Chapter 9 Julian #2
Sandro nodded. "Then it's nobody's business but yours and Elio's.
But Julian? If that changes—if he does anything you're uncomfortable with, anything that feels wrong—you tell me.
Or Matteo. Or Stefan. Someone. Don't suffer in silence because you think you have to protect him or protect your position here. "
"I will. But I won't need to. Elio would never—" I stopped. Considered my words. "He's a good man, Sandro. Better than he thinks he is. He sees me as someone capable and dangerous and worth choosing. That's not manipulation. That's respect."
"I'm glad you see it that way." Sandro pushed off from his desk. "For what it's worth, I think you're good for him. Elio's spent too long alone. Convinced himself he didn't deserve connection. Maybe you'll prove him wrong."
"That's the plan."
Sandro's expression turned more serious.
"One more thing. We're moving forward with the Winston exposure tomorrow.
The information will leak to the other families by end of business day.
Once that happens, there's no going back.
Your father will know you betrayed him. The Bianchis will come looking. Are you prepared for that?"
The reminder of danger should've scared me. Should've made me reconsider.
Instead I felt calm. Certain.
"Yes. I'm prepared. This is the right thing to do. The only thing that makes me safe long-term."
"Good. Because once we do this, you're one of us. Permanently. Part of Inferno. Under our protection. Is that what you want?"
I thought about Elio's hands on me. His voice saying you're mine now. The way he looked at me like I was something worth protecting. Worth choosing.
"Yes. That's exactly what I want."
"Then welcome to the family. Officially." Sandro offered his hand.
I shook it. Felt the weight of what I was agreeing to. Felt the certainty that this was right.
I wasn't just choosing Elio. I was choosing this life. This world. These people who'd given me sanctuary when I had nowhere else to go.
And I didn't regret it.
Not even a little bit.
***
At eight that night, Elio knocked on my door.
I'd been waiting. Changed into clean jeans and a dark blue henley. Tried not to look like I'd spent the last hour obsessing over what to wear.
When I opened the door, Elio was there in black jeans and a gray sweater. Casual. More relaxed than I'd ever seen him at Inferno.
"Ready?" he asked.
We took the private elevator down. Elio's car was waiting in the garage. We drove in comfortable silence. His hand found mine across the console. Threaded our fingers together.
Such a simple gesture. But it made my chest tight with feeling.
"Nervous?" he asked.
"A little. Good nervous, though."
"I've never brought anyone to my apartment before. It's my private space. No one from Inferno has been there except Sandro once when we first bought it."
"Then why bring me?"
"Because I want you there. Want you in my space. Want to see you somewhere that's just mine." He squeezed my hand. "Is that okay?"
"More than okay."
We pulled into an underground garage. Took an elevator to the fifteenth floor. Elio unlocked a door and gestured me inside.
The apartment was exactly what I'd expected. Minimalist. Organized. Everything in its place.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city. Hardwood floors. Sleek furniture in blacks and grays. No clutter. No personal photos. Nothing that revealed much about the person who lived here.
Except it did. Because the lack of personality was itself revealing. This was a space designed for function, not comfort. A place to sleep and work, not live.
"It's nice," I said.
"It's functional." Elio closed the door behind us. Locked it. "I don't spend much time here. Mostly just sleep."
I walked to the windows. Looked out at the city lights. "The view is incredible."
"It's the only thing I cared about when I bought it. Everything else is just—" he gestured vaguely "—space."
I turned to look at him. He was watching me with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.
"Why did you really bring me here?" I asked. "It's not just about the view."
"No." He crossed to me. Stopped close enough to touch but didn't. "I brought you here because this is the only place that's completely private. No cameras. No security monitoring. No risk of interruption. Just us."
"And what do you want to do with 'just us'?"
"Everything I've been thinking about since last night. Everything I had to hold back during meetings today. Everything I want to teach you." His voice was rough. Want barely contained. "If you still want that."
"I want it. I want you." I reached for him. Pulled him closer by his sweater. "I know what I want, Elio."
"Knowing and experiencing are different things."
"Then teach me. Show me the difference."
His control visibly cracked. I saw it happen. Saw the moment discipline gave way to desire.
Elio pulled me close and kissed me hard. Desperate. Like he'd been holding back all day and couldn't anymore.
I kissed back with equal desperation. Let him walk me backward until my back hit the window. Cool glass against my shoulders. Elio's heat against my front.
His hands slid under my shirt. Found skin. I gasped into his mouth.
"If we do this," he said against my lips, "we do it right. No rushing. We take our time. I want to show you everything. Teach you everything. Make you feel everything. Understand?"
"Yes. Anything. Just don't stop touching me."
He smiled against my mouth. "Oh, I'm not stopping. Not for a long time."
He pulled my shirt over my head. Dropped it on the floor. Then just looked at me.
"Beautiful," he said. Like it was a fact. Like there was no question.
"You said that last night."
"I'll say it every time. Until you believe it."
He kissed my throat. My collarbone. Worked his way down my chest with lips and teeth and tongue. Found my nipple and sucked hard enough to make me cry out.
"Too much?" he asked.
"No. Perfect. Don't stop."
He gave the other one the same attention. I gripped his shoulders and tried not to fall apart already.
"Bedroom," he said. "I want you in my bed."
He took my hand and led me through the apartment. The bedroom was as minimalist as the rest. King-sized bed with black sheets. Nightstands with precisely placed lamps. Nothing personal except a single book on the nightstand.
Elio pulled me to the bed. Sat down and pulled me between his legs.
"We're going to take this slow," he said. His hands rested on my hips. "I'm going to undress you. Touch you. Learn every inch of you. And you're going to tell me what feels good. What you like. What you want more of. Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"Good. Because communication is important. I need to know what you're feeling. What you're thinking. This only works if you're honest with me."
"I will be. I promise."
He unbuttoned my jeans. Slid them down slowly. I stepped out of them. Left standing in just my boxer briefs while he sat fully clothed.
The position should've made me feel vulnerable. Exposed. Instead I felt powerful. Because Elio was looking at me like I was everything he wanted.
"Your turn," I said. Reached for his sweater.
He let me pull it off. Then his shirt underneath. I ran my hands over his chest. Lean muscle. A few scars. Warm skin.
"You're beautiful too," I said.
"I'm not—"
"You are. And I'm going to keep saying it until you believe it."
He smiled. Pulled me down onto the bed beside him. We lay facing each other. Close enough to touch. Close enough to see every detail.
"I've thought about this," Elio said quietly. His hand traced patterns on my side. "About having you here. In my space. In my bed."
"What did you think about?"
"Everything. What you'd look like against my sheets. What sounds you'd make. How you'd respond to touch." His hand slid lower. Hooked in the waistband of my boxer briefs. "Can I take these off?"
"Please."
He slid them down. Left me completely bare while he was still in jeans. The contrast was deliberate. Maintaining some control even as he let himself want.
His hand wrapped around me. I gasped and arched into the touch.
"Already hard," he murmured. "So responsive. I barely have to touch you."
"It's you. You do this to me."
"Good." He stroked slowly. Learning my body. "I want to do more. Want to show you what it feels like. But I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
"I trust you. Completely."
"Then lie back. Let me take care of you."
I lay back against his pillows. Watched as he kissed down my chest. My stomach. Lower.
"Elio—what are you—"
"Teaching you. Showing you how good this can be." He looked up at me. Eyes dark with want. "Tell me to stop if you need to."
Then he took me in his mouth.
I nearly came off the bed.
The sensation was overwhelming. Wet heat. Pressure. His tongue doing things that made coherent thought impossible.
"Oh God—Elio—I can't—"
He pulled off. "Breathe. Just feel it."
He went back down. Slower this time. Let me adjust to the sensation. Let me process.
I gripped the sheets. Tried not to thrust. Tried not to completely lose control.
Elio's hands held my hips still. Kept me in place while his mouth worked magic. He took his time. Learning what made me gasp. What made me moan. What made my whole body tense.
"I'm going to—" I couldn't finish the warning.
He just took me deeper.
I came with his name on my lips and stars behind my eyelids. Elio worked me through it. Gentled his touch as I came down. Pressed soft kisses to my hip before moving back up my body.
When I could focus again, he was lying beside me. Watching me with satisfaction.
"Your turn."
"Julian, you don't have to—"
"I want to. Teach me. Show me how to make you feel good."
Want flared in his eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Completely sure. Please, Elio. Let me."
He groaned. "You're going to kill me."
"Is that a yes?"
"That's a yes."
He stood and stripped off his jeans and boxer briefs. Then lay back on the bed. Completely bare. Completely vulnerable.
I took a moment to just look. To appreciate the lean muscle. The scars that told stories. The evidence of arousal that proved he wanted this as much as I did.
"You're staring," he said.
"You're beautiful. Let me look."
I moved between his legs. Positioned myself the way he'd positioned himself with me. Nervous but determined.
"Tell me what to do," I said.
"Start slow. Use your hand first. Learn what I like. What makes me respond."
I wrapped my hand around him. He groaned. I stroked slowly. Watched his face. Learned what made his breath catch. What made his jaw tighten.
"Good," he breathed. "That's good. Now—if you want—you can use your mouth."
I leaned down. Took him in my mouth carefully. Tried to mimic what he'd done to me.
Elio's hand came to rest in my hair. Not pushing. Just touching. Grounding.
"That's it. Just like that. You're doing so well."
I worked slowly. Learning. Adjusting. Following his verbal cues and the sounds he made.
"Julian—fuck—you need to stop or I'm going to—"
I didn't stop. Just took him deeper.
He came with a groan. I did my best. Pulled back when it became too much.
Elio pulled me up. Kissed me thoroughly. "You're amazing."
"I've never done that before."
"I know. But you're a fast learner."
We lay tangled together. Both breathing hard. Both satisfied. The room quiet except for our breathing.
After a while, Elio said: "Stay tonight. Sleep here."
"In your bed?"
"In my bed. In my space. Wake up with me." His hand traced patterns on my back. "I want that. Want you here."
"I want that too."
We got under the covers. Elio pulled me against his chest. I fit perfectly there. Like we were designed to fit together.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"For what?"
"For this. For seeing me. For making me feel like I matter."
"You do matter. More than you know." He kissed my forehead. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be intense. The Winston information goes out. Things are going to change."
"I'm ready."
"I know. That's what makes you dangerous." He held me tighter. "Sleep, Julian. I've got you."
I closed my eyes. Felt safe and wanted and chosen.
Tomorrow we'd destroy my father. Start a war that would change everything.
But tonight I was in Elio's bed. In his arms. Exactly where I wanted to be.
***
I woke up at three AM to Elio's phone buzzing on the nightstand.
He reached for it. Checked the screen. His whole body tensed.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Sandro. Emergency meeting. Now." He was already getting out of bed. Getting dressed. "Your father's people made a move. They found one of our informants. We need to accelerate the timeline."
Fear spiked through me. "What does that mean?"
"It means we're exposing Winston tonight instead of tomorrow. The information goes out in the next two hours." He pulled on his shirt. Looked at me. "Get dressed. You need to be there. This affects you most of all."
I got dressed quickly. My hands were shaking. Not from fear. From anticipation.
This was it. The point of no return.
We drove back to Inferno in tense silence. Elio's hand found mine. Squeezed.
"Whatever happens," he said, "you're protected. I protect what's mine. Remember that."
"I remember."
We walked into Inferno together. Into the conference room where Sandro, Matteo, and Luca were already waiting.
This was it. The moment everything changed.
I sat down next to Elio and prepared to watch my father's empire burn.
And I didn't feel guilty.
I felt free.