CHAPTER SIX

Julian's pov

The man slowly turned to face me, taking his time as if I were nothing more than an unexpected interruption to his evening.

For a few agonizingly long seconds, he said absolutely nothing.

His piercing gray eyes remained fixed on me, studying every single detail of my face as though he were trying to solve a complex puzzle.

He looked at my messy hair, my barefoot stance, and the visible tremble in my hands.

The heavy, suffocating silence in the room made my anxiety skyrocket. My palms grew slick with nervous sweat, and the rushing sound of my own heartbeat hammered violently in my ears.

Finally, he gestured slightly toward a sleek leather armchair in front of his massive mahogany desk.

"Sit."

His voice was surprisingly low and calm, yet it carried an underlying weight of supreme authority that made refusal feel impossible.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, my eyes darting toward the locked double doors behind me, before I slowly sank into the chair opposite him.

I kept my back stiff and my eyes locked onto his, refusing to let my guard down for even a moment.

He walked behind the desk, his movements smooth and deliberate, before sliding into his tall leather chair.

He reached out and opened a dark leather file that lay neatly in the center of the polished wood.

"What's your name?" he asked, his gray eyes glancing up at me.

I stared at him for a few seconds, my throat tight as I fought to keep my voice from cracking.

"Julian... Julian Vance."

He glanced down at the paper inside the folder again.

"Age?"

"Twenty-one."

"And you're a medical student at St. Jude Academy?"

I frowned, a sudden chill running through me.

A knot of panic tightened in my stomach.

"How do you know that? Who are you? How do you have a file on me?"

He completely ignored my outburst, casually closing the leather folder with a soft thud.

Unable to hold back the torrent of fear and frustration raging inside me any longer, I leaned forward, gripping the arms of the leather chair until my knuckles turned stark white.

"Why am I here?" I demanded, my voice desperate.

"Why did your men kidnap me off the street?

What did I do to you?"

For the first time since I walked into the study, a faint, barely perceptible change crossed his cold features.

His jaw set slightly, and his dark eyebrows narrowed as he looked at me.

"You were taken by mistake," he stated bluntly.

I blinked, stunned into silence for a second. "What?"

"You were not the person I wanted," he repeated, his tone completely matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing a minor clerical error rather than a violent abduction.

A sudden, overwhelming surge of relief washed straight through my chest.

The heavy weight crushing my lungs lifted just a fraction.

If this entire nightmare was just a massive misunderstanding... if they had grabbed the wrong guy out in front of the club... then the nightmare was over.

He had no reason to hold me here.

"Then let me leave," I said quickly, pushing myself up slightly in the chair.

"Please.

If it was a mistake, just let me go.

My best friend is probably out there looking for me, my family must be worried sick... just drop me back in the city and I won't say a word to anyone."

His expression remained entirely unreadable, like carved stone.

He didn't blink. He didn't show a hint of pity.

"You can't go home."

My heart did a sudden, violent drop straight into my stomach. The brief spark of hope inside me died instantly.

"What?" I choked out.

"I said, you cannot leave," he reiterated quietly.

"You literally just told me I was taken by mistake!" my voice rose, cracking under the sheer weight of panic as I stood all the way up from the chair.

"That means I'm innocent! I have nothing to do with whatever illegal business you're involved in! You have zero rights or reason to keep me locked up in this place!"

He leaned back in his leather chair, crossing his hands calmly over his lap.

He watched my emotional outburst with an unsettling, predatory stillness.

"If I open those doors right now and let you walk out of this estate..."

He paused, his gray eyes locking onto mine with lethal intensity.

"...you won't survive a week."

The words hit me like a physical blow, sending a sharp, icy shudder straight down my spine.

The air was violently sucked out of my lungs.

I stared at him in complete, breathless confusion, my mind struggling to process the terrifying weight of his statement.

"What... what are you talking about?" I whispered, my voice trembling as I backed away from the desk.

"Why wouldn't I survive?"

Lorenzo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the dark wood of his desk, bringing his face into the warm light of the desk lamp.

His sharp jawline and ruthless expression made my chest tighten with a brand-new kind of fear.

"The men who snatched you were sent to eliminate a threat from a rival crime syndicate," Lorenzo explained, his voice smooth, dark, and deadly.

"Because of their incompetence, they dragged you into a war you know nothing about.

Right now, my enemies believe I have someone valuable hidden in this house.

If they find out you were taken instead, they will track you down, break you, and use your corpse to send me a message."

I shook my head repeatedly, terror threatening to swallow me whole.

"No... no, that's insane. I'm just a student! I don't know anything about crime syndicates or rivals!"

"They won't care what you know," Lorenzo said coldly.

"To them, you are a loose end. And in my world, loose ends are buried six feet under."

I sank back into the leather chair, my knees completely giving out beneath me.

Tears of pure frustration and horror blurred my vision as I stared at the man sitting across from me.

He was sitting there calmly explaining that my normal, quiet life as a medical student was completely destroyed and that he was the only thing standing between me and a casket.

"So what am I supposed to do?" I sobbed out, wiping my face with the back of my hand.

"Am I just your prisoner now?"

Lorenzo stood up from his desk, walking slowly around the mahogany wood until he was standing directly in front of my chair.

Looking down at me, his presence completely dominated the room, casting a long shadow over me.

"You stay here where you are protected," Lorenzo said, his voice cold yet oddly resolute.

"You follow my rules, you stay in this house, and learn to protect yourself.

You belong to my house now, Julian Vance. And as long as you are under my roof... no one touches you."