
My chest tightened.
I don't want normal. I want you. Broken parts and all. And maybe neither of us knows how to do this. But we could figure it out together.
Another long pause.
Get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be complicated. Your father's people have been asking questions. We need to talk strategy.
He was deflecting. Changing the subject. Running again.
But he'd answered honestly first. Had admitted his real fears. Had shown me the vulnerability underneath the control.
That was progress.
Okay. But Elio? This conversation isn't over either.
I know. Sleep well, Julian.
I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling.
My father's people were asking questions. That meant complications. Danger. Exactly the kind of external threat that would give Elio more reasons to maintain distance.
But it also meant I was about to prove my value. My usefulness. My place here at Inferno.
And maybe, if I was lucky, I could prove to Elio that I was strong enough to handle whatever came. That I wasn't fragile or naive or someone who needed protecting from his own choices.
That I was exactly what I'd told him: dangerous.
I fell asleep with my phone in my hand and Elio's words in my head.
You're going to destroy me.
Maybe.
Or maybe we'd destroy each other and build something better from the ruins.
Either way, I was all in.