Chapter 9: “You Belong To Me”

The two guards stepped forward. One of them finally realized who was hiding beneath the black hoodie.

“Mrs. Cross,” the taller guard said, her voice firm but respectful. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Cross’s instructions are clear. No one leaves the building without his authorization after 10 PM. Especially not you.”

I took a step back, my mind racing for a lie.

“Oh, about that. My husband is aware. I’m just going for a walk. I need some fresh air.”

The second guard shook her head.

“Orders are orders, ma’am. We’ll escort you back upstairs.”

My pulse thundered. The Velvet Shadow flashed through my mind—Diva waiting with answers about my father. The bar was so close. I could almost taste the chance to finally learn the truth.

I pushed harder.

“My husband knows I’m leaving. Or do I need permission to take a walk in my own house?”

One guard looked uneasy at the sharpness in my voice. The taller one sighed.

“Okay, ma’am. But I’ll have to confirm with the boss first.”

I knew that if they called Julian, everything would be over.

“You know what? Never mind.”

I turned as if I were going to comply and head back upstairs.

Then I saw my chance.

The moment they relaxed, I bolted sideways toward the garage ramp. Adrenaline screamed through my veins.

Heavy footsteps pounded behind me.

“Mrs. Cross! Stop!”

I kept running and didn’t dare look back. My heart hammered against my ribs. I was almost at the exit door, fingers stretching toward the cold metal handle, when a strong hand grabbed my shoulder and yanked me backward.

I hit the concrete floor with a painful thud. The air rushed out of me as pain shot through my back.

“Mrs. Cross, stop!” one guard snapped, pulling me up by the arm. Her grip hurt.

The other grabbed my wrist.

“She’s fighting us tonight.”

I twisted and pulled, but they were too strong.

“Let go! I just wanted some air—”

The service elevator doors slid open.

Julian stepped out.

He didn’t say a word.

His face was tight with rage, his sharp blue eyes burning. The Ghost of Wall Street looked ready to destroy everything in his path.

The two guards froze.

Julian moved fast.

His hand cracked across the first guard’s face with a loud slap. The woman stumbled backward, blood appearing on her lip. Before the second guard could react, he backhanded her too, sending her crashing into the wall.

“You touched her.”

His voice was low and deadly.

“You put your hands on my wife.”

My heart raced.

I should have been scared.

Instead, something hot stirred deep inside me.

The way he lost control for me. The raw power. The fierce protectiveness.

It was terrifying.

And unbelievably attractive.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

This cold, controlled man had just exploded because someone else dared to touch what he considered his.

Part of me hated how much I liked seeing that side of him.

Julian stood over the guards, tall and commanding.

“Never touch her again. Not once in your lives. The next time you see my wife doing anything, you call me. Got it?”

Both women nodded quickly, their eyes fixed on the floor.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, Mr. Cross.”

He didn’t even look at them anymore.

His burning gaze locked onto me.

I was still on the floor, breathing hard, tears of frustration stinging my eyes. My hoodie had shifted, and every part of my body ached.

Our plan with Laura had been so close to working.

Julian crossed the distance in two long strides, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me to my feet. His grip was firm and possessive, but he didn’t hurt me.

We rode the private elevator up in heavy silence.

I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“You didn’t have to hit them like that,” I said, trying to pull my wrist free. “I was just going for a walk. This place feels like a prison.”

Julian stayed silent.

His jaw tightened. His eyes remained fixed on the glowing floor numbers.

That silence felt heavier than any shout.

The doors opened into the main foyer.

Julian’s voice boomed through the penthouse.

“Laura! Elena! Sophia! All of you. Now.”

The female staff hurried in from every direction, heads lowered, faces pale.

Laura arrived last.

Her hands shook as she clasped them together. She looked like she might faint.

The room felt suffocating with tension.

No one dared speak.

Julian’s voice dropped, but it still cut through the room like a knife.

“Which one of you used your key card to open the service elevator tonight?”

Silence.

He stepped closer.

Anger rolled off him in waves.

“I won’t ask again. Who?”

One by one, they whispered the same answer.

“Not me, sir.”

Laura looked ghostly pale, her eyes silently begging me for help.

I stepped forward.

“I only wanted a walk, husband. No one helped me with anything.”

Julian’s stare landed on me.

Heavy.

Dark.

Intense enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Dismissed.”

The growl in his voice was enough.

The staff scattered immediately.

His hand locked around my wrist again.

Without another word, he pulled me up the floating staircase and straight into the master bedroom.

With one powerful shove, he threw me onto the bed.

I bounced against the soft mattress before quickly sitting up, my heart hammering.

Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out the diamond ring I had hidden beneath the pillow.

Oh no.

“Where were you going, Clara?”

His voice was quiet, but it demanded the truth.

He stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on mine.

“I told you. Just a walk. Some fresh air. This penthouse is suffocating me.”

He leaned down slowly, one knee sinking into the mattress beside me.

His large frame caged me in.

His familiar scent wrapped around me, warm and masculine, making it harder to think.

He was so close I could feel the heat coming off his body.

“Try again,” he said softly.

His face hovered inches from mine.

“The real reason.”

My back pressed against the headboard.

He didn’t move away.

The tension stretched tighter between us, thick and electric.

My pulse raced.

His gaze dropped to my lips for a long moment.

Something shifted.

The room felt smaller.

Hotter.

Every second seemed to drag, pulling me deeper into his stare.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I needed the questions to stop.

I needed to break his control.

I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him.

Our first kiss.

It hit like fire.

His mouth was warm and demanding, carrying the taste of power and heat.

For a moment, he went completely still.

Shocked.

Then he kissed me back.

Deep.

Hungry.

His hand slid into my hair, gripping just tightly enough to make me gasp against his lips.

A small sound escaped me before I could stop it.

And I hated how much I liked it.

The way he took control.

The way his body moved closer.

The way heat rushed through every part of me.

My hand drifted lower and pressed against the front of his trousers.

I felt his body tense beneath my touch.

For one reckless moment, I wanted to lose myself in the kiss.

To forget the lies.

To forget the poison.

To forget everything.

Julian pulled away suddenly.

His breathing was rough.

His eyes looked almost stunned, as though I had shaken something buried deep inside him.

He stared at me for a long, heavy moment.

Silent.

Then he stood.

Slowly.

Carefully.

He placed the ring on the nightstand with a soft clink.

A clear message.

This conversation wasn’t over.

Without another word, he turned and walked out.

The door clicked shut behind him.

I fell back onto the black silk sheets, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

My lips still tingled.

The bedroom lights had dimmed into that familiar red glow, making everything feel intimate and dangerous.

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city glittered endlessly against the night.

Cold.

Beautiful.

Far away.

What have I done?

My thoughts were a complete mess.

Diva was probably still waiting at that bar with answers about my father’s poisoning—answers Julian seemed determined to keep hidden.

My father was fighting for his life in a hospital bed.

And I was trapped inside this beautiful prison, kissing the man I had come here to destroy.

But that kiss…

And the way Julian had exploded downstairs because of me.

The possessiveness in his eyes.

The fury in his voice.

The way he looked at me as if I belonged to him.

It scared me how much I wanted more of that side of him.

For one reckless second, I had felt completely claimed.

Safe inside his storm.

Wanted in a way I had never experienced before.

I touched my swollen lips and glanced at the ring shining on the nightstand.

It looked like a beautiful cage.

He was changing me.

Or maybe I was starting to change him.

The frightening truth?

A small part of me didn’t want this feeling to end.