Chapter 5 - The Price of an Empire
The silence that followed Julian’s words was heavy, suffocating, and terrifying.
I stared at him, my teeth sinking into my lower lip until I tasted copper. Every defense mechanism I had built over the last six months—the anger, the resentment, the determination to move on and build a life without Dorian—shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
He hadn't stopped loving me.
He had walked away, taken the blame, and lived through six months of pure, silent torture every single day just to keep a target off my back.
And now, because of a positive pregnancy test in a sterile hospital room, that target was painted brighter than ever.
“You're insane,” I whispered, my voice shaking with a cold, rising fury that eclipsed my fear. “Dorian will never give you his empire. He’d rather burn it to the ground.”
Julian laughed—a low, grating sound that echoed off the mahogany walls.
“Oh, my dear, you vastly underestimate what a man will do when he realizes his wife and unborn child are about to be put in the ground,” Julian murmured, turning away to walk back toward the large glass windows overlooking the foggy river. “Dorian is arrogant, ruthless, and brilliant. But he has one fatal flaw.” He turned back to face me, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. “He cares. And in our world, caring is a death sentence.”
Before I could hurl another insult at him, the heavy oak door to the study swung open with a loud, echoing bang.
A disheveled syndicate guard rushed into the room, breathing heavily, his face pale with panic.
“Mr. Moretti,” the guard gasped, breathless.
Julian’s aristocratic demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp, icy irritation. “What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?”
“It's the perimeter, sir,” the guard stammered, pointing frantically back toward the hallway. “The South Dock gates... they've been breached.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed. “How many men? Is it the police?”
“No, sir,” the guard swallowed hard, his voice trembling. “It's just one car. A black SUV. He bypassed the security grid in less than forty seconds. And... and he’s heading straight for the main warehouse.”
A slow, terrifying smile spread across Julian’s face.
“Well,” Julian murmured softly, picking up his suit jacket from the back of the leather armchair and sliding his arms into the sleeves with practiced elegance. “It looks like the father of the year has arrived.”
He walked over to the mahogany desk, unlocked a hidden drawer, and pulled out a heavy, matte-black automatic pistol. He checked the magazine with a sharp, metallic click, slid it home, and tucked it neatly into his shoulder holster.
“Keep her tied up,” Julian instructed the guard without looking back. “If I'm not back in twenty minutes, or if anyone else manages to get through that door… put a bullet in her head and throw her in the river.”
My blood ran instantly cold.
“Julian, wait!” I screamed, straining against the ropes as he turned and walked toward the study door.
He didn't even look back.
The heavy oak door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone in the dim, shadowy study with a single armed guard whose eyes were fixed nervously on the exit.
The digital clock on the mahogany desk glowed silently in the gloom: 3:42 AM.
Somewhere out there in the fog, moving through the labyrinth of the Moretti docks, Dorian was walking straight into a slaughterhouse. And I was sitting here, tied to a chair, carrying his child, completely powerless to save him.
Think, Alina, I told myself, my chest heaving as adrenaline flooded my veins. Think!
I glanced sideways at the guard. He was standing near the door, his rifle held loosely at his side, his attention entirely focused on the distant sounds of shouting echoing from the docks outside.
May you like
I pressed my wrists together, testing the coarse hemp ropes. They were tied in a double knot behind the wooden backrest, biting painfully into my skin.
If I didn't break free—and fast—neither of us was going to make it out of this room alive.
