Chapter Thirty-Eight
Julian
I sat frozen on the couch; my fingers tangled in the hem of Miles’s sleeve where his arm rested against mine. Sunny was curled at my feet, warm and quiet, the room feeling far too still for the weight of what Renee was about to say.
Renee straightened the stack of papers in her lap, her glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose as she glanced between me and Miles. Her expression was calm. Steady. Confident.
I wasn’t.
My stomach was tight. My throat dry. My heart racing like it still didn’t believe this was real.
“Julian,” she began gently, “it’s done.”
My chest tightened. I gripped Miles’s sleeve tighter without realizing.
“You’re out of your contract. Officially.” She smiled—soft, understanding. “Victor has no legal hold on you anymore. The recordings Miles got, the photos, the evidence you took... It was more than enough. The legal team confirmed it this morning.”
The words washed over me like I was underwater. Blurry. Distant.
It’s done?
Really done?
Not a nightmare I’d wake from, choking on fear, wondering if he’d grab my wrist, my throat—whisper threats in my ear again?
“It’s over?” My voice came out small. I hated that. Weak and trembling.
Renee nodded. “Over. He can’t touch you again. Legally or otherwise. And if he tries, he’ll be facing charges.” She closed the file softly. “You’re free, Julian.”
I stared at her. Then down at my lap. At my hands twisting Miles’s sleeve.
Free.
I should’ve felt light. Like a weight was finally pulled off my chest. Like I could breathe fully for the first time in years.
But all I felt was hollow. Like my body hadn’t caught up to the truth yet. Like Victor’s shadow was still standing behind me.
“Julian...” Miles’s hand touched mine—steady, warm. Grounding. “You’re safe now. Really.”
I gulped, forcing down the knot in my throat. “I... I don’t know how to feel,” I admitted softly. My voice cracked. “I thought when this day came I’d be happy. Or—relieved. But I just... feel empty. Like I’ve been holding my breath for so long and I forgot how to let go.”
Renee leaned forward, her gaze gentle. “That’s normal. You’ve been surviving. Every day, surviving him. Your mind and body don’t shut that off instantly. But Julian... you did it. You fought your way out. You won.”
Won.
It felt so wrong to think of this as winning. Like crawling out of hell was a prize.
I felt Miles squeeze my hand, and I glanced sideways at him. His soft smile, the warmth in his eyes—it chipped away at the cold in my chest.
“You don’t have to know what to do yet,” Miles said quietly. “You don’t have to feel anything you’re not ready for. But you’re free. You don’t belong to him anymore.” His thumb brushed my knuckles. “You belong to you.”
My throat closed. God. How does he always know exactly what to say to stop my mind from spiraling?
Renee stood, collecting the papers. “I’ll handle the final release. His agency already knows. They can’t legally force you to any more shoots or appearances. You’re done. After this... it’s all yours to rebuild. Your career. Your peace.”
She smiled again. “And I’ll be here to help. So will Miles.” Her gaze flicked to him, warm and knowing.
I nodded with a gulp. “Thank you. Really.”
I didn’t trust my voice for anything else.
But inside?
Inside, something small cracked open. Like the faintest light after a long, dark night.
Maybe this was what freedom felt like. Strange. Quiet. New.
And terrifying.
But I wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
“So what do you want to do now?” Miles asks me.
I look at him, then I speak with a small smile. “To end this once and for all.”
The car ride felt endless. My stomach twisted so tight I thought I’d be sick. Every mile closer to Victor’s studio felt like dragging myself back into the lion’s den—but this time I wasn’t caged.
I kept my fingers laced with Miles’s, squeezing him just to keep my hands from shaking. I hated this feeling. This fear. Even knowing I was free—really free—the thought of seeing Victor made my chest lock tight.
What if he laughed in my face? What if he grabbed me again? What if everyone saw how weak I still was?
Miles glanced over as we pulled into the parking lot. “Hey,” he said softly, squeezing my hand back. “Look at me.”
I did. Slowly.
“You don’t belong to him anymore, baby. You’re here for you. You end this your way. And I’ll be right behind you—like always.” His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “Let him watch you walk away.”
I gulped. My heart hammered. But I nodded. Because I needed this.
I needed him to see I wasn’t afraid anymore. Even if I was shaking on the inside.
Even if I was lying to myself.
We stepped out of the car. I could feel the familiar weight of the studio—the smell of old lights and fake perfume, the click of heels on concrete floors. My skin crawled.
Breathe.
I could do this.
I gripped the papers in my hand tighter—the shredded remains of my contract tucked inside. My ticket to freedom.
We reached the studio doors. My fingers hesitated on the handle.
Miles leaned down close behind me, his hand warm on my back. “Deep breath, pretty boy. You’ve already won. Time to let him know it.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, squared my shoulders—and pushed the door open.
Voices fell quiet. Heads turned.
The room stiffened when they saw me—with Miles right behind, his hand brushing my spine. My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear the silence.
“Victor!” I shouted, my voice cracking the air like a whip. Everyone froze. Even the tech guys with wires in their hands. My own chest shook from the force of it.
And then I saw him.
Victor stepped out from behind the set, face darkening, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Well, well... look who finally crawled back.”
I gripped the papers tighter, forcing my legs forward. Every step made my knees tremble, but I refused to stop. I met him—face to face—my glare locked on his smug, rotting smile.
“This...” I held the shredded contract up, piece by piece, and let it flutter to the floor between us. “Is over.”
His face twitched.
I shoved the last scrap against his chest, hard. “You don’t control me anymore. Not my career. Not my body. Not my life. You have nothing left on me, Victor.” My voice was steady—shaking inside, but steady out loud. “You lost. I won.”
Gasps scattered behind me.
Victor’s eyes burned. His jaw clenched. His hands twitched at his sides like he wanted to grab me—but he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
I stepped back, lifting my chin, hearing Miles behind me like a silent wall of strength. I let the silence drag—let everyone in the room see him seething, helpless, powerless.
“You think this is done?” Victor sneered, his voice low and sharp as poison. “I’ll ruin you, Julian. I’ll burn your reputation to the ground. Everyone will know you’re a liar. A broken mess. I made you, and I can destroy you.”
I only smiled faintly. My voice soft. “Try. See how far you get without me chained to you.”
Then I turned on my heel, shoulders square, chest aching like it wanted to burst. Miles fell into step beside me, his hand brushing mine.
“Julian!” Victor roared after me. “This isn’t over! You hear me? You’re finished in this industry! You’re nothing without me!”
I didn’t look back.
Not this time.
I felt Miles’s hand catch mine as the doors swung open. His quiet voice cut through the noise, warm in my ear.
“He’s wrong, pretty boy. You’re everything without him.”
And for the first time in forever, I believed it.