Chapter 5 - The Breaking Point
I was wrong to think they would go quietly. Three days later, the trap was sprung.
I was leaving a boutique in the city when a van swerved to the curb. Before I could scream, I was shoved inside, the scent of damp pavement and stale cigarettes filling my lungs. Jaxson was there, his face bruised and desperate, eyes wild with mania.
"You cost us everything!" he roared, wrapping his hands around my throat, not tight enough to kill, but hard enough to hurt. "Daddy’s in jail, and I’m going down for the money-laundering. But you? You’re going to be the leverage."
They took me to the old construction site—the very one my father had built using substandard steel. It was a skeletal, rusted nightmare of rebar and concrete. They called Julian. They gave him an hour.
When Julian arrived, he came alone. He didn't come with an army; he came with a promise. He stepped out of his car, his coat flapping in the wind, his eyes scanning the structure until they found me, tied to a support pillar.
"Let her go," Julian shouted. His voice was raw. The cold, calculating billionaire was gone; in his place was a man terrified of losing the only thing that had brought him back to life.
Jaxson held a gun to my temple. "You think you’re so smart, Thorne? You took my family, my money, my reputation. Now you watch her die."
"I don't care about the money!" Julian roared, taking a step forward. He dropped his jacket, revealing he was unarmed. "I don't care about the revenge anymore. You want blood? Take mine. Just let her walk away."
The sincerity in his voice paralyzed Jaxson. In that split second of hesitation, Julian lunged.
The struggle was violent and desperate. I heard the crack of bone, a gunshot that echoed against the concrete, and a scream. When the dust settled, Jaxson was unconscious on the floor, and Julian was clutching his shoulder, blood seeping through his white shirt.
May you like
I scrambled to him, my hands shaking as I pressed against his wound. "You idiot," I sobbed. "You absolute idiot."
He looked up at me, his face pale, but he smiled—a genuine, tired, beautiful smile. "I told you," he wheezed. "I wasn't here for the inheritance, Felicia. I was here for you."
