Chapter 4 - The Hidden Scars
The morning after the storm brought an uneasy truce. When I woke up, I was lying on the edge of the master bed, wrapped in a warm wool blanket, and Julian was gone.
I found him down by the private dock, sitting silently on the wooden edge with his feet dangling inches above the dark, icy water. He was wearing a dark sweater, his bandaged hand resting heavily on his knee. He looked older in the morning light, the sharp angles of his face etched with a haunting vulnerability.
As I stepped onto the wooden dock, the boards creaked under my boots. Julian didn't turn around, but his voice carried over the gentle lapping of the water.
"Why didn't you leave last night?" he asked quietly, his tone devoid of its usual venom. "You had the keys to the car. The front door was unlocked. You could have driven away and never looked back."
I walked over and sat down beside him, keeping a respectful distance. "Because running away is what people do when they're scared of a mess. I grew up in the dust storms of Texas, Julian. I know how to weather a storm."
He turned his head slowly, his dark eyes locking onto mine. There was a flicker of genuine surprise in his gaze, followed by something deeper — something like respect.
"My family didn't tell you everything," he said, holding up his heavily bandaged hand. "They told you I had an accident. They told you I was unstable. But they didn't tell you why."
"Why?" I prompted gently.
Julian stared back out at the vast expanse of the lake, his jaw tightening. "Two years ago, I was driving back from a corporate acquisition in Seattle. My younger sister, Chloe, was in the passenger seat. A semi-truck lost control on the mountain pass. I swerved to save her side of the car, taking the full impact of the collision. The car plunged down a thirty-foot embankment."
His voice dropped to a hollow whisper. "Chloe walked away with a broken arm. But I spent three weeks in a medically induced coma, my spine crushed, my mind shattered by the trauma. And worse... my father used the tragedy to sweep corporate corruption under the rug, pinning the blame on me while I was unconscious. My own family treated me like a broken asset, a liability to the Hawthorn empire. They didn't lock me away to protect society, Cora. They locked me away to hide their own sins."
May you like
The revelation hung in the crisp mountain air like a physical weight. I looked at Julian — not as a billionaire heir, not as a volatile monster, but as a man who had sacrificed everything for someone he loved, only to be betrayed by the people who owed him the most.
Without thinking, I reached out and placed my hand over his bandaged knuckles. He flinched slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, slowly, his fingers turned upward and intertwined with mine.
