Chapter 5

5

SCARLET

I curled into myself as Cristian finally left, the elevator doors sliding shut behind him. He'd dared to kiss my forehead before he'd left my lying there, used up like a damn sex doll.

Tears burned my eyes, and a sob ripped from my throat as I pulled myself into a sitting position. My hands shook as I fumbled with my clothes, struggling to dress myself, my body aching.

Stumbling towards the stairs, I climbed them on unsteady legs. Each step felt like a mountain, my body heavy with shame and fear. As I reached the top, Julian's door opened. His eyes widened when he saw me, his face dropping.

"What happened?"

I couldn't speak. The words caught in my throat, tangled up with the sobs I was desperately trying to hold back. As Julian wrapped his strong arms around me, my resolve crumbled. I melted into his embrace, my body trembling as the floodgates opened. My tears soaked his shirt, and the familiar scent of his cologne did little to ease my pain. I clung to him like a lifeline, my fingers digging into the fabric of his clothes as if I was afraid he'd disappear if I let go. I needed someone right now, someone to help me hold it together, and despite our situation, I felt the strange closeness with him.

"Cristian," I choked out. "He... he..."

Julian's body tensed as his arms tightened around me, his voice gruff. "What did he do?"

I struggled to recount Cristian's actions through broken sobs, my voice breaking. Julian's grip on me tightened even more, his strong arms becoming a fortress around my trembling form. I felt his jaw clench against the top of my head, the tension in his body palpable. His breath came in sharp, controlled bursts, and I could sense the fury building within him. Despite everything, a small part of me found comfort in his protective embrace, anchoring me.

"That fucking idiot," he growled. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

He guided me to the bathroom, his touch gentle despite the anger radiating off him. "I'm calling Tyrone. This will be sorted."

I nodded numbly as Julian opened the bathroom door. "Can I... can I be alone?" I whispered, my thoughts becoming dark. I wanted to be on my own, the reminder that relying on anyone always bit me in the ass.

Save for Noms, she was the only person I could trust in this world.

"Of course." He hesitated. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."

As the door closed behind him, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, drawing in shallow, shaky breaths. The hot water cascaded over me, but it couldn't wash away the feeling of Cristian's hands on my skin, his words branding me as his own.

I doubted they'd do anything against their brother. They were family, after all. And what was I? Just a captive. A toy. A potential incubator. Julian and Tyrone weren't all that upset at the possibility of me being pregnant. Was this their plan to keep me? To make me their little pet forever? Their sex slave?

I closed my eyes, recalling all the good moments, the shopping trips, the meals, the comfortable relaxing times. They were warping my mind, twisting it. God, it was killing me. They'd kill me in the long run, and if I was pregnant, this was it. I was trapped, forever.

The thought of being pregnant hit me like a punch to the gut. I slid down the shower wall, hugging my knees to my chest. Maybe I needed to reconsider the morning-after pill. Or an abortion, if it came to that. The idea of carrying Cristian's child after what he'd done made me sick to my stomach.

A sob tore from my throat, echoing off the tile walls. I buried my face in my hands, letting the water mix with my tears. How had my life come to this? Trapped between three brothers, each with their own brand of cruelty and twisted affection.

Why was I so stubborn? So broken about discarding a barely flourishing life inside me? Why was I the one that Cristian had sought out that night? Was this karma for murdering Brent years ago? For allowing Lily to be murdered? Was this punishment for my weakness and sins?

I don't know how long I sat there, crying until I had nothing left. My fingers were shriveling, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I was empty, hollowed out. Lost.

I barely registered the sound of the bathroom door being pulled open, but the cool rush of air made me shudder. Julian's hands were gentle as they helped me to my feet. "Come on, pyro, let's get you out of here," he murmured.

I flinched, but Julian didn't seem to notice, or he pretended not to, as he wrapped a fluffy towel around me. I stood there, silent, as he dried me off, my mind detached from the situation, numb.

He dressed me in a soft, oversized shirt that I realized belonged to him and a pair of his boxers. It was intimate, the act of a lover, but there was nothing sexual in his movements. He was caring for me, tending to me in the aftermath of his brother's assault. It was all too much and not enough at the same time.

Once I was dressed, Julian guided me to his bed and pulled back the covers. I climbed in, feeling Kenny's warm weight as he curled up beside me. Julian gave me a soft, encouraging smile as he tucked the blankets around me.

"I'll be right back. Hot chocolate and something to eat, okay?" he said, his voice firm yet soothing. It was as if he could will me to be okay with his words.

A stark contrast to what his brother had been like, what he'd done to me.

As he left the room, I buried my face in Kenny's fur, my hand stroking his silky back as I wrestled with the chaos in my head. Julian's bed smelled like him, and for a fleeting moment, it offered a small comfort. But it was an illusion, a temporary solace in the eye of a storm that was far from over.

My gaze drifted toward the closed bathroom door, the promise of an end to my torment so close I could almost touch it. I knew the razors were in there, nestled among Julian's shaving supplies, sharp and inviting. The scissors in the first-aid kit were another option, a sure way to make the pain stop.

It would be so easy, a way to escape this twisted, fucked-up reality they'd trapped me in. No more Silvestri brothers. No more fighting, no more surviving. Just... peace.

As I lay there, contemplating the finality of such an act, the door burst open, slamming against the wall with a resounding bang. Tyrone stood there, his face a mask of rage so intense that for a moment, I feared he might strike me. But then his expression softened, the storm in his eyes giving way to a surprising tenderness.

He took a step into the room, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid he might scare me off. "Scarlet," he said softly, the sound of my name on his lips breaking through the fog of despair that had settled over me. "Are you all right?"

It was a stupid question, really. Of course I wasn't all right. But the concern in his voice was real, and it shook me out of my morbid thoughts. Tyrone, the cold, calculated brother, the one who held them all together with an iron fist, looked at me now with a vulnerability I'd never seen before. Did he know what my mind was currently contemplating?

"I... I don't… no," I whispered, the words catching in my throat. It was the honest answer, and there was no point denying it.

Tyrone approached the bed, his movements cautious as he perched on the edge, careful not to disturb Kenny and me. "I spoke with Julian," he said, his gaze fixed firmly on the blanket-covered lump that was my feet. "What Cristian did... It's unforgivable. We're dealing with it, you have my word."

His promise hung heavy in the air between us. For the first time, I saw the brotherhood that bound them fraying at the seams. Cristian's actions had consequences that reached beyond his own selfish desires. I wondered how deep those cracks truly went and what it meant for all of us if the Silvestri foundation began to crumble.

Tyrone reached out a hand as if to touch me but then thought better of it and let it fall to his side. "It'll be okay, Scarlet. Believe me, we'll take care of you, please."

The "please" struck me like a physical blow. This man was not one to beg. And yet, here he was, imploring me to let them in, to accept their help—their protection. Could I do that? Could I allow myself to depend on the very men who'd ensnared me in this web?

I watched as Tyrone sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumping. "I've tried to tell Cristian off before, but he's... not someone I have all that much influence over. But this time, I'll make sure it sticks."

His words sparked a desperate hope within me. "Make him stop," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Let me go now. Please."

Tyrone's dark eyes met mine, a strange mix of emotions swirling in their depths. "I can't," he said, his voice low and firm. "Not if you're pregnant."

Something in his gaze unsettled me, an odd glint I couldn't quite place. Before I could dwell on it, he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. The kiss was gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to Cristian's earlier assault.

"We'll figure it all out," he murmured as he pulled away. "Just relax."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "How can I possibly relax?"

"Try," he insisted. His tone softened slightly as he added, "But you're not to drink or anything until your next period."

I barked out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You're still worried about this potential child?" The irony of the situation was laughable. "What if I've changed my mind on getting rid of it if it's there?"

Tyrone's face flickered, but he quickly masked it, his features settling back into their usual stoic expression.

"Have you?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

I held his gaze, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The truth was, I didn't know. The idea of being pregnant terrified me, but the thought of ending a potential life left me feeling… hollow. I remained silent, unable to give him an answer I didn't have myself.

Julian returned then, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of cookies. He glanced between Tyrone and me, an unspoken question passing between the brothers. Julian's expression hardened, and Tyrone nodded.

"You should go, Tyrone, I'll handle this," Julian said, setting the tray down on the nightstand. His voice was low, the edge to it clear. Tyrone nodded, standing up without a word. As he left the room, he cast one last look at me over his shoulder, a silent vow to make things right.

Julian turned to me, his mask of calm firmly back in place. "Drink," he ordered gently, handing me one of the mugs. "You'll feel better."

I obeyed, sipping the hot chocolate as Julian climbed into bed beside me. With Kenny on one side and Julian on the other, I felt, for just a moment, like I was safe. But it was a moment I clung to, a shred of hope in a world turned upside down. And as Julian wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close, I let myself pretend that this was my sanctuary, a safe haven amidst the nightmare.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift off into a fitful sleep, my mind and body spent.