Chapter 19 Julian #2
His mouth crashed against mine. Brutal. Possessive. I tried to jerk away. Couldn't. He held me in place. Kissed me like he was claiming territory.
I bit down. Hard. Tasted blood.
He jerked back. Touched his lip. Looked at the blood on his fingers.
Then he laughed. "Still fighting. Good. I like it better when you fight. Makes it more satisfying when you finally break."
He hit me. Backhanded across the face. My head snapped to the side. Stars exploded in my vision.
"But there are consequences for fighting." His voice was cold now. Dangerous. "You need to learn that. Need to understand what happens when you resist."
He moved around the chair. He pulled my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms, leaving my back bare. I heard his belt buckle. Heard the leather sliding free.
No. No no no. This was happening. This was really happening.
I fought the restraints desperately. Uselessly. The zip ties cut into my wrists. Drew blood. Didn't break.
"Elio's coming for me," I said. Desperate. Trying anything. "He's going to find me. And when he does—"
"When he does, you'll already be mine. Already broken. Already accepting your place. And then we'll be gone. Disappeared. He'll never find us."
The belt came down across my back. Pain exploded. Made me gasp. Made my eyes water.
"That's one. Let's see how many it takes before you learn."
I lost count after twenty.
My back was on fire. My face was swelling where he'd hit me. My wrists were bleeding from fighting the restraints. Everything hurt.
But I was still conscious. Still aware. Still fighting even though it was hopeless.
Dante had stopped hitting me. Was standing in front of the chair breathing hard. Looking at me like I was something he owned. Something he could break.
"You're more resilient than I expected," he said. "Most people would've broken by now. But you—you keep fighting. Keep defying me. I almost admire it."
"Go to hell."
"We're already there, little spitfire. We're already in hell. The only question is how long you want to suffer before you accept the inevitable."
He touched my face. Almost gentle. I jerked away. He grabbed my jaw again. Forced me to look at him.
"Tomorrow we finish this. Tonight I let you rest. Let you think. Let you realize there's no escape. No rescue. No hope. Just you and me and the future we're going to have together." His thumb traced my split lip. "Sleep well, Julian. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
He left. Locked the door behind him.
I sat alone in the dark and tried not to cry. Tried not to break. Tried to hold onto hope that was getting harder to maintain with every passing hour.
Elio. Please. Please find me. Please come.
I'm here. I'm waiting. I'm fighting.
Please hurry.
I must have dozed. Despite everything. Despite the pain and fear and impossible situation. Exhaustion pulled me under into fitful, nightmare-filled sleep.
I woke to sounds outside the door. Movement. Voices. Shouting.
Then gunfire. Close. Getting closer.
My heart raced. What was happening?
The door burst open. Not Dante. One of his guards—thick-necked man with a gun.
"We've got company. Move the package—"
More gunfire. Closer now. In the house above us.
The guard grabbed a phone. Started calling someone. "They found us. We need—"
The lights went out. Complete darkness except for emergency lighting that kicked in. Red glow casting everything in shadows.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs. Running. Multiple people.
The guard raised his gun toward the door.
"Don't move!" Matteo's voice. Unmistakable. "Drop the weapon!"
The guard fired. Muzzle flash in the darkness. Returned fire from the other side of the door The guard dropped. Dead or unconscious, I couldn't tell.
Then Dante was there. He must have entered the room with the guard. My skin crawled at the thought that he’d been close and I hadn’t known.
He grabbed my chair. Pulled a knife. Held it to my throat.
"Back off! I'll kill him! I swear to God I'll—"
The door exploded inward. Wood splintering. Lock shattering.
Elio burst through.
And everything stopped.
He was there. Actually there. Not a dream. Not a hallucination. Real.
Black tactical gear. Gun raised. Face set in an expression I'd never seen before. Cold. Lethal. Absolutely focused.
Our eyes met. Just for a second. His expression shifted. From lethal focus to something raw and desperate.
"Julian—"
"Stay back!" Dante's knife pressed harder against my throat. I felt it break skin. Felt blood trickle down. "Stay back or I cut his throat!"
Behind Elio, Matteo appeared. And Luca. Both armed. Both looking ready to kill.
"Let him go, Dante." Elio's voice was steady. Controlled. "Let him go and we can talk. Negotiate. Find a solution."
"The only solution is you leaving. All of you. Let me take what's mine."
"He's not yours. He never was. Let him go."
"Never. He belongs to me. Has since he was fourteen. You don't get to take—"
Matteo moved. Faster than I'd have thought possible. Circled behind Dante. Grabbed his wrist. Yanked the knife away from my throat.
Dante spun. Tried to fight. Matteo was faster. Stronger. Trained.
"Elio, get Julian!" Matteo slammed Dante against the wall. "I've got this piece of shit!"
Elio holstered his gun and was beside me in seconds. Pulling out a knife. Cutting the zip ties. Freeing my hands.
"I've got you. You're safe. I've got you."
My hands were free. I tried to stand. My legs gave out. Everything hurt. The room spun.
Elio caught me. Pulled me against his chest. "I've got you. I'm here. You're safe now."
Behind us, I heard Matteo. Heard Dante begging.
"Please—wait—we can talk about this—"
"No talking." Matteo's voice was cold. Dead.
Sounds of violence. Brutal. Efficient. Matteo wasn't using a gun. Was using his hands. His fists. Making it personal.
Elio turned me away. Held my face against his chest so I couldn't see. Couldn't watch.
"Don't look. Don't watch. Just focus on me. You're safe. I've got you."
I heard Dante screaming. Then choking. Then nothing.
Silence.
"It's done," Matteo said. His voice was flat. Matter-of-fact. "He's dead. Problem solved."
Elio didn't respond. Just held me tighter. Like he could shield me from everything that had happened. Everything I'd endured.
"Can you walk?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know. Maybe. Everything hurts."
"I'm going to carry you. Okay? I'm going to get you out of here."
He lifted me carefully. One arm under my knees. One supporting my back. I gasped as the movement pulled at the welts from Dante's belt. At my injured wrists. At everything that hurt.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Just hold on. We're getting you out."
He carried me up the stairs. Through the house. Bodies on the floor. Dante's guards. All dead or unconscious.
Outside. Fresh air. Freedom. Night sky above.
I could breathe. Finally breathe.
Paramedics were waiting. Ambulance lights strobing red and blue. Elio set me down on a gurney. Didn't let go of my hand.
"I'm not leaving you," he said. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."
The paramedics worked around him. Checking vitals. Looking at my injuries. The bruises. The split lip. The welts on my back. The bleeding wrists.
"We should take him to the hospital—"
"No." My voice came out hoarse. Rough. "No hospital. I just—I want to go somewhere safe. Somewhere private. Please."
"Julian, you need medical attention—"
"I'm okay. I'm not seriously hurt. Just bruised. Just—please. No hospital. I can't—I need to not be around strangers right now."
Elio looked at the paramedic. "Treat what you can here. If it's serious, we'll reconsider. But he's been through trauma. He needs privacy. Safety. Can you work with that?"
The paramedic nodded. "I can do basic treatment. But if there's internal injuries or serious trauma—"
"There's not. He's bruised. Dehydrated. Still has drugs in his system. But he's okay. Treat that here. Please."
They worked on me right there. IV for dehydration. Bandages for my wrists. Checking my back—the welts were painful but not serious. Checking my face—the split lip and bruised cheek would heal. No sexual assault. Thank God. Elio had gotten to me in time.
Through all of it, Elio held my hand. Didn't let go. Didn't move away. Just stayed close. Anchoring me.
When they were done, Elio helped me into a car. His car. Matteo drove. Luca sat in front passenger seat. Elio sat in back with me. I leaned against him. Let him hold me. Let myself finally feel safe.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"My apartment. Where no one can hurt you." His arms tightened around me. "I'm so sorry, Julian. I should've protected you better. Should've seen this coming. Should've—"
"You found me. You saved me. That's what matters." My voice was shaking. Everything was shaking. Adrenaline crashing. Shock setting in. "You came for me. I knew you would. I just—I had to hold on. Had to stay strong until you got there."
"You did. You were so strong. So brave. I'm so proud of you."
"Is Dante—"
"Dead. Matteo made sure. He's gone. He'll never hurt you again. Never threaten you again. Never touch you again. He's done."
I should feel something. Relief. Vindication. Satisfaction.
Instead I just felt empty. Exhausted. Traumatized.
We drove in silence. Elio held me. I tried not to think about the past eight hours. About Dante's hands on me. About the belt. About the knife at my throat. About how close I'd come to—
I shuddered. Elio felt it. Held me tighter.
"We're almost there. Almost home. You're safe. You're with me. Nothing's going to hurt you."
At Elio's apartment, he helped me inside. Helped me to the bathroom. Started running water for a shower.
"Can you stand?"
"I think so."
"I'll help you. I'm not leaving you alone. Not yet."
He helped me undress. Careful of the injuries. Gentle with the bruised areas. His face was tight with controlled rage at every mark he found. Every bruise Dante had left.
"I should've killed him myself," he said quietly. "Should've made him suffer. Should've made him pay for every mark on you."
"I'm glad you didn't." I touched his face. "I'm glad the first thing you did was get to me. Take care of me. That mattered more than revenge."
He helped me into the shower. Warm water. Steam. Washing away the basement. The fear. The feeling of Dante's hands.
Elio washed my hair. Careful. Gentle. Then helped me wash my body. Avoiding injured areas. Making sure I was clean. Safe. Cared for.
When I was done, he helped me out. Dried me carefully. Helped me into soft sweatpants and one of his t-shirts.
Then he guided me to bed. Pulled back the covers. Helped me lie down.
"I need to shower too. Two minutes. Will you be okay?"
"Don't leave."
"I'm not leaving. I'm going to be right in that bathroom. Door open. You can see me the whole time. Two minutes. I promise."
He was true to his word. Fastest shower I'd ever seen. Then he was back. Climbing into bed beside me. Pulling me carefully into his arms.
I broke.
The control I'd maintained through everything—the kidnapping, Dante's threats, the beatings, the rescue—all of it shattered at once.
I shook. Cried. Clutched at Elio like he was the only solid thing in a collapsing world.
He held me. Let me fall apart. Didn't try to stop it or fix it. Just held me while I processed trauma I'd been suppressing for hours.
"You're safe," he murmured into my hair. "You're safe now. He's dead. He's gone. He'll never touch you again. You're safe. I've got you. I'm not letting go."
"I was so scared. I tried to be brave. Tried to stay strong. But I was so scared—"
"I know. God, I know. I'm so sorry. I should've protected you better. Should've seen this coming—"
"You couldn't have known. No one could. This isn't your fault."
"I should've had more security. Should've made sure you were never alone. Should've—"
"Elio." I pulled back to look at him. "You found me. In eight hours. In a city of millions. Through shell companies and hidden properties. You found me and you saved me. You did exactly what you promised. You protected me."
His eyes were bright. Emotional. "When Stefan called.
When he said you were taken. I've never been that terrified in my life.
Every minute you were gone felt like dying.
Every hour I couldn't find you was torture.
I thought—" His voice broke. "I thought I might lose you.
Might not get to you in time. Might find you—"
"But you did. You got to me in time. Before—before he could—" I couldn't finish. Couldn't say it.
"I know. Thank God. Thank God we got there when we did." He pulled me close again. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again. Never letting anyone get that close. Never giving anyone the chance to take you from me."
"I don't want to be afraid. Don't want to live looking over my shoulder. Don't want this to break me."
"It won't. You're too strong. Too resilient. You survived tonight. You fought. You stayed alive until I could get to you. That's not breaking. That's surviving. That's being exactly as strong as I always knew you were."
We lay together in the darkness. Both processing. Both grateful. Both traumatized in different ways.
"I love you," I said quietly. "I held onto that. Held onto knowing you loved me. Knowing you were coming. That got me through."
"I love you too. So much. More than anything. You're everything to me." He kissed my forehead. "Sleep. You need rest. Your body's been through trauma. You need to heal."
"Will you stay with me?"
"Always. I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be right here holding you all night. Keeping you safe. Making sure nothing ever hurts you again."
"Promise?"
"I promise. On my life. On everything I am. I promise."
I closed my eyes. Let exhaustion pull me under. Let myself finally feel safe.
Dante was dead. The threat was over. I'd survived.
And Elio had come for me. Exactly like I knew he would.
We'd deal with the trauma tomorrow. Deal with the aftermath. Deal with healing.
Tonight, I was just grateful to be alive. Grateful to be safe. Grateful to be in Elio's arms where I belonged.
Tomorrow would bring challenges. Nightmares, probably. Trauma processing. Recovery.
But tonight, I was safe.