Chapter 14 - Cold Whispers in the Dark
The meeting ended without a single bullet fired, but the victory tasted like copper.
Castiglione had officially recognized Julian’s claim to the Moretti empire, ratifying the succession under the old laws. But as the convoy rolled back through the gated grounds of the estate at three in the morning, the heavy iron gates slammed shut behind them with a foreboding thud.
The rain was falling in torrential sheets now, pounding against the limestone mansion like a barrage of stones.
Josie sat in the master bedroom, stripping off the heavy diamond choker. Her hands were shaking. The adrenaline that had carried her through the warehouse was evaporating, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.
"You took a terrifying risk tonight," Julian said, leaning against the doorframe of the adjoining bath. He had discarded his jacket and unbuttoned his collar, the dark ink of a sprawling family crest visible at the base of his throat.
"He insulted my child," Josie whispered, meeting his gaze in the vanity mirror. "I spent three years begging men in suits for mercy. I swore I would never let another man look down on me while Poppy suffered."
Julian crossed the room, his footfalls silent on the Aubusson rug. He stopped behind her chair, placing his hands on her bare shoulders. His palms were warm, steady, an anchor in the storm raging outside.
"You were magnificent," he murmured, his eyes locked onto hers in the glass. "No woman in my family has ever commanded that room like that. Not even my mother."
Before Josie could answer, the lights flickered once, twice, and died.
Total darkness plunged over the bedroom.
The low hum of the estate's backup generators failed to kick in.
"Julian?" Josie gasped, her breath catching in her throat.
May you like
Instantly, his hands shifted, one arm wrapping around her waist, lifting her bodily from the chair and pulling her down behind the heavy mahogany vanity just as the tall arched windows shattered inward in a hail of glass and suppressed gunfire.
***
