Chapter 5: The First Crack

"Elena! Breakfast is ready!"

My mother's voice echoed up the stairs, bright and oblivious.

Julian sat up on my bed, pocketing his phone. "You heard her. Better go play the perfect daughter."

"What do you want?" My voice came out steadier than I expected.

He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You're in my room. Silas said you had 'instructions' for tonight. So what do you want?"

Something flickered across his face — surprise, maybe, or approval. "Careful, Elena. You're not in a position to take that tone with me."

"I'm not taking a tone. I'm asking a question." I crossed my arms, hyper-aware of what I was still wearing inside me, but refusing to show weakness. "You and your father made it very clear what I am to you. So tell me what you want so I can go convince my mother everything is fine."

Julian stood, closing the distance between us in two steps. He was close enough that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.

"What I want," he said slowly, "is for you to meet me at the university library tonight. Seven PM. Third floor, back corner. There's something you need to see."

That wasn't what I expected. "What?"

"You'll find out when you get there. And Elena?" His hand came up, fingers tracing the marks on my neck that the concealer hadn't quite covered. "Don't tell my father. This is between you and me."

Before I could respond, he was gone, slipping out my door like a shadow.

I stood there for a moment, trying to process. Julian wanted to meet me. Without Silas. In public.

That was either very good or very, very bad.

"Elena! The eggs are getting cold!"

I grabbed my new phone and headed downstairs.

The kitchen was obscenely bright — all white marble and gleaming appliances. My mother stood at the stove, humming to herself, looking happier than I'd seen her in years.

"There you are!" She set a plate in front of me. "Silas already left for an early meeting, but he made sure the cook prepared your favorites. Isn't that sweet?"

Sweet. Right.

"Yeah. Really thoughtful." I picked up my fork, trying to ignore how sitting down made me intensely aware of what Silas had put inside me.

"So, sweetheart." Mom sat across from me with her coffee. "Tell me the truth. Are you okay with all this? The move, the new school, everything?"

I looked up at her. Really looked. She had new highlights in her hair. Her nails were professionally done. The stress lines around her eyes had started to fade.

She was happy. For the first time since Dad left, she was genuinely happy.

"I'm fine, Mom. Actually..." I forced a smile. "I'm excited. New city, fresh start, right?"

"That's my girl." She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "I know it's a lot of change. But Silas has been so generous. Did you know he's already set up a trust fund for your education? Full tuition, housing allowance, everything. We'll never have to worry about money again."

The food turned to ash in my mouth.

"That's... wow. That's really generous."

"He's a good man, Elena. I know he can seem intimidating, but he really does care about us. About our future."

My phone buzzed. I glanced down at the screen.

Photo. Now. Under the table. - S

My blood ran cold.

"Excuse me a second, Mom. Just need to check something for class."

I slid my hand under the table with my phone, angling it up, and took the picture he wanted. Sent it before I could think about what I was doing.

His response was immediate: Good girl. Tonight, 9 PM. My office. Wear the red dress I left in your closet.

"Everything okay?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, just... email from the registrar. Confirming my transfer credits." The lie came easier than it should have.

My phone buzzed again. Different sender this time.

Don't forget. 7 PM. Come alone. - J

Two different meetings. Two different men. Both acting like they owned me.

And the worst part? I was already trying to figure out how to make both appointments without my mother noticing I was gone.

6:45 PM - University Library

The transfer student orientation had been a blur of paperwork and forced smiles. I'd met my new classmates — art students with their pretentious conversations about post-modernism and male gaze theory. 

None of them knew I'd spent last night being passed between a father and son like a toy they were learning to share.

I climbed the stairs to the third floor, my heart pounding. The library was nearly empty — just a few desperate grad students camped out with their laptops. 

The back corner was exactly what you'd expect. Dusty reference books nobody had touched in years. Shadows.

Julian stepped out from behind a bookshelf.

"You came."

"Did I have a choice?"

"No. But I'm glad you're still fighting." He handed me a folder. "Look at this."

I opened it. Inside were photographs. Documents. Financial records.

"What am I looking at?"

"My father's insurance policy on your mother. He's been documenting her 'embezzlement' since day one, just like he told you. But there's more." He flipped to another page. "See this? He's been paying off her credit cards. Depositing money in her accounts. Making it look like she's been stealing from him for months."

My stomach dropped. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because you need to understand the scope of what he's done. The trap he's built." Julian's jaw was tight. "He doesn't just want to control you, Elena. He wants to own you. Completely."

"I already figured that out, thanks."

"Have you?" He grabbed my wrist. Not rough, but urgent. "Because I don't think you understand what he's planning. The cameras in your room? That's just the beginning. He's going to isolate you from everyone. Make you completely dependent on him. And when he's done breaking you down, he'll—"

He stopped abruptly, his eyes cutting to something behind me.

I turned.

Chloe Vance stood at the end of the aisle, her phone pointed directly at us.

"Well, well," she said, her voice shaking with barely contained rage. "Guess I was right about you two."

Julian's hand dropped from my wrist. "Chloe. This isn't what it looks like."

"Isn't it?" She stepped closer, and I saw her eyes were red from crying. "I came here to return your fucking jacket, Julian. Thought maybe we could talk. But I guess you're too busy with her."

"You need to leave," Julian said, his voice going cold.

"Or what? You'll have your daddy threaten my family again?" She looked at me, and the hatred in her eyes made me step back. "I don't know what game you're playing, Elena. But trust me — you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

"Chloe—" I started, but she was already walking away.

Julian swore under his breath. "She saw us. She'll tell someone."

"So? We weren't doing anything."

"It doesn't matter. My father will find out I met with you behind his back. He'll think I'm trying to..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck. This is bad."

"Trying to what?"

He looked at me, something unreadable in his expression. "Trying to help you. Which is against the rules."

Before I could process that, my phone buzzed.

Change of plans. My office. Now. And bring Julian with you. - S

My blood turned to ice. "He already knows."

Julian checked his own phone and went pale. "Shit."

We stood there in the dusty back corner of the library, two people who'd just realized they were playing a game they couldn't win.

"We should run," I whispered. "Right now. Just walk out and never come back."

"To where? With what money? He'd find us in hours, Elena. And then..." Julian shook his head. "No. We go. We face him. And we pray he's feeling merciful."

But as we walked toward the exit, I caught sight of something that made me stop cold.

On one of the library computers, someone had left a browser window open.

A news article: *Federal Investigation into Kingston Global Shipping Expands - Anonymous Tip Suggests Human Trafficking Operation*

The article was dated today.

"Julian," I breathed. "Look."

He read over my shoulder, and I felt him go rigid.

"Someone leaked information to the Feds." His voice was barely audible. "About the routes. The shipments. Everything."

"Was it you?"

"No. But my father's going to think it was." He grabbed my hand. "Elena, listen to me. When we get there, whatever he does, whatever he says — let me take the blame. Understand? You stay quiet, you do what he says, and you survive this."

"I'm not letting you—"

"This isn't up for debate." His grip tightened. "He'll hurt you to punish me. I won't let that happen."

We walked out into the cold night air, toward the car that was already waiting at the curb.

The driver was one of Silas's men. He didn't speak, just opened the door.

We got in.

As the car pulled away from the campus, Julian's hand found mine in the darkness.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For all of this. For what's about to happen. For not being strong enough to stop it."

I didn't answer.

Because ahead of us, the Kingston mansion loomed like a cathedral built for worshipping darkness.

And somewhere inside, Silas was waiting to teach us both what happened when you broke his rules.

The game had changed.

And I was terrified we were both about to lose.