CHAPTER 15: The Truth About October

"Who were you talking to?"

Julian’s voice was low, dangerous, and demanding. He took a step toward me, his eyes locked on the phone still clutched in my hand.

I could have lied. I could have said it was a telemarketer, or the front desk. But the fire on the television screen was still burning in my peripheral vision, and the voice of Luca Vencetti was still echoing in my ear.

Ask him who was driving the car.

I took a deep breath, fighting the trembling in my knees. I didn't back away. I stepped forward.

"I was talking to a ghost," I said, my voice shaking but loud. "Or at least, someone you wish was a ghost."

Julian stopped. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Vivian. Give me the phone."

"October 12th," I said.

The words hung in the air like a guillotine blade.

Julian went perfectly still. The color didn't drain from his face; instead, his expression turned to stone. The mask was back, tighter than ever.

"What did you say?" he whispered.

"Ten years ago. October 12th," I repeated, tears pricking my eyes. "My mother didn't just lose control of her car, did she? Someone ran her off the road. Someone was chasing her."

I looked him dead in the eye.

"Was it you, Julian? Were you the one driving the car behind her?"

The silence in the penthouse was deafening. The only sound was the rain lashing against the windows.

Julian looked at me for a long, agonizing moment. He looked at my tear-filled eyes, my shaking hands, the phone I was gripping like a weapon.

Slowly, he exhaled. It was a ragged, heavy sound.

"Yes," he said.

My heart shattered. I gasped, stumbling back until my legs hit the edge of the velvet sofa. I collapsed onto it, the strength leaving my body.

"You..." I choked out. "You killed her."

"I didn't kill her!" Julian roared.

The sudden volume made me flinch. He walked over to the bar, gripping the edge of the marble counter so hard I thought it might crack. He didn't look at me. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, and for the first time, I saw genuine pain in his eyes.

"I was twenty years old," Julian said, his voice dropping to a rough growl. "I had just taken over the family business. I found a file on my father’s desk—a hit order. The Vencettis had put a price on Eleanor Hayes’ head because she had threatened to go to the police with evidence of their smuggling."

He turned to face me.

"I wasn't chasing her to kill her, Vivian. I was chasing her to save her."

I stared at him, wanting to believe him, but terrified to trust. "Then why... why did she die?"

"Because I was too late," Julian said bitterly. "I got to the highway just as Luca Vencetti’s men rammed her sedan. I saw her car flip. I saw it go over the guardrail."

He walked toward me, kneeling in front of the sofa so he was eye-level with me. He reached out, but stopped inches from my hand, as if he didn't feel worthy to touch me.

"I pulled her out of the wreckage," he whispered. "She was still alive. Barely."

Tears streamed down my face. "What did she say?"

Julian’s gray eyes searched mine. "She didn't beg for her life. She grabbed my jacket, her hands covered in blood, and she made me promise. She told me she had a daughter. A little girl named Vivian who was waiting at home."

He took a shaky breath.

"She said, 'Protect her. Don't let them find her.' And then she died in my arms."

I covered my mouth, a sob escaping my throat.

"I failed her that night," Julian said, his voice thick with emotion. "I couldn't save her. So I dedicated the last ten years to keeping my promise. I erased your records. I kept you hidden in the system so the Vencettis couldn't find you. I watched you from the shadows to make sure you were safe."

He reached out and finally took my hand. His grip was desperate.

"When Caleb sold you... I knew I had to step in. I couldn't watch from the shadows anymore. I had to bring you into the fortress."

"So..." I sniffled, looking at him. "You aren't the monster?"

"Oh, I am a monster, Vivian," Julian said darkly. "Make no mistake. I have killed men. I have burned cities. But I am your monster. I exist to keep the other monsters away from you."

He stood up, his demeanor shifting back to the cold, lethal protector. He held out his hand for the phone.

"Now," he said, his voice turning to steel. "Give me the phone. I need to see exactly which number Luca Vencetti used to call my wife."

I handed it to him.

He looked at the call log. His jaw tightened.

"He knows you know," Julian muttered. "He called you to turn you against me. He wants you to run. Because if you run, you leave the penthouse. And if you leave the penthouse..."

"He kills me," I finished.

"Exactly." Julian pocketed the phone. He looked down at me. "But you aren't going to run. Are you?"

I looked at the man who had held my dying mother. I looked at the man who had taken a bullet for me yesterday.

"No," I whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good." Julian checked his watch. "Because we have a war to finish. And tonight, Mrs. Thorne... you are going to help me win it."