Chapter 43 HENRY'S FIRST MESSAGE
(Eli’s POV)
It’s been a couple of days since the barbecue night, and honestly… things have been weirdly calm.
Or as calm as life can get when you live with a billionaire who treats revenge like oxygen and a terrifyingly charming man who somehow slipped into your daily life like sunlight leaking through curtains.
Julian has been… gentle.
Not soft, not exactly, but he hasn’t dragged me to any degrading public shows. No more dressing me up like a broken doll for cameras to dissect. No barking orders the second I sit wrong or breathe wrong or blink too slowly.
He wakes up earlier than me, leaves earlier, comes home late, and keeps his voice level around me.
I don’t know why.
Maybe he’s tired.
Maybe he’s plotting.
Maybe both.
And Anton…
God. Somehow Anton has become a constant presence, like a well-meaning ghost who cooks.
The guy really isn’t that bad.
He makes sure everyone eats before they collapse.
He forces me to drink water.
He drags Julian away from work to breathe for ten seconds.
He throws jokes like grenades that make my shoulders unclench.
He even laughs in this house; which is something Julian has never really done since I met him.
Honestly, it almost feels… safe.
Like a calm before a storm I can’t see yet.
I should have known it wouldn’t last.
Because the storm came anyway.
And it found me first…
I was lying on the living room couch, scrolling aimlessly through my phone while some random cooking show played in the background. Anton had forced breakfast into me earlier; two fried eggs, half a sausage, and a piece of toast he threatened to “shove down my throat like a Roman emperor feeding a beloved concubine.”
He used those exact words.
Julian glared for an hour.
I nearly died laughing.
Everything felt normal. Or whatever “normal” means around here.
Then my phone buzzed.
Just one vibration.
A WhatsApp notification from an unknown number.
I frowned, thumb hesitating. Probably some spammer. Maybe an old class group chat resurrecting like a zombie.
But then I read the message preview.
“For Eli.”
My stomach dropped.
I tapped it open.
There was a video.
And a text beneath it.
No profile picture, no contact name. Just a black circle.
A cold prickle climbed slowly up my spine, like realizing there’s someone breathing behind you.
I clicked the video.
The screen flickered.
Static.
Nighttime.
A shaky camera.
A man — no, someone — followed a figure at a distance.
My eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of the grainy footage.
A streetlight flashed, illuminating the person being watched. And I froze…
It was Mateo.
My old classmate and a friend I couldn't maintain friendship with because my life was as messy as any poor person's is. We hadn’t talked months, but… I recognized him instantly.
He was laughing with a friend.
Entering a grocery store.
Leaving.
Walking home.
All of it shot from behind bushes, across parking lots, through reflections in windows.
Someone had been stalking him.
Because of me.
The video cuts to a final scene.
Mateo walking toward a bus stop.
A van rolled up, the door slid open. Hands dragged him inside.
He screamed… and the screen went black.
My breath shattered in my chest.
I didn’t even realize tears were sliding down my face until one dropped onto my phone.
My hands shook violently.
I dropped the phone onto my lap.
Just then, the message under the video glowed up at me:
“Your involvement with Julian could hurt people around you.
This is a war between men.
You’re collateral.
Leave Julian before you die for nothing.”
For a long moment, I couldn’t breathe.
All I saw was Mateo’s screaming face.
All I heard was the van door slamming shut.
All I felt was cold; a deep, marrow-deep cold.
I didn’t even hear Julian enter until the phone was snatched out of my hands.
“What is this?” he demanded.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it shook the air.
I curled in on myself, arms wrapping around my stomach as if I could hold my insides together.
He watched the video in silence.
No anger yet.
No reaction.
Just stillness that scared me worse than rage.
Then he inhaled sharply.
“That bastard.”
His voice dropped into something dark, and lethal.
I flinched.
Because a thought had crept into my head; an ugly, uninvited, traitorous thought.
Did Julian do this?
He’s capable of it.
He’s done worse.
He’s had people followed before.
He’s used fear as a tool.
He is ruthless enough.
My voice cracked.
“Julian… be honest with me. Was this you?”
His head snapped toward me, eyes thunderous.
“No.”
The word struck like a blade.
“This is Henry’s handwriting,” he said. “The stalking. The abduction. The message. That's his signature move.”
His jaw clenched so hard I thought it might break.
“He’s not trying to hurt you. He’s trying to use you to hurt me.”
That didn’t make it better.
“He took my friend,” I whispered. “Because of me.”
“Because of me,” Julian corrected, voice flat, controlled.
“He wants to scare you. He wants to push you into fighting me, questioning me, doubting me.”
I did doubt him.
And he saw it.
His expression softened…barely, like a crack in cold marble.
“I swear to you,” he said slowly, “I didn’t touch your friend. This is not my method.”
I hugged myself tighter.
“And you’ll… you’ll free him?”
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“I’ll find him. And I’ll kill every single person Henry sent after him.”
That wasn’t comforting.
Not at all.
My chest tightened, breath hitching again, vision blurring.
I didn’t even sense Anton until he knelt beside me, hand resting lightly on my shoulder.
“Hey,” he murmured, voice soft, gentle in a way he rarely used. “Eli. Look at me.”
I did.
And something in my lungs loosened.
“You’re safe,” Anton said. “You’re not alone. And nobody is getting hurt because of you. None of this is your fault, and your friend will be freed unharmed.”
His hand moved to my back, slow circles, grounding me.
Julian paced like a trapped storm, jaw rigid, fingers twitching like he wanted to break something… or someone.
But Anton just kept holding me steady.
“You’re not responsible for this,” he told me. “Henry is. Henry alone.”
My breathing sputtered.
“I—If I wasn’t here—”
Anton cut me off.
“If you weren’t here, Henry would’ve found some other excuse to start this war. Men like him don’t need reasons.”
I swallowed painfully.
Anton glanced at Julian with a look that said fix this.
Julian stared at me, agony buried deep behind anger.
“I’ll rescue your friend,” Julian said quietly. “I promise you that.”
And… I believed him.
Not because Julian is good.
But because he is terrifying.
And when he swears something, he'd probably make the world bend to fulfill it. I mean, he married me to bait my father, that's dedication.
Anton kept his arm around me until my breathing steadied.
And all I could think was:
Anton really isn’t that bad.
Maybe he’s the only reason both me and Julian aren't falling apart yet.