8. Julian

"You fucking fairy! No son of mine?—"

Charleston"s voice booms through my nightmares as memories meld with dreams to remind my body of everything he"s put it through. My breathing is shallow as I toss and turn in the bedroom my family imploded. There"s no amount of remodeling to shield me from knowing how it sounds to have my face smashing against the wall. The blinding flashes of reds and whites with every blow my heavy-handed father deals onto my teenage frame.

My fear and pain of the past jolts me awake mere minutes before my alarm. Sweat drenches my bedding and I"m annoyed at myself for allowing him to disrupt my sleep. We"d left our violence on the floor of this room over two decades ago where I made sure Charleston never struck me again, and my friends kept the remaining Blackwell men out of prison.

With my history haunting my waking moments, I don"t want to run into Claire. There"s a risk of me lashing out and I decide the best thing for me is to head into work. I can go over Fiona"s work to ensure she"s back to following orders. After texting Edward to meet me in the garage, I"m not surprised to find him ready to go. His nightmares keep him awake more nights than my own.

In a way I"m lucky. The shit I went through with Charleston only happened over a four-to-five-year period. Edward? His trauma began from the day he was born.

"Long night?" Edward"s voice is low as we get into the large SUV.

From the back seat, I glance at him before turning to look out the window. "Too long."

"I can feel it." Edward"s solemn words tell me enough. We"ve been friends for a long time and can sense when the other is having an off day. Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror, "Should I call her?"

"Who?" I ask him.

"Malia." Edward"s eyes dart away from mine to refocus on the road.

Shit. I run my fingers through my hair. "Wow, you pulled that card? Do I look that bad?"

He snorts. "You look like Claire"s driving you crazy and could use some release. How long has it been?"

"Since my release?" I ask him with a twisted grin.

"Fuck no. Since you"ve seen her."

"I don"t remember. Can she still be reached at the same number?" I ask him.

He nods slowly. "Saw her last week. She asks about you."

"What do you tell her?"

"That work keeps you busy."

I chuckle. "She knows that"s bull."

"She does. I was told to tell you to bring in the woman keeping you out of her dungeon."

"For fuck"s sake. That"s one hell of a way to get Claire out of my life for good. What the hell, Edward?"

He shrugs. "I don"t judge. You spend all this time and money to protect Claire. The way she looks at you, the way you fight it; hard to ignore the tension between you two."

"I never wanted this to happen. I just wanted to keep her safe because of what Derek did for me. I feel like a dick falling for her."

Edward has his own warped views of the world. His honesty is sharper than any blade as he says, "Again, I"m not judging you, or Claire for that matter. If you keep burying pieces of yourself, the only person guaranteed to hurt her, is you. You"re a ticking time bomb. You can"t hide that side from her or anyone you decide to be with. It"s bad for you, makes you look like what you do right now."

"What do I look like right now?"

"Miserable," he says with finality. That"s as much as I"ll hear from Edward on the subject as we make our way downtown for me to start my workday hours before everyone else at Nuvola.

I keep my head down, sorting through documents to continue my corporate warfare against Carmine Scarpella. Eventually, I put my night terrors and Edward"s suggestion to visit our therapeutic Dominatrix out of my head. It"s only when I notice the hustle and bustle of employees filing into their cubicles that I"m aware the workday is officially under way.

Claire breezes in, not surprised at all to see me already behind my desk. There"s an unexpected lightness to her demeanor as she goes through our normal routine like our disagreement from last night means nothing. Misery has me by the throat as she practically floats in royal blue high heels. They complement her grey eyes but are barely able to distract me from the form fitting black dress hugging her slender frame.

Curiosity gets the better of me, turning me into a temporary masochist. I hit the intercom button on the phone. "Claire, I need you."

Fuck, Edward might be right. A visit to Malia can scratch this itch, but I don"t want anyone else. I"d much rather Claire delivers the pain I need to make me feel an ounce of normalcy.

It takes her less than a minute to bounce through my door. My eyes take in the sight of her like I"m never going to see her again. I don"t want to push her away, but I can"t stop myself from picking a fight.

"Yes, Julian?" she asks, her smile beaming from ear to ear.

"You were late this morning," I tell her. I know I"m picking a fight, but something inside of me wants to be the only reason she smiles that wide.

"I was seven minutes late, yes," she admits with a slight nod. "You have my apologies. It won"t happen again."

"Close the door, please." I point my chin at the door and continue, "Why were you late?"

Claire closes the door and steps closer to the desk. "I made plans for dinner and I wanted to change so I wouldn"t waste time when I got home. Is there something you needed, Mr. Blackwell?"

Something about the way my name comes off her lips angers me. "Where are you going?"

"Out. You have a ten o"clock meeting in an hour. Would you like me to print out anything? I can have Fiona come in if you want to go over your presentation."

"What"s this game you"re playing?" I ask her.

"I"m not playing any games, Mr. Blackwell. I"m simply doing my job. The job you hired me to do." She smirks and rounds the desk, leaning against it. When she crosses her arms just under her tits, it accentuates her cleavage.

"I need to know that you"re safe, Claire. Address and phone number to where you"re going tonight. Now," I demand.

"Julian, you have my phone number, which I"m certain has a GPS locator that pings you everywhere I go. I also have Bonnie escorting me as we agreed. You remember her, right? My bodyguard? So, I"m as safe as I always am."

"Wait a minute. You just said as we agreed. It"s a date?" I ask her. Rage pushes me over the edge. I cage her between my arms, planting my hands on the desk. I"m so close. If I kiss her, I"d smudge the lipstick making her mouth glisten. That"s when I notice it, the lightest shade of makeup. Fuck, she is going out on a date.

"Julian, I have work to do. There are files I need to pull for your eleven o"clock, and I have to confirm the valet team with Edward for this birthday party that"s not really a birthday party. Once I confirm the team, I have to grab the files to have the drivers on that team vetted. Is there anything else that I can do for you, Mr. Blackwell?"

"Don"t do that. You"re pissing me off."

"Julian, I have work to do. You can"t hold me hostage in your office," she says. "This is going to look inappropriate if anyone walks in."

She tosses a glance over her shoulder which gets me to back away from her. I want to do everything I"m not supposed to. The idea of spinning her around, bending her over and paddling her tight little ass until it"s red makes my dick hard. However, my anger and logic overrule my primitive urges.

After taking a deep inhale of her scent, I back away from her.

"Cancel them all," I tell her.

The way her brows scrunch together tells me that I can be just as unpredictable.

"Cancel what exactly?" she asks.

"All my appointments for the day," I tell her.

"Oh, are we going to do something else?"

I shake my head. "No. We aren"t doing anything. You"re going to stay here and finish every task on your list. I"ll send more to the tablet after I get out of here. I"m leaving for the day. Cancel my meetings and move them to next week."

She scoffs. "So, you"re planning to saddle me with so much work that I have to stay late and cancel my date?"

"Actually, I wasn"t but that"s not a bad idea. I mean, when did all of this magically happen? Maybe you"ve been playing me this entire time to get me to loosen the reins. Try to get in my head until I can"t take it. Force me to push you away."

"Julian." There"s a look of betrayal in her eyes as if my words hurt her. Her confidence melts away as she begins to plead with me. "Julian please, that"s not it at all. I only want to be with you. I only want to date you, but you told me that—you pushed me away."

She"s right.

"I"m sorry, Claire. You"re right. Just clear my schedule. Don"t worry about anything other than the assignments you have for the day. Anything I send over can be taken care of tomorrow. You can go."

I make a call down to security as Claire walks away from me; her silence louder than her slamming the door after she leaves. This is why I don"t want to get involved with her. I"m a piece of shit that can"t have her, but I don"t want anyone else to have her either. I can"t be here all day, watching her walk around in that black dress, teasing me, tempting me. It"s an HR nightmare waiting to happen.

While a part of me knows Claire won"t do anything to get me in trouble, I have no idea how my other employees will interpret sounds of her purring my name as I eat her pussy in my office. By the time I get to the garage, Edward"s standing there with an eyebrow raised.

"Heading out, Boss?" he asks.

"Yeah. I don"t want to be cooped up in the office all day. Find out who Claire"s going out with tonight."

"Devon Shaughnessy," he replies almost immediately.

I stop as we walk toward the SUV. "Who the fuck is that?"

My mind runs down a list of names of prominent families. The only Shaughnessy family I know is Irish mob. I doubt that"s who she"s going out with.

Edward chuckles. "Bonnie told me on their way to the office this morning. He"s going to pick her up at the house at six. Bonnie will be with them wherever they go to chaperone. She"s eighteen, Julian. The girl"s got puppy dog eyes for you every time you walk in a room."

We get in the car for him to drive us home.

"I don"t want her dating some loser. Who is this guy? Where did she meet him? She"s supposed to get their info to you. They need to be vetted for safety precautions, you know?"

Edward laughs loudly this time. "Stop it, man. Don"t forget that I fucking know you, too. I know the both of you pretty fucking well. Devon"s already been vetted. He works for Trigger Lawn Care."

"No, not happening."

"What"s not happening?"

I shake my head and slam my fist against the door. "She"s not dating some sleazebag pushing a lawnmower."

"Ay! Don"t you dare turn your nose up like your money all of a sudden makes you better than those guys."

I sigh. "You know I didn"t mean it like that, Edward. He"s the sleazebag. It doesn"t matter if he"s pushing a lawnmower or a Bentley. You gotta be talking about that kid who works for Bryan, right?"

"Yeah," he replies, still on edge.

Edward Oliver Vagan is my best friend and the reason Derek Anderson and I became friends. My parents got divorced. Despite what my mother believes, I didn"t choose to stay with Charleston Blackwell. I didn"t have a choice, so I took out my frustration on everyone and anything I could get my hands on.

When there wasn"t a boarding school that could control me, Charleston Blackwell tried beating obedience into me before he resorted to sending me to public school. Oddly enough, his kid being in public school cinched his nomination to the California State Supreme Court bench. If only the political elite knew the damage Charleston inflicted on the people he claimed to love the most.

After school, I"d run errands for my uncle. I think my father thought running errands for a mob enforcer would scare me straight, but it only hardened my resolve to become a better, wealthier man than he"d ever be. I found my true friends at that school. Along the way, my Dad got us out of jams while Edward and Derek kept my face and body protected until I learned to defend myself.

It was a weird time for the Blackwell family. Violence, camaraderie; an eye for an eye alongside "I"ll scratch your back if you scratch mine." My father and I went tit for tat between love, hatred, and destruction, until it bubbled into one fateful night. The night that still delivers nightmares when I least expect it.

Between Derek, Edward, and my Uncle Armande, I toughened up enough to be a menace in the street and the boardroom. We had plans. Edward runs my security detail and Derek was supposed to run my finances. I hate that Carmine Scarpella is the man behind the criminals who killed my friend, Claire"s father.

Claire. I can"t believe she"s dating.

"We just had the conversation last night. I had no idea she had her eye on the guy. I should have him fired," I mumble to myself.

"Don"t," Edward sighs. "Telling an eighteen-year-old not to do something is the fire that pushes them to do the exact opposite. Let her date the kid. If he tries anything funny, we"ll have him take a tour of the bedrock holding up the bridge."

That gets a laugh out of me. "Nothing like plotting the murder of the guy trying to date my?—"

"Your what?" Edward smirks. He knows what she means to me, and still, he"s the only person I trust with the truth. Even if I can"t say it out loud.

"Nothing. Look, let"s head out to the bluff. I want to talk to Armande. I need to get my mind off my Claire going out with some boy." I groan at my own words.

Edward chuckles. Still, I can"t shake the fact that what I said annoyed him.

"You know I don"t think like that, right?" I ask him after a while of us driving toward a gated community overlooking the bay.

"I know," he says. "Listen, I know you. You know me, too. Shit just triggered something in me. Your mother has a way with words and the way you said that shit about the mower sleazebag, just reminded me of the way she used to talk to us when we first started coming around."

"I know. Bianca Marzano has been ruthless since the day she was born. It takes a special kind of woman to put someone like my father in his place. The crazy part about my folks is that it took fucking murder for her to leave. Honestly, I think if Charleston hadn"t killed that woman in our house, she would have stayed."

Edward nods. "You"re probably right. She hates crimes of passion."

I laugh and shake my head, knowing that he"s right. My mother is as methodical as I am when it comes to business. Everything has to have a reason, a purpose. If it doesn"t help you achieve a goal, then you don"t waste energy on it.

When we pull up to a large iron gate with a security guard in the booth, we"re let in as soon as the guard calls up to my mother"s place. I"m hoping she"s not home, but since it"s her house…

Wait, technically, it"s my uncle"s place, but it"s in my mother"s name. It"s a way of life for the Marzano family.

The house is gorgeous. All white with reflective windows so no one can photograph or record videos of the place. No one gets in or out without being personally cleared by my mother and her security people. A trait I picked up from her, no doubt.

As we pull up to the mansion on a cliff overlooking the bay, my uncle comes out of the house with a cigar in his mouth and sunglasses over his eyes. He opens his arms wide as he welcomes us.

"Are those my favorite errand boys? Come on in fellas. I got steaks going on the grill." Armande"s smile is infectious.

I look at my watch. "Zio, it"s barely ten in the morning. You"re going to give yourself a heart attack eating steak for breakfast."

"You sound like your mother," he says, waving his hand as we walk inside.

Sure enough, the scent of beef cooking over a fire wafts through the home. The entryway opens into a living room that has clear sight through the kitchen and out to the backyard.

"Is she around?" I ask him. Edward and I both glance around, listening out for my mother like we"re two kids cutting school.

Armande laughs. "No, she"s not. She"s out doing what she does best."

"Shopping?" I ask with a laugh.

"No, organizing. Something about that party you got going. You boys gonna eat or what?" he asks.

"I can eat." Edward grins, taking a seat at the massive kitchen island.

"Good. There"s plenty. You know, Julian, I got to apologize to you for the other day. I shouldn"t have come to your office like that," Armande tells us as he sits down across from Edward. His Consigliere, Vinnie, is on the back deck, tending to the steaks.

I lean against the wall beside the door, letting the cool ocean breeze take my mind away from obsessing over Claire. My words are low. "It"s fine. It let me put Fiona in her place. She was getting too mouthy for my liking anyhow. Besides, you probably saved her life by telling me what you did."

Armande nods. "Nice. My good deed for the year. The other thing I wanted to talk to you about was the stuff going on with Scarpella. I think you were right about going after him. We should cut him off at the knees."

"Oh yeah? Why the sudden change of heart?" I ask him.

Armande puffs on his cigar. "He"s started up that carjacking ring again. They"re not just taking cars. They"re knocking tourists over the head, busting windows and stealing anything not bolted to the frame. His stupid fucking punks got the police trigger happy and looking to make an example out of anyone they get their hands on. It"s too hot to move any product in the city which is hindering business. Slow business means slow money. Who the fuck has time for slow money?"

"No one," Edward replies as Vinnie brings in a plate full of steaks fresh off the grill.

"Hey, boys!" Vinnie smiles. "Nice to see you. Grab a plate. They"re all medium or medium rare. I"ll grab some vino, and we can throw some eggs on the stove if you want."

"The steaks are good enough. Thanks, Vin," I tell him. Edward already has a plate and fork and is sliding one of the steaks off the pile. I focus on my uncle, "So, you want me to move on Scarpella?"

"Do what you do best, Julian," Armande tells me. "When you"re done with him, I"m gonna gut him like a fish. It"s time to end this feud between the families once and for all."