CHAPTER 6: THE CONFESSION IN THE DARK
The estate went completely dark as the emergency lockdown protocol engaged.
Red warning lights bathed the ruined hallways in a sinister, bloody glow.
Julian’s men had secured the perimeter, but the smell of gunpowder still choked the air inside the mansion.
Julian carried Leo in one arm and held Clara’s hand with his other, practically dragging her toward his private study.
He kicked the heavy steel door shut behind them, locking the three of them inside the reinforced panic room.
Leo immediately buried his face in the corner of a leather sofa, exhausted and shaking.
Clara knelt beside the boy, signing gentle words until his heavy eyelids finally closed in sleep.
When she stood up, Julian was watching her from the shadows.
He was pouring a glass of amber whiskey, his hands trembling violently against the crystal decanter.
“I tried to keep this world away from him,” Julian whispered, downing the drink in one harsh swallow.
“He doesn’t understand the violence, Julian,” Clara said softly, stepping closer to the massive mahogany desk. “He only understands that you protected him.”
Julian set the glass down with a heavy thud.
“He almost lost you today,” Julian said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, rough gravel.
“I’m just his teacher,” Clara replied, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“Do not lie to me,” Julian snapped, stepping around the desk to close the distance between them. “Not after what just happened out there.”
He stopped right in front of her, his chest brushing against hers.
“You are not just a teacher,” Julian murmured, reaching out to trace a line of dust off her cheek. “You are the only good thing that has breathed air in this house for five years.”
Clara swallowed hard, trapped between the wall and the most dangerous man in the city.
How far would you go to protect the only peace you’ve ever known?
“Julian,” she breathed, her voice betraying the desperate heat pooling in her stomach.
“I saw that gun pointed at you, Clara,” he confessed, his thumb tracing her lower lip. “And my heart entirely stopped beating.”
He leaned in, his lips hovering mere millimeters from hers.
“I will burn Chicago to the ground before I let anyone take you away from me,” he vowed against her mouth.
He kissed her hard, a desperate, bruising collision of teeth and heat that made Clara forget how to breathe.
She kissed him back, tangling her fingers in his dark, ruined hair.
It was a mistake. She knew it was a terrible mistake.
But the danger rolling off his skin was too intoxicating to resist.
