Chapter Thirty-Three
Julian
I sat on Miles’s couch, nervously picking at the hem of the oversized hoodie I’d stolen from his closet that morning—the fabric soft between my fingers but doing nothing to calm the storm in my chest.
Sunny was sprawled beside me, belly up and paws in the air like she didn’t have a care in the world. I envied her.
Miles was in the kitchen, humming low and pouring tea into mugs like this was any other quiet afternoon. Like Renee—his manager and the one person who might hold the key to saving me—wasn’t on her way here to hear everything.
Everything.
The truth I had never said aloud to anyone but Miles.
I gulped, curling my legs under me, trying to make myself smaller, wishing the cushions would just swallow me whole. My stomach twisted and turned, nausea creeping up my throat. Maybe I should have asked Miles to hold me again. Or cancel this whole thing.
What if she couldn’t help?
What if Victor found out I told her?
What if this made things worse?
My head spun with too many questions and no answers.
I ran my hand down Sunny’s belly absently. She gave a happy little huff, kicking one paw like she was dreaming. “At least someone’s relaxed,” I muttered, eyeing her small tail wagging against the cushion.
I glanced toward the kitchen. Miles caught my eye over his shoulder, smiled, and held up a mug. “Chamomile,” he said gently. “For you.”
My chest loosened just a little. God, he was trying so hard to keep this normal. Like tea and small kindnesses could protect me from the weight pressing on my ribs.
Maybe they could. A little.
But nothing could stop the clock.
Any minute now, Renee would be here. And when that door opened... my whole life might start to change.
Or fall apart completely.
The doorbell rang.
Sunny barked loudly—too loud—and I flinched, my whole body jerking before I could stop it. My heart leapt into my throat, nerves tightening every muscle in my chest.
“She’s here,” Miles said softly from the kitchen. I gulped, my stomach twisting so violently I felt sick.
I heard the quiet creak of the front door, Miles’s familiar voice greeting her gently, and then the soft click of heels on the hardwood floor.
“Julian,” Renee greeted kindly as she stepped into the living room. Her smile was professional but warm—just like always. Polished, perfect, like nothing in the world could shake her. “So... I hear from Miles you want out of your contract.”
She glanced between us. “May I ask why?”
The way she said it—gentle, but direct—made the words snag in my throat. My fingers gripped the sleeve of Miles’s hoodie, wringing the fabric so tight my knuckles ached. I felt the cushion dip beside me.
Miles sat down, close, his hand slipping over mine. A quiet weight. A reminder.
I could do this.
I pulled in a shaky breath. “Victor...” My voice cracked. I gulped, tried again. “Victor abuses me. Emotionally. Mentally. And... physically.”
The words felt like acid on my tongue. My chest clenched so tight I thought I’d choke on them. But they were out now. Hanging in the quiet air.
“I—I can’t do this anymore.” My voice trembled, shame heating my face as I stared at the floor. God, I probably sounded pathetic. Weak.
Sunny pressed her nose against my leg, whining softly like she could feel the storm twisting inside me. Miles squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing slow and steady over my skin.
I forced myself to glance up at Renee.
Her face wasn’t surprised. But it was serious. Her brows pulled together, mouth tight in a way I’d never seen on her before. Like something cold and dangerous was stirring beneath the surface.
“I had a feeling,” she said quietly. “But hearing it confirmed... Julian, I’m so sorry you’ve been going through this.” She leaned forward a little, her voice low and even. “You were right to tell me. This isn’t just a bad contract. This is illegal. And it’s going to stop.”
I stared at her, the words slow to sink in.
“I can help you get out. It won’t be easy—but I know how to break this, legally and cleanly. But I need details.” She held my gaze. “Enough to build a case. I won’t make you tell me everything now. But I need your permission to start.”
I gulped, throat raw.
Inner panic screamed, Victor will find out. He’ll ruin you. This could all blow up.
But Miles’s hand was warm over mine. Sunny pressed closer. Renee’s eyes held nothing but quiet, patient resolve.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay... you can start.”
Renee gave a firm, approving nod. “Good. You’ve already made the hardest step, Julian. The rest... I’ll guide you through it.”
Miles squeezed my hand again, leaning closer, his voice soft against my ear. “See? You’re doing amazing, pretty boy.”
And for the first time that day... I let myself believe him.
Renee leaned forward, pulling a slim leather notebook from her bag. She flipped it open, clicked her pen. Her gaze softened but stayed firm—professional, but not cold.
“Julian... I need to ask you a few things, okay? Just so I know exactly what we’re dealing with. I promise this stays between us unless you decide to act. You’re in control. Always.”
I gulped, my throat dry. I nodded slowly.
Miles’s thumb swept over the top of my hand again, grounding me. His knee brushed against mine—solid, warm, steady. I clung to the sensation like air.
Renee glanced at her notes. “When did the abuse start? As far back as you can remember with Victor. I need an idea of how long this has been happening.”
I shifted, the words sticking in my chest. My free hand—shaky—went to scratch lightly at Sunny’s soft fur as she leapt onto the couch beside me, laying her head gently in my lap.
“A...about two years ago,” I said softly.
“After I signed the contract for him to be my permanent and only photographer. At first it was small things. Criticizing me. Watching what I ate... making comments about my weight, my face. Then it got worse. Controlling who I saw. What I posted. When I slept. What I wore. He—”
My voice cracked. Miles’s hand squeezed mine firmly. “Breathe, baby. I’ve got you,” he murmured. I exhaled a shaky breath. Sunny’s warm head pressed against my thigh.
Renee’s voice softened, but stayed clear. “And the physical? How often?”
I glanced down, shame washing over me. I wanted to disappear.
“Not... not all the time. But when I argued, or when I didn’t do something fast enough. Slapping. Grabbing. Pulling me into bathrooms or behind sets. Yelling so close I could feel it on my face. And the other day... he um... he forced me to throw up, with his own... fingers.”
I felt Miles go still beside me. His grip tightened just a little. His breathing slowed—controlled. Silent fury. But he didn’t speak. He let me finish.
Renee wrote something quickly, her brow tense but her voice calm. “Has he ever left marks? Bruises? Anything visible that a doctor or camera would’ve caught?”
I bit my lip. “He’s careful. Usually grabs my wrist, my jaw—places that won’t show.” I gulped. “But the last time... my wrist was bruised. Miles saw it.”
She glanced at him. Miles gave a small nod, thumb still stroking over mine.
“And witnesses?” Renee asked gently. “Has anyone else seen or heard any of this happen? Other models, staff?”
I thought. My head was heavy. Fogged.
“Some crew members I think. And a few stylists. But they’re... scared of him too. They wouldn’t speak up.”
Renee hummed softly, scribbling something down. “And the contract. Did he ever make you sign anything... unusual? Non-disclosures, personal clauses?”
I shook my head. “Just the normal modeling contract. But I never read all of it. I didn’t... I didn’t think I needed to.”
“It’s okay,” she soothed. “I’ll get a copy and check every word. If he’s overstepping—even by a line—I’ll find it.”
Miles finally spoke, his voice low but firm beside me. “We’ll tear it apart. Every page. He’s not trapping you in this forever.”
I blinked fast, my throat tight. Sunny licked my wrist gently, like she knew.
Renee leaned back slightly, folding her hands. “I can file for breach of contract. Emotional and physical abuse violate every protection clause—even if you signed the basic one. If you want to press charges... that’s possible too.”
My heart pounded.
“M-Maybe,” I whispered. “But... I just want out. Quietly. Clean. I can’t... I don’t want a court battle.”
Miles squeezed my hand. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, baby. Renee’s just laying out options.”
She nodded. “He’ll settle. I can almost guarantee it. The last thing someone like Victor wants is exposure. But I’ll need you to gather texts, emails, anything you have. Proof.”
I hesitated.
“I’ve got messages,” I whispered. “And some photos of bruises. I took them... just in case.”
Miles’s grip on my hand flexed gently. “Smart. You’re so smart, Julian.”
Renee smiled. “Good. That helps more than you know.”
The weight in my chest lightened, just barely.
She closed her notebook gently. “That’s enough for now. You did really well.”
I exhaled shakily, like I’d been holding my breath for hours.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
She gave a small smile. “Miles said you were strong. He wasn’t lying.”
Miles chuckled softly beside me. “Told you, pretty boy.”
A weak smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. Sunny licked my hand again, like she agreed.
For the first time in months... the tiniest flicker of hope stirred in my chest.
Renee stood, slipping her notebook into her bag. She gave me one last small smile. “I’ll call you in a few days, Julian. We’ll handle this. I promise.”
Miles stood too, walking her to the door. I heard quiet thank-yous exchanged, the soft click of the door closing behind her.
And then the room was quiet.
Too quiet.
I sat frozen on the couch, my mind racing. What if Victor found out I was trying to get out? What if this made things worse? What if he ruined me? What if—
“Hey.”
Miles’s voice broke through the storm, soft but firm. I blinked up at him as he knelt in front of me, gentle hands resting on my knees.
“Breathe, pretty boy. You’re safe. He’s not here.”
I tried to inhale but it caught in my throat. My heart was thudding.
“Miles, what if this—what if this backfires? What if he blacklists me? What if he—”
“Julian,” he cut in gently, but firmly. “Stop. You’re doing it again. Overthinking.”
He grinned softly and leaned up, brushing his nose against mine. “You have me now, remember? Your emotional support boyfriend. Very rare. Very effective. FDA approved.”
A weak laugh escaped my chest, unbidden.
“There’s that smile,” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “I knew it was hiding in there somewhere.”
I closed my eyes as he kissed me again—casual, familiar. Like it was normal to be kissed this way. Like I deserved to be kissed this way.
Miles pulled back only slightly, his forehead resting against mine.
“Come here,” he murmured. He gently tugged me off the couch and into his lap, settling me sideways against him like I weighed nothing. His arms looped around my waist as he kissed my temple.
“You’re safe. You’re brave. And you’re mine. You don’t have to think about contracts or Victor or anything else right now. Right now you’re just... Julian. My pretty boy.”
I gulped, my fingers curling into the soft fabric of his hoodie.
“You’re annoying,” I muttered into his shoulder, trying to mask the tightness in my throat.
“I know,” he said cheerfully. “And you like it.”
I smiled faintly, blinking back the sting in my eyes.
He kissed the side of my neck. “See? It’s working. Annoying boyfriend therapy. You should be grateful.”
I huffed a shaky laugh, curling closer into his chest. “You’re the worst.”
“Yep.” He grinned against my skin. “And you’re stuck with me.”
I sighed, letting the warmth of him soak into my bones. Letting the terror fade just a little.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
His hand rubbed slow circles on my back. “Always, baby.”
A comfortable silence settled between us—Miles cradling me like I was something precious, Sunny curled at our feet, the world quiet outside.
And for the first time in so long... I didn’t feel trapped.
I felt free.
Even if only for this moment.