Chapter 72 THE DEN
The elevator doors opened on the ground floor with a soft chime.
Julian stepped out. His face was calm. Too calm for the anger surfing through his mind.
The waiting area was quiet, filled with the soft hum of hospital air-conditioning and distant footsteps. Anton and Lovia were seated side by side on the gray chairs.
Lovia saw Julian immediately.
She stood up fast, smoothing her dress, arranging her face into concern.
She walked toward him with a soft smile.
“How is he?” she asked gently. “Is Eli okay?”
Her voice carried exaggerated worry.
Julian looked at her.
His eyes were unreadable.
He did not answer her question.
“My driver will take you back to the house,” he said flatly. “I have somewhere to be.”
Lovia blinked. “Somewhere to be? But—”
He had already turned away.
He looked at Anton instead.
“Come on,” Julian said. “You’re driving me.”
Anton stood up slowly.
Lovia frowned slightly. “Julian, I was asking about Eli—”
“My driver,” Julian repeated without looking at her, “will take you home.”
That was the end of it.
Anton walked past her.
Julian walked toward the exit.
Lovia remained standing there, her smile frozen and useless.
Outside, the air was cooler.
Anton unlocked his car, they both got in, the doors shut, and the engine started.
Anton pulled away from the hospital parking lot.
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke.
Julian leaned back in the passenger seat, eyes forward.
His jaw was tight.
Anton glanced at him. “Where to?”
Julian gave him a knowing look. “To the den.”
Anton’s brows lifted slightly.
“Ah,” he said. “So that’s the mood.”
Julian didn’t respond.
The drive was quiet after that.
The city shifted around them as they moved farther from the polished glass buildings and into the busier parts of town.
They stopped in front of a massive plaza.
It looked normal; alive and crowded.
Families walked in and out. Street vendors called out prices. Bright signs blinked over different shops.
There were restaurants on one side, a beauty salon with pink lights, a mini mart stacked with groceries, gadget stores filled with phones and accessories. Music spilled out from different corners. The smell of fried food mixed with perfume and dust.
A public marketplace. Loud and very ordinary.
No one looking at it would imagine what lived beneath it.
Anton parked in the underground lot.
They stepped out.
Julian adjusted his cuffs. His face had turned colder.
They walked through the plaza like regular businessmen.
People moved around them without paying attention.
They entered one of the ground floor spaces — a storage room behind a small gadget store.
Inside, shelves were stacked with boxes.
Anton closed the door behind them.
Julian walked toward the far wall.
He pressed his palm against a certain spot.
There was a soft mechanical click.
Part of the wall shifted, and a hidden door slid open. Behind it was a private elevator.
No music, no noise. Just steel walls and silence.
They stepped inside, and the door closed.
The elevator moved down.
When it opened, the world changed.
The underground was nothing like the plaza above.
It was wide. Polished concrete floors, dark walls, cold lighting, security cameras in every corner.
Men everywhere. Armed and alert.
The moment Julian stepped out, movement rippled through the hall.
Men lined up instantly.
Two long lines formed on both sides of the corridor.
Heads bowed.
No one spoke.
Julian walked down the center without slowing.
Anton followed one step behind him.
Boots echoed against the floor.
The men remained still until Julian passed them.
At the end of the corridor was a large double door.
It opened before Julian reached it.
Inside was a massive room.
In the center stood a boxing ring.
Bright lights hung overhead.
Training equipment filled the corners — punching bags, weights, benches.
The air smelled like sweat and metal.
Julian stopped near the ring.
Anton walked in after him.
The doors closed behind them.
The silence in the room felt heavy.
Anton glanced at the ring, then at Julian.
A slow chuckle escaped him.
“You want to fight?” he asked.
Julian loosened his tie. His voice was calm. “I want to try beating life out of you.”
Anton laughed under his breath. “Ah. So it’s that bad.”
Two men appeared immediately.
They moved efficiently.
One removed Julian’s suit jacket.
The other held out his hands for the cufflinks.
Julian didn’t say a word. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly.
The men took it off him once it was loose.
His expression remained cold.
Anton shook his head as he started removing his own jacket.
“You know,” Anton said lightly, “normal people drink or smoke when they’re stressed.”
Julian’s eyes flicked to him. “Get on the ring, Anton.”
Anton pulled his shirt over his head.
The men handed both of them black training shorts.
They changed without hesitation.
The air felt heavier now.
Anton looked at him carefully.
“Are you serious?” Anton asked.
Julian stepped toward the ring.
“Get on the fucking ring, Anton,” he said quietly. “Unless you prefer us beating each other with baseball bats.”
Anton smirked slightly. “Tempting.”
They climbed into the ring.
The ropes creaked under their weight.
Two men stepped forward and strapped boxing gloves onto Julian’s hands.
Another did the same for Anton.
Anton flexed his fingers inside the gloves.
“You’re out of your mind again,” he said.
Julian rolled his shoulders once.
“Yes,” he replied calmly. “That’s why I plan on beating you out of yours.”
Anton studied him.
“This about Eli?” he asked.
Julian’s eyes hardened.
“Don’t,” Julian warned.
Anton tilted his head. “What about him falling from a flight of stairs? You don't wanna talk about that too? You believe it was an accident?”
Julian stepped closer.
The space between them shrank.
“I said don’t.”
Anton exhaled slowly.
“So this is guilt?” Anton pressed. “Or anger?”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
The bell hadn’t even rung yet, but the air felt like it would snap.
“Why are you all bloated with anger?” Anton continued. “You’re letting that woman circle him. You’re letting your mother circle him. And now he’s in a hospital bed. How protective of you.”
Julian’s voice dropped dangerously low.
“Careful.”
Anton shrugged slightly. “He said she pushed him.”
Julian’s gloves clenched.
“You weren’t there,” Julian said.
“And you were?” Anton shot back.
The room went silent.
Even the men around the ring stopped moving.
Julian took one step back.
Then another.
He raised his fists.
“Fight,” he said coldly.
Anton sighed once.
Then he raised his gloves too.
“Fine,” Anton replied. “But don’t cry when I hit you back.”
Julian’s eyes darkened.
“Try.”
And the tension between them snapped tight, ready to explode.