CHAPTER FIVE

Julian's pov

I woke to the heavy, unmistakable sound of a brass lock clicking open.

My eyes flew open instantly. My heart slammed violently against my ribs like a trapped bird, and I scrambled back across the massive mattress, dragging myself all the way to the headboard.

Fear gripped my throat so tightly I could barely draw a breath into my lungs.

My mind was racing I had no idea what was about to happen, but trapped in a place like this, I knew it couldn't be anything good.

Curling myself tightly into the far corner of the plush bed, I wrapped my arms around my knees, shivering as I braced for whatever was about to step through that heavy door.

Two broad-shouldered men dressed in tailored black suits walked quietly into the room.

Their expressions were stoic, unreadable, and completely void of warmth.

One of them stopped at the foot of the bed, his cold dark eyes sweeping over my terrified state without a sliver of sympathy.

"The Boss wants to see you," he said in a flat, measured tone.

I frowned, blinking at him in utter confusion, convinced my frantic mind was mishearing things.

"What?"

"The Boss wants to see you," he repeated, his voice carrying an edge of absolute authority that made it clear this wasn't an invitation it was an order.

My heart skipped a violent beat.

The Boss?

Who on earth was he? What could a criminal leader possibly want with an ordinary medical student?

I didn't even know who these people were or why they had yanked me off the street outside Vespera.

Countless frantic questions raced through my mind at a dizzying speed, each one scarier than the last.

Was I being held for ransom? Did they think I was someone else?

"No," I choked out, shaking my head repeatedly as I pressed my back deeper into the wooden headboard.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"You don't have a choice," the second guard replied calmly, stepping aside and making a subtle gesture with his head toward the open doorway.

I looked at the two towering men, then past them at the empty corridor beyond. I was barefoot, my hands were trembling uncontrollably, and these men looked like they could break me in half without breaking a sweat.

Realizing I had zero chance of fighting my way out, I slowly swung my bare feet off the bed and reluctantly followed them out into the hallway.

As we walked through the estate, I couldn't stop my eyes from darting frantically in every direction, searching for an exit or at least an understanding of where I was.

The mansion was staggering. The long, winding hallways were decorated with breathtaking elegance polished white marble floors reflected the warm glow of grand crystal chandeliers hanging high above.

Intricate oil paintings in heavy gold frames lined the walls, and every single piece of antique furniture looked like it belonged in a museum rather than a private residence.

For a single, surreal second, the sheer grandeur made me forget the horrifying reality of my situation.

This place was far more like a royal palace than a dark prison, making the underlying danger feel even more twisted.

Eventually, we stopped at the end of a private wing in front of a pair of massive, dark oak double doors. One of the guards stepped forward, pushing one of the heavy doors open with a quiet creak.

"Inside," he ordered, his voice echoing softly against the marble.

I swallowed the dry lump in my throat and forced my shaking legs to step across the threshold.

The room was a vast private study. Floor-to-ceiling wooden bookshelves lined three of the walls, packed with leather-bound volumes and ancient manuscripts.

A massive dark mahogany desk sat near the center of the space, completely clutter-free except for a single brass lamp and a leather folder.

Behind me, the guards stepped back into the hallway and pulled the heavy oak doors shut.

The sharp, heavy sound of the deadbolt clicking back into place echoed through the room like a gunshot.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, my pulse hammering in my ears.

A man stood near the floor-to-ceiling window on the far side of the study, his back turned to me.

He was tall, built with broad shoulders beneath a flawless black suit. His hands were loosely clasped behind his back as he silently looked out over the glowing city skyline of Rome far below.

Slowly... he turned around to face me.

The moment our eyes met, an icy chill ran straight down my spine, pinning me to the spot.

His piercing gray eyes were cold, razor-sharp, and completely unreadable.

There was something intensely terrifying about the way he looked at me it wasn't with outright anger or cruel malice, but with a quiet, lethal composure that was far more unsettling.

He stood there in complete silence, evaluating me from head to toe, as if weighing my worth and trying to figure out what to do with a mistake that didn't belong in his world.

I lowered my gaze to the dark rug, physically unable to hold the crushing weight of his stare any longer.

My hands gripped the fabric of my shirt, my knuckles turning stark white.

The silence stretching between us in the massive room felt endless, thick enough to suffocate.

My mind was screaming at me to say something, to demand answers, to beg for my freedom but the aura of power radiating off the man standing in front of me locked the words in my throat.

For the first time since I had been dragged into the back of that SUV... I felt completely and utterly helpless.