Chapter 6

I couldn't go back to the room. I couldn't sit in that beautiful, cold cage and stare at the dress I was supposed to wear to my execution.

When the SUV dropped us off at the manor, Nico disappeared into his study with Matteo to discuss business; I assumed that meant making sure my uncle stayed in police custody without bail.

I took the chance to slip out the back terrace doors.

I walked around the grounds aimlessly. The Blackwood estate was huge, with neatly trimmed hedges, stone fountains, and ancient oak trees.

The rain had stopped, but the air was thick with mist. I hugged my arms around my chest, shivering in my thin turtleneck.

I found myself near a glass structure at the edge of the East Wing gardens.

The Conservatory.

It was a Victorian-style greenhouse, with a rusted iron frame and foggy glass panes. Inside, a faint, warm light glowed.

I didn’t plan to go inside, I just wanted to be close to the warmth, then I heard it.

Music.

A piano. The notes flowed over each other.

It sounded just like I felt.

I pushed the heavy door open and slipped inside.

The air was thick and humid, smelling of damp earth, orchids, and rain. The space was filled with exotic plants, ferns dangling from the ceiling, and statues of Greek gods hiding behind palm leaves.

In the center of the room, surrounded by a bed of white lilies, sat a black grand piano.

And playing it was a boy.

He had golden hair, messy and curling slightly at the nape of his neck. He wore a cable-knit sweater the color of oatmeal and dark jeans.

He played with his eyes closed, swaying gently to the rhythm of the music.

He was beautiful, not in the intimidating way Nico was, but in a way that reminded me of sunlight and summer days.

I stood by a large fern, afraid to breathe and break the spell.

But the heavy door clicked shut behind me.

The boy’s eyes snapped open, and the music stopped abruptly with a jarring chord.

He turned on the bench. When he saw me, he didn’t scowl or seem annoyed.

He froze.

His eyes were a striking mix of hazel green and gold, they widened, sweeping over my face, my damp hair, the redness around my eyes.

He stood up, he was tall, broad-shouldered, but lean.

"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, backing up. "I didn’t know anyone was in here. I'll leave."

"No!"

He said it too loudly. He stepped forward but stopped himself, holding up his hands as if to show he wasn't a threat.

"No, please," he said, his voice softer now. It was warm and rich. "Don't go, you didn't interrupt anything important. I was just... venting."

"You play beautifully," I said.

"I play loudly," he corrected with a self-deprecating smile that made him look boyish and charming. "It helps drown out the noise of this place."

He walked around the piano, moving slowly toward me. He looked at me like I was a rare bird that had flown into the glass house—something precious and fragile.

"I haven't seen you before," he said, stopping at a respectful distance. "And I would remember if I had."

I felt a blush heat my cheeks. I wasn't used to being looked at like this, with admiration. Usually, it was disdain or hunger.

"I'm Elena," I said. "I'm new. And... sort of infamous as of this morning."

"Infamous?" He tilted his head. "Ah, you're the girl everyone whispers about. The one involved with Professor Vance."

I flinched and looked at the floor. "I guess you want me to leave, then."

"Why would I want that?"

I looked up. He stepped closer, his expression confused and incredibly kind.

"Because I'm a rat," I said bitterly, repeating the word Bianca had used. "Because I betrayed my family."

"I don't believe everything I hear at Blackwood," he said softly. "This place runs on lies, Elena, and right now, you don't look like a villain, you look like someone who's had a really, really bad day."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief.

"Here," he said. "You're crying."

I touched my face, I hadn't realized I was leaking tears again, I took the cloth and It smelled like cedar and vanilla.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"I'm Julian," he said, holding out his hand.

"Julian Thorne."

I hesitated. Thorne. The Senator's son. His family wasn't mafia, but they were political royalty, they were untouchable in a different way.

I shook his hand. His grip was firm but gentle. His skin was warm, he didn’t let go right away, he held my hand a moment too long, his thumb brushing against my knuckles.

"It's nice to meet you, Elena," he said. The way he said my name sent a strange flutter through my chest. It wasn’t fear, It was... hope?

"You shouldn’t be seen with me," I warned him, pulling my hand back. "The De Lucas... I'm staying with them, I’m their..."

"Guest?" Julian suggested, though his eyes darkened at the mention of the name.

"Something like that."

"I'm not afraid of Nico De Luca," Julian said. He leaned against the piano, crossing his arms. He looked relaxed, confident. "We grew up together. Our fathers play golf, Nico barks loud, but he knows better than to bite a Thorne."

He smiled at me again, making it feel like the sun was coming out from behind a cloud.

"You look like you need a friend, Elena," he said. "And I happen to be applying for the position."

"A friend?" I let out a dry, shaky laugh. "I don't think I'm allowed to have friends."

"I'm very persistent," Julian said. His hazel eyes locked onto mine,

"And I think you're going to need an ally tonight at the initiation. It can be... overwhelming."

"You're going?"

"Unfortunately, but it might be bearable if I knew I could save a dance for you."

My heart did a traitorous flip. A dance with him. Someone who didn’t want to hurt me.

"I don't know if—"

"Well, well. Isn’t this a precious scene."

The glass door slammed open.

Bianca stood there, wearing a trench coat belted tightly at her waist, her dark hair slicked back from the rain, she looked beautiful.

She walked into the conservatory, her heels clicking sharply on the stone pavers. She glanced at Julian and then at me, a sneer curling her lip.

"Bianca," Julian said. His voice lost all warmth and became distant. "I didn’t know you were lurking in the bushes."

"I’m not lurking, Julian. I’m fetching," Bianca replied. She stepped in front of me, invading my personal space. She reached out and snatched Julian's handkerchief from my hand, tossing it onto the dirt floor.

"You’re contaminating him," Bianca told me. "Julian is a nice boy, Elena, he has a bright future in the Senate, he doesn't need the stench of a traitor rubbing off on him."

"We were just talking, B," Julian said, stepping forward and positioning himself slightly between me and Bianca "Back off."

Bianca laughed, looking at Julian with pity. "Oh, Julian," she cooed. "Don’t tell me you've developed a Savior Complex in the last five minutes. Look at her, she's damaged goods, Nico has already claimed her."

"She's a person, Bianca, not a piece of property."

"Is she?" Bianca tilted her head, grabbing my wrist with her nails digging into my skin.

"Because I'm pretty sure she's currently living in the Heirs' penthouse, wearing clothes Nico bought for her, doing exactly what she's told."

She yanked my arm, pulling me toward the door.

"Come on, Elena," she hissed. "Playtime is over, you have three hours to get ready for the party, and Nico wants to inspect you before we leave."

I stumbled, trying to keep my balance, I looked back at Julian.

He looked furious, his hands were clenched into fists at his sides, he took a step to follow us.

"Let her go, Bianca."

"Or what?" Bianca challenged, pausing at the door. "You’ll write a strongly worded letter to your daddy? Stay out of this, Julian, this is family business. De Luca business."

She dragged me out into the rain.

I twisted my head back one last time.

Julian stood in the doorway of the glowing glass house, he was staring at me. His expression was pained, intense, and full of a promise I didn’t dare believe.

Bianca shoved me toward the main house.

"Stay away from him," she warned, her voice low and dangerous. "Julian Thorne is the Golden Boy of Blackwood, If you drag him into your mess, Nico won't just break you, he’ll bury you."

She gripped my arm tighter, marching me toward the penthouse where the devil was waiting.

But for the first time since I arrived at Blackwood, I didn’t feel completely alone.

And I think I'm in love with Julian already.