Chapter 21
Julian raised an eyebrow, a sly, gentlemanly smile playing at the corners of his lips. His hand gestured, and without missing a beat, his bodyguards moved into position.
“Sir,” one of them said, awaiting orders.
Julian’s gaze sharpened, turning as cold and unfeeling as the winter winds sweeping through the capital–sharp enough to freeze you to the bone.
His voice was low but deadly. “Bring him here. Beat him.”
The anger that had been simmering inside him for days was finally on the verge of boiling over. He had been holding back, but now, the floodgates opened.
The bodyguards, ever loyal, carried out their tasks with ruthless efficiency. Each blow was calculated, each strike unforgiving. The sound of fists meeting flesh filled the air.
Landon’s face quickly swelled, turning red and then purple as blood began to drip from his nose and mouth. But even through the pain, he glared at Julian, eyes burning with defiance.
The bodyguards didn’t stop until Julian raised a hand, signaling them to pause. Instantly, the room went quiet, the men standing at attention.
A sickening crack echoed in the silence–a bone breaking, probably one of Landon’s ribs.
Julian looked down at him, his gaze chilling.
“Are you satisfied now?” he asked. His voice was cold, laced with disdain.
Landon’s face was barely recognizable, swollen and bloodied, but his eyes still held the same hatred, unbroken.
Julian’s tone grew even darker as he crouched slightly, leaning in to speak directly into Landon’s ear. “Seven years. Seven children. And you… you still do this to her? You really have a heart of stone.”
His eyes narrowed, a malicious gleam in them. “Do you even know how fragile Zara’s health is? During the winter, her body is in constant pain. What if she can’t have children again? Do you really think I won’t make sure you never leave the city?”
His words were chilling, the venom in his voice unmistakable.
Julian’s foot pressed lightly against Landon’s head as if to make a point. “Today, I’m being lenient. If you don’t take at least three to five months to recover, you won’t be walking. properly for a while.”
His voice dropped to a low growl. “If I don’t teach you a lesson, you won’t even remember your own name.”
He smirked, standing up. “But this is enough for today. If you ever pull something like this again, I’ll end it for you.”
With a final, harsh glance at Landon, Julian raised his hand, signaling his bodyguards to leave.
22:10 Sat, 15 Mar A.
The tension in the air didn’t lift, but with his back turned, he walked out, leaving Landon in a crumpled heap.
Back at the estate, Julian kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket, his mood still dark.
He stepped into the living room where Zara sat, her attention fully absorbed in a soap opera on TV. She was watching some ridiculous scene with soap bubbles floating around, and it made him smile, even if just a little.
“Oh, what’s so interesting?” Julian teased, walking over. “You’re totally mesmerized by this? The guy isn’t even that handsome, Zara. Take a look at me–I’m way better looking than that man.”
Zara looked up from the screen, a frown already forming on her face as if she was about to scold him. But then she saw the tightness in his jaw, the flicker of anger still evident in his eyes. She instantly shifted, her frown softening..
With quick, light steps, she hopped off the couch, barefoot on the cool floor, and threw herself into his arms. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him in for a swift, playful kiss.
Her tone was soft and teasing, meant to calm him.
“What’s wrong, my young master?” she cooed, her voice light and affectionate. “You’re in a bad mood, huh? Want your baby to kiss you?”
She smiled up at him, a playful glint in her eye, as she settled against him.
Julian usually didn’t act this way–not so needy or looking for comfort. Zara could tell something was bothering him.
Julian’s mood didn’t lighten immediately. The warmth of her touch only seemed to make him feel more restless. He couldn’t shake the thoughts that gnawed at him, the ones that kept him up at night, wondering what Zara’s life could have been like if she hadn’t returned to Westfield.
‘What if she’d stayed with him? What if she’d spent her whole life bearing his children? Seven kids. What was the point of that?”
Zara, her face so close to his, noticed the shift in his demeanor. She pulled away slightly, looking at him with concern. He felt a heaviness in his chest.
His voice was cold, hard as steel. “If you even think about going back to him, I’ll tie you up and drag you back myself.”
Zara blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his words.
But then she gave a soft, amused “Oh,” before leaning in again with a sweet, teasing tone. “Got it. Whatever you say, I’ll listen to you.”
She had been so obedient lately, doing whatever he asked without question, whether it was taking her medicine or anything else.
