Chapter 5

Leonard frowned. “This was an emergency meeting.”

Julian sat across from him, lacing his fingers atop the table. “Correct. You called for it. I’m here to tell you, there is no emergency.”

Leonard’s jaw tensed. “I want to talk to Elara.”

“That won’t happen.”

“I need to apologize.”

Julian’s gaze hardened slightly. “You had years to do that.”

“I didn’t know,” Leonard said, voice rising despite himself. “Back then.. I didn’t remember. But now...”

Julian cut him off. “She’s doing fine without your memory. Or your guilt.”

Leonard’s fists clenched at his sides. “Is she yours?”

A pause.

Julian tilted his head slightly, a smile dancing at the edge of his mouth. Not confirming. Not denying.

“She’s her own,” Julian said simply. “But I protect what matters to me. And right now, Leonard, you’re a storm she doesn’t need.”

Leonard exhaled shakily. “She was different, back then.”

“She was better,” Julian replied coldly. “Even when she was quiet. And you broke her.”

Leonard looked away.

Then he glanced toward the glass doors… just in case.

A part of him still believed she might appear. That she’d walk in behind Julian. That he’d see her face one more time. Maybe get the chance to say...

“I’m sorry.”

Julian stood.

Leonard turned quickly, eyes darting past him, toward the hallway. A breath caught in his throat.

Julian looked back, voice quiet but firm.

“No one’s coming, Leonard.”

The door closed with finality.

Julian walked away without another word, but Leonard wasn’t ready to let it end there.

The glass door closed behind Cross like a final verdict, but Leonard shoved it open and stepped out into the sleek corridor of Atelier Cross, his polished dress shoes echoing sharply against the marble floors.

“Hey,” Leonard called out, his voice low but urgent.

Julian kept walking.

Leonard strode faster, catching up. “I’m not done.”

Julian paused, turning halfway, his expression composed but already stiff with restraint. “Yes, Leonard. You are.”

But Leonard wasn’t going to be dismissed again, not by the man who walked into Elara's life after he had left such a mark.

“You know,” Leonard said, stepping closer, “for a guy so smug, you’re incredibly insecure.”

Julian’s gaze didn’t flicker, but his jaw tightened.

Leonard pushed further. “You come in here, throwing around your little warnings, playing the knight in shining Armani, but you’re scared, aren’t you?”

Julian didn’t answer.

Leonard smirked, his voice dropping to a taunt. “You’re afraid I matter more to her than you ever will.”

A muscle ticked in Julian’s cheek.

Leonard took that as fuel.

He stepped even closer, so close Julian could smell the faint burn of expensive whiskey and desperation on his breath. “Want to know something? I was her first.”

Julian froze.

“I didn’t realize it then,” Leonard continued, voice lower now, quieter, like he was sharing a secret between men, “but I saw it. The next morning. The blood on the sheets. The way she wouldn’t even look at me. I didn’t get it at the time, I was drunk, I thought she was just shy. But now? It makes perfect sense.”

His voice grew colder.

“She gave me something she’d never given anyone. Not you. Not anyone.”

Julian’s hands clenched at his sides, the soft hiss of leather tightening echoing faintly in the hallway.

But Leonard wasn’t done.

“And let’s be honest,” he said, eyes gleaming with cruelty masked as confidence, “you really think she wants you? Come on. If I wanted her, I could have her.”

Julian inhaled sharply, a slow, controlled breath through flared nostrils. His entire posture was taut like a coiled spring.

“You have no idea who she is anymore,” he said quietly. Deadly calm. “You’re clinging to a version of her that died the moment you called her ‘gross’ in front of an entire cafeteria.”

Leonard’s smirk faltered just a little.

Julian leaned in now, not backing away, but closing the distance in a way that made the air between them suddenly feel electric, charged with raw male tension.

“You think because you had her first, she still belongs to you?” Julian’s voice was a dagger wrapped in silk. “You think what happened that night gives you power over her now?”

Leonard straightened his shoulders, but Julian didn’t flinch.

“Let me explain something to you,” Julian said, each word razor sharp. “She’s no longer that girl who looked down at bloody sheets and thought she was ruined. She’s the woman who turned that pain into art, who made your cruelty the foundation of her empire.”

Leonard laughed bitterly, trying to mask the crack in his ego. “So what, she cried to you about it?”

“She didn’t have to,” Julian snapped, eyes blazing now. “I saw the aftermath. I saw what it took to rebuild her. I watched her bleed and become steel.”

His voice dropped. “You? You left her broken. I helped her heal.”

Leonard’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “She’s not yours either.”

“No,” Julian said calmly. “She’s not anyone’s. But if she ever decides to give herself to someone again, freely, fully, it won’t be to the man who made her feel like dirt.”

Leonard’s breath hitched. He hated how much those words hit.

Julian stepped back, adjusting his cuffs like he hadn’t just dropped a grenade between them. “You want to see her? You want closure? Redemption?”

He looked Leonard in the eyes, cold, unwavering.

“You don’t deserve her time.”

And with that, Julian turned and walked away.

Leonard stood there, heart thudding like a war drum, face burning, shame and fury tangling in his chest like barbed wire.

He told himself it didn’t matter.

He told himself she’d come around.

But deep inside… something had cracked.

Because he knew...

Julian Cross had just said the truth...

Elara won't look his way now, but that didn't mean he'd give up.. 

He'd do whatever possible to have Elara because ain't no way he'd watch the woman who made him feel real connection in just a night walk away when she'd been taunting his dreams since that one night.