CHAPTER 8: THE DEVIL’S JUSTIFICATION

The air in the panic room suddenly felt too thick to breathe.

Clara stared into Julian’s eyes, searching for a flicker of regret, a shadow of remorse, or any sign of human decency.

She found absolutely nothing but a cold, bottomless abyss.

“You’re a monster,” Clara whispered, her voice trembling so violently she could barely form the words.

Julian didn’t flinch, nor did he back away from her terrified gaze.

“I am exactly what this world requires me to be,” he stated flatly, his dark eyes tracing the frantic pulse beating at the base of her throat.

“She was his mother, Julian!” Clara cried out, gesturing frantically toward the sleeping boy on the leather sofa. “She gave birth to him!”

Julian’s jaw clenched so hard that a muscle ticked furiously beneath his bruised skin.

“She planted a remote explosive under his crib, Clara,” Julian snarled, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that vibrated against her chest. “She stood in the driveway, watched the nursery window, and pressed the detonator herself.”

Clara felt the blood drain entirely from her face.

The horrific image flashed in her mind, sickening and impossible to comprehend.

What kind of mother could look at her own innocent child and choose greed over his life?

“She wanted the Valenti family’s money more than she wanted to be a mother,” Julian continued, his words dripping with a toxic, unresolved hatred. “I pulled my son out of the burning rubble with my bare hands.”

He held up his palms, showing her the faint, jagged burn scars that crisscrossed his rough skin.

“He lost his hearing because her bomb ruptured his eardrums,” Julian said, his voice finally cracking with a devastating, raw pain. “So yes, Clara. I buried her alive beneath the floorboards, and I slept like a baby that same night.”

Clara couldn’t speak.

Her mind was violently tearing itself apart, caught between the sheer horror of his actions and the heartbreaking reality of a father holding his bleeding son.

Could you ever look at a man the same way knowing he was capable of such justified savagery?

Julian stepped back, dropping his arms and giving her space to breathe.

“You asked me who you were replacing,” Julian said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “You aren’t replacing anyone.”

He looked back up, his eyes suddenly burning with a dangerous, consuming obsession.

“She was a mistake,” Julian vowed, stepping forward to gently brush a strand of hair behind Clara’s ear. “You are my absolute salvation.”

Before Clara could process the terrifying weight of his confession, the heavy red lights above them flickered and turned a solid, blinding white.

The electronic lock on the heavy steel door clicked loudly, signaling the end of the estate lockdown.

Julian’s hand dropped from her face, his entire demeanor instantly hardening back into the ruthless boss.

“The threat is cleared,” he announced coldly, turning his back on her. “Wake the boy.”

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