Chapter 32 THE HISTORY OF MONSTERS
Night settled over the mansion like a bruise; dark, heavy, and pulsing with something restless underneath.
Eli couldn’t sleep.
He lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling, until he heard footsteps downstairs. Two sets. Low voices. A clink of glass.
Julian never entertained visitors this late. He's barely had anyone over since Eli began living here.
Curiosity…it wasn’t what pushed Eli out of bed.
Fear did.
Some instinct inside him whispered follow, even though every other part of him begged to stay where he was.
He crept down the hallway and stopped near the open crack of Julian’s office door.
Inside, Julian sat in his usual armchair, posture relaxed but coiled, like a lion pretending to nap. Across from him sat a man Eli recognized from his visit to Julian's office.
Anton.
The room smelled faintly of whiskey and cigarettes.
Eli stiffened when he realized what he was doing.
He shouldn’t be listening.
Julian would kill him if he knew.
But Julian’s voice drifted out, low and tired, and Eli held his breath.
“He showed up today,” Julian said.
Anton leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “Henry Winslow? I heard whispers. Is it true?”
Julian’s jaw flexed. “Yes. The bastard crawled out of whatever hole he’s been hiding in.”
A thick, bitter silence followed.
Anton twirled the rim of his glass. “You’ve waited for this.”
Julian didn’t answer at first. He didn’t need to, his cold expression was enough.
Finally, he said, “I waited my whole life.”
Eli’s pulse stumbled.
His father.
Julian talking about his father.
He pressed closer to the doorframe, careful not to make a sound.
Julian continued, voice dropping:
“He took everything from me.”
Anton hummed. “I know… but remind me how it started. For old time’s sake. I always knew you resented him because you never fail to mention it, but I never asked what he's done to you.”
Julian’s eyes darkened.
He looked like a man walking back into a nightmare on purpose.
“He kidnapped me,” Julian said.
Eli felt the words hit him physically.
“I was nine. He was charming back then… everyone thought he was just another businessman in the circle. My father trusted him. I trusted him.”
Julian lifted his whiskey, staring into it as though it held ghosts.
“He took me. Held me hostage for three days. Sent my father pieces of my clothes, pictures of me tied to a chair, bruised, beaten; just to lure my father into his trap.”
Anton’s gaze sharpened with understanding. “And when your father came…”
Julian’s voice hardened into dead steel.
“Henry killed him.”
Eli’s stomach dropped so violently he had to press a hand to his mouth to stop the sound rising in his throat.
Julian went on, his tone disturbingly calm:
“He shot him in the head. Right in front of me. Then he looted everything… territories, vaults, offshore accounts, properties. He robbed my family like he was gutting a corpse. And then he disappeared.”
Anton nodded slowly. “I knew about the looting. It took you years to rebuild.”
“Years,” Julian agreed. “By the time I restored what he stole, he was gone. Faked his death. Ran. Hid like a coward.”
He swirled the liquid in his glass.
“But he came back… because of the boy.”
Eli’s breath seized.
Anton raised a brow. “And you’re certain baiting Eli dragged Henry out of the dark?”
Julian smirked slightly. “He showed his face, didn’t he? Took one look at me with his son beside me and nearly choked on his pride.”
Anton gave a low whistle. “He must be furious.”
“He’s scared,” Julian corrected. “He knows it’s his turn now.”
Eli felt cold.
Everything Julian had done— the debt trap, the forced marriage, pulling him into this world— it was all because of his father. He used Eli deliberately, calculatingly, like a spotlight on an old wound.
Julian continued.
“And he won’t be easy. Henry is a monster. A loud one. A proud one. I had to become a worse monster just to get near him.”
Anton smirked. “You succeeded.”
Julian’s lips twitched in something that wasn’t humor.
“And the boy?” Anton asked casually. Too casually.
Eli’s heart stopped.
Julian didn’t immediately answer. He only refilled his glass.
Anton leaned forward. “Would you keep your promise? And hand him back to me when you’re done?”
Eli’s blood ran ice cold.
Hand him back?
Back?
Julian finally looked at Anton with mild irritation.
“I’m married to him,” he said. “You won’t be having him back.”
Anton’s tone sharpened. “That wasn’t the deal.”
Julian’s shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “Deals change.”
Anton’s expression darkened. “I had my eyes on him first. I stalked him first. I offered him to you because you promised me you’d return him.”
Eli’s breath caught painfully.
Stalked.
Stalked?
Julian chuckled. “I remember. And ideally, I should give him back when I’m done. But he’s… interesting.”
Eli’s chest tightened.
“He acts tough,” Julian said, taking a slow sip of whiskey, “but he cries over everything. He’s a fun toy. I don’t think I’ll be giving him back.”
Eli’s knees nearly buckled.
Toy.
Fun.
Something to pass around.
A lump built in his throat, one he couldn’t swallow.
Anton laughed quietly. “I knew it would come to this. You find him entertaining, Julian. That’s all.”
Julian smirked. “Don’t pretend you don’t.”
Anton shrugged. “True. The boy’s fascinating. That’s why I was stalking him. He was the only hobby I had. I like the boy. You? You don’t like him. You just enjoy the contrast; he adds color to your gloomy canvas.”
Julian rolled his eyes. “Don’t bring your poetic crap in here.”
Anton laughed.
Julian leaned back, rubbing his jaw. “Fine. I’ll return him, eventually. Probably. I’ll get bored before this ends. Then you can have your turn.”
Eli shut his eyes, body shaking.
He wasn’t even a person to them.
“Of course,” Julian added lightly, “that’s if Desmond and the other snakes don’t snatch him first. So protect your toy, Anton.”
Anton lifted his glass, eyes glinting.
“He’s protected,” Anton said. “Desmond can play his little games but he knows the line. All of them do. None of us want to go from chasing Henry Winslow to chasing each other.”
He clicked his glass against Julian’s.
“They are all chasing Henry for the honour of getting to take the credit for taking Henry down.”
Then softer, “You want him for revenge. For hunger. For the wound he carved into you.”
Julian’s gaze sharpened with something dark and violent.
Anton’s voice gentled, just barely.
“And I’m on your side. We grew up together. Your pain is my pain. Your enemy is my enemy too.”
Whiskey poured. Glasses clinked.
Monsters toasted to destruction.
Eli stepped away from the door as quietly as he could, chest hollow, stomach twisting. Every word he heard lodged into him like splinters.
Julian wasn’t just angry.
Eli wasn’t just bait.
Anton wasn’t just a subordinate.
They were planning a bad fight.
And Eli…
Eli was nothing but the match they intended to strike.