Chapter 5: The Wedding Night?

The adrenaline died the moment the elevator doors slid shut, sealing us inside the penthouse.

My knees buckled.

I would have hit the floor if Julian hadn't caught me. His arm wrapped around my waist, holding me up effortlessly.

"Easy," he murmured, his voice rumbling against my side. "The show is over, Vivian. You don't have to pretend to be strong anymore."

I looked up at him. The arrogant, terrifying King of the Underworld who had just bought a hotel to spite my ex was gone. In his place was a man who looked tired, and strangely... careful.

"Did we really just do that?" I whispered. "Caleb’s face..."

"He looked like he swallowed a lemon," Julian finished, a smirk playing on his lips. "It was poetic."

He guided me out of the elevator and into the main living area. The lights of the city spilled through the glass walls, casting long shadows across the room.

"Go to bed," Julian commanded gently, releasing me. "You’re shaking."

I wrapped my arms around myself. "Where do I sleep? The guest room?"

Julian paused while unbuttoning his cufflinks. He tossed them onto the marble island.

"There is no guest room, Vivian. This is a bachelor pad. I converted the second bedroom into a gym."

My breath hitched. "So... the couch?"

Julian turned to look at me, his expression unreadable. "My wife does not sleep on a couch. You will take the master bedroom."

"And you?" I asked, my voice small.

He didn't answer immediately. He walked toward me, his steps silent. He stopped inches away, his gray eyes locking onto mine.

"The bed is a California King," he said dryly. "It is big enough for two people to sleep without touching. Unless, of course, you want to touch."

My face flushed hot. "I don't."

"Good. Because I have work to do." He gestured toward the hallway. "Go. Take a shower. Wash off the scent of that cheap champagne."

I turned to go, but stopped. My hands fumbled behind my back.

"I... I can't," I muttered, humiliated.

"You can't what?"

"The dress," I admitted, looking at the floor. "The zipper is stuck. I can't reach it."

Silence stretched in the room. Heavy. Thick.

"Turn around," Julian said. His voice had dropped an octave. It wasn't a request.

I turned slowly, presenting my back to him. I felt the heat of his body behind me, radiating through the thin silk.

I held my breath.

I felt his fingers brush the bare skin of my neck. I shivered. His touch was rough, calloused, but his movements were incredibly gentle. He found the zipper tab.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pulled it down.

The cool air hit my skin as the silk parted. His knuckles grazed my spine, tracing the line of my vertebrae down, down, down to the small of my back.

Every nerve ending in my body was screaming. It wasn't fear. It was something else. Something dangerous.

"There," he whispered. His breath ghosted over my shoulder.

He didn't step away immediately. For a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. I found myself wanting him to.

Then he pulled back. The cold returned.

"Sleep well, Mrs. Thorne."

I grabbed the front of my dress to hold it up and fled into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind me.

The master bedroom was massive, dominated by a black bed that looked like it belonged in a gothic castle. I stripped off the dress, scrubbed my face in the ensuite bathroom, and found one of Julian’s t-shirts in a drawer. It smelled like sandalwood and him.

I climbed into the massive bed, curling into a ball on the far left side. I expected to stay awake for hours, terrified. But the exhaustion was heavy. Within minutes, I was asleep.

I didn't hear Julian come in.

I woke up hours later to the sound of a low voice. The room was pitch black.

I lay perfectly still, feigning sleep.

Julian was standing by the window, silhouetted against the city lights. He was on the phone.

"It’s done," he said quietly. "Caleb is ruined. The stocks are tanking."

He paused, listening to the person on the other end.

"No," Julian said, his voice turning ice cold. "She doesn't know. She thinks it's just revenge for the wedding."

My heart started to pound against my ribs. She doesn't know. He was talking about me.

"She doesn't know she is the Key," Julian continued. "I have her exactly where we need her. In my house. In my bed."

He hung up the phone.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I heard his footsteps approach the bed. The mattress dipped as he sat down on the edge.

He didn't lie down. He just sat there, watching me in the darkness.

"Sleep, little mouse," he whispered, brushing a stray hair from my forehead. "You have no idea what you just walked into."