One last pleasure before divorce

Chapter2

Chapter 2: The Silent Alarm

"Did you give it to her, Elena?"

Julian’s voice was no longer the gravelly silk of a lover. It was a blade, cold and sharp, pressed right against her soul. He didn't pull out of her slowly; he shoved himself away as if her very touch had become toxic.

Elena scrambled back against the cold glass of the window, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Her dress hung in ruins around her waist, and her skin was still flushed, still tingling from the friction of his body. "I didn't... Julian, I haven't even spoken to your mother in months!"

"Liar!" Julian roared. He lunged for the bedside table, grabbing his phone and a sleek, black Glock in one fluid motion. He checked the screen, his jaw working so hard a muscle pulsed in his cheek. "The security feed from the vault. Someone accessed the ledger's digital backup ten minutes ago. Using your biometric bypass."

"That’s impossible!" Elena cried, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She reached for a silk robe discarded on the floor, her fingers trembling so violently she could barely grip the fabric. "I was here! I've been in this room with you for the last hour! How could I be in the vault?"

Another thunderous knock at the door made the wood groan. "Sir! They’re breaching the lobby! We have to move now!"

Julian turned back to her. The blue light from the storm outside washed over his bare, muscular chest, making him look like a vengeful god. He didn't look like he believed her. He looked like he was deciding whether to save her or kill her.

"If my mother has that ledger, she’ll burn the city down to hide what’s in it," Julian hissed. He grabbed her arm, his grip bruisingly tight, and hauled her toward the walk-in closet. "And if you gave it to her, I’ll make sure you’re the first thing she throws into the fire."

"Julian, you’re hurting me!"

"Move!"

He shoved her into the back of the massive closet, hitting a hidden pressure plate behind a row of his designer suits. With a hiss of hydraulics, a section of the wall slid back, revealing a narrow, dimly lit elevator.

"Get in," he commanded.

"Where are we going? The police—"

"The police aren't here to arrest me, Elena. They’re on my mother’s payroll. They’re here to collect the witness." He stepped into the small space with her, the doors sliding shut and trapping them in a suffocatingly intimate box.

The elevator began to drop, the speed making Elena’s stomach lurch. The silence was heavy, broken only by the sound of Julian’s heavy, rhythmic breathing. He was standing inches from her, the scent of their recent pleasure still clinging to him, mixed now with the metallic scent of gun oil.

Despite the terror, despite the accusation, Elena felt a traitorous throb deep in her core. Her body didn't care that he might kill her; it only cared that he was close.

"Why would she want me?" Elena whispered, looking up at his rigid profile.

Julian looked down at her, his eyes dark with a mix of fury and a hunger he couldn't quite extinguish. "Because you're the only person who can verify the signatures on those hit lists. You’re not just my wife anymore, Elena. You’re the evidence."

He reached out, his hand tangling in her disheveled hair, tilting her head back until she had to meet his gaze. "Tell me the truth. Right now. Did you make a deal with her to get your freedom?"

"No," she gasped, her eyes searching his. "I wanted to leave you, Julian. I wanted to run. But I would never go to her. I'm not suicidal."

Julian’s gaze lingered on her lips, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. For a second, the predator softened. The heat between them flared again, a dangerous, forbidden spark in the dark elevator. He leaned in, his lips ghosting against hers.

"If I find out you're lying," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin, "I won't let the police have you. I’ll keep you in a cage where only I can find you. And I'll make sure you never see the light of day again."

The elevator jolted to a halt. The doors opened into a cold, underground garage where a reinforced black SUV sat idling, its headlights cutting through the gloom.

"Sir, we’re ready," a driver called out.

Julian pushed Elena toward the car, but just as they reached the door, a hail of gunfire shattered the concrete pillar next to them.

"Down!" Julian tackled her to the floor, his heavy body shielding hers as glass and stone sprayed over them.

"Julian!" Elena screamed, her hands clutching his shoulders.

"Stay behind me!" He rolled, firing back with lethal precision. Through the smoke, Elena saw a line of tactical units moving in—but they weren't wearing police uniforms. They were wearing the crest of the Volkov family.

"It’s a setup," Julian growled, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the SUV. "My mother didn't call the police. She called the hit squad. She’s cleaning house, Elena. And we’re at the top of the list."

He threw her into the back seat and dived in after her, the driver flooring it before the door was even fully closed. Bullets dented the armored plating of the vehicle as they roared toward the exit.

Julian lunged across the seat, pinning Elena down against the leather as they swerved around a corner. He was hovering over her again, his heart thudding against her chest, the danger making the adrenaline in their veins turn into something electric.

"You wanted a divorce," Julian panted, his face inches from hers as the SUV tore through the streets of New York. "But it looks like the only way out now is in a body bag. Unless you do exactly what I say."

Elena looked up at the man she hated, the man she craved, and the man who was now her only hope for survival. "What do you want from me?"

Julian’s hand slid up her thigh, his touch searing even through the chaos. "I want your total submission, Elena. No more secrets. No more defiance. From this moment on, you belong to the monster."

Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the street ahead of them. The SUV swerved, flipping onto its side and skidding across the asphalt.

As the world spun into darkness, the last thing Elena felt was Julian’s arm wrapping around her, and the last thing she heard was a woman’s cold, melodic laugh over the car’s radio.

"Check the wreckage. If the girl is alive, bring her to the estate. If my son is alive... end him."