Page 11 of Goldsin

I can’t believe there was ever a time where I thought—no, I wascertain—we could be happy together. That illusion was shattered when I realized how deeply rooted his family’s illegal activities really were.

I’ve always known the Harrows have secrets—any powerful, wealthy family has them—but I never knew they were this twisted and disturbing. My mother’s diary didn’t just contain her pain and suffering; it gave me aninside look at what being part of the Inferno Consortium really means.

I learned the truth a few months before breaking up with Adrian. Somehow, I’d convinced myself staying with him would keep me safe, never make me a suspect, as I used him to get the information I needed to form my plan. But in the end, all it did was suffocate me.

Our relationship was more about power and control than real love.

Adrian never seemed like a controlling type. At least, he didn’t give me that impression before we started dating.

He decided what I should wear, gifting me most of what makes up my wardrobe today. He also liked to tell me how to act before any event we attended together.

Dinner parties and business events were for me to act innocent and indifferent. I could never let my eyes roam around the place, instructed to only ever look at the person talking to me in the moment. I had to keep quiet and ... act like I wasn’t there.

Friends’ parties were the only places I could be myself—on the understanding I couldn’t be the center of attention.

And I was never allowed to attend Adrian’s house parties. Which I didn’t really mind, since I didn’t want to run into Julian.

In the beginning of our relationship I wasn’t too bothered by any of this. I loved the attention Adrian was giving me—even if it was toxic. Because I’d gone from spending most of my time with Julian to becoming invisible,I craved Adrian’s attention. It made me feel important.

Until it didn’t anymore, so I broke things off with him weeks ago.

Yet Adrian still haunts my thoughts. Still suffocates me.

Pressing my back further into the wall, I close my eyes, seeking the cold to steady my racing mind.

My breaths come in short gasps as I try to regain control of my emotions.

Breathe in and out. In and?—

The scent of Julian’s cologne, a mixture of cedarwood and something indescribable, drifts past me, tickling my nostrils. Clouding my judgment.

I miss the way he smells.

The sound of his footsteps comes next, and I snap my eyes to the side. His menacing gaze pierces me in place as he prowls toward me.

When was the last time Julian Harrow looked my way? No. When was the last time Julian Harrow washeading my way?

Panic thrums in my chest, each beat heavy on my heart, before freezing it in agony. His presence has always invoked such an effect.

Call it instinct, but his good looks won’t take me for a fool.

Again.

“Looking a bit flustered there. That’s unlike you,” he drawls.

Taming the shadows like it’s child’s play, Julian stands out in the darkness. As if he holds power at hisfingertips, the lack of light doesn’t devour him whole. Instead it amplifies his presence, accentuating every line of his sturdy frame.

His white shirtsleeves are rolled halfway up his arms. Ink swirls on his arms too, up to his neck, as if he’s made of the very essence of darkness. The sharpness of his jaw calls attention to his perfectly kissable lips before his piercing, ghostly blue eyes draw me in.

Every inch of him screams power and control, and it unnerves me more than I’d care to admit.

His steps are deliberate and calculated, as if he’s on a mission. I press my body closer to the wall, bracing myself for whatever this daredevil, the prince of the Inferno Consortium, has in mind.

“Julian ... what do you want?”

He arches his brow, assessing the rise and fall of my chest before trailing his eyes down my curves. The action heats my skin.

Oh, help!

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