Chapter 96
Evelyn's POV
"I'm observing that being righteous is significantly more complicated than being practical." I met Julian's gaze, letting a hint of a smile show. "It's very inconvenient, this whole 'legitimate business' thing you've got going. In my world, we identified a threat and eliminated it. Simple. Clean. No lawyers required."
"In your world, you also had to complete thirty kills to earn your freedom and spent years looking over your shoulder waiting for your own organization to betray you." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that's the model we should be following."
"Fair point." I squeezed his hand. "I suppose your way has its merits. Even if it does require an excessive amount of patience and paperwork."
"Welcome to the civilized world, Prizrak." His smile was soft despite the sarcasm. "Where we solve problems with evidence and legal proceedings instead of bullets and unmarked graves."
"How very boring of you."
"And yet you're still here."
"And yet I'm still here," I agreed, and felt something warm settle in my chest at the truth of it.
He was right—his way was harder, more complicated, required more patience than I'd ever had to exercise before. But it was also cleaner in ways that mattered. No bodies to dispose of, no wondering if the organization would one day decide I knew too much, no looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.
Just evidence and justice and the slow, methodical work of doing things right instead of doing them fast.
It was strange. Uncomfortable. Completely foreign to everything I'd been trained to do.
But with Julian's hand in mine and his steady presence beside me, I found I didn't mind the challenge.
"Understood," I said finally, answering his earlier question. "We handle it together. The legal way. Even if it is unnecessarily complicated."
"That's my girl." He pulled me closer. "Now, since we're stuck waiting anyway and being boringly legitimate about it, why don't we talk about something else? Like that burgundy dress you're pretending you're never going to wear?"
I groaned, but I was smiling. "Do we have to?"
"Absolutely. I have standards to maintain, and watching you continue to hide behind widow's weeds is bad for my reputation."
"Your reputation as what, exactly?"
"As a man with excellent taste in women." His grin was sharp and pleased. "Now start talking. I want details."
And despite everything—the conspiracy we were unraveling, the danger lurking in the shadows, the complicated mess of secrets we were trying to navigate—I found myself laughing.
"It's burgundy silk," I said. "Fitted. Isabella said it makes me look like a femme fatale from a noir film."
"She's not wrong."
"I'm never wearing it."
"Yes, you are. To the engagement party. With me."
I tilted my head back to look at him. "You're really not going to let this go, are you?"
"Not a chance." He grinned. "I've spent weeks watching you hide behind black suits and that widow's veil of respectability. I want to see you in something that actually reflects who you are."
"A killer in a pretty dress?"
"A woman who's more than what the world tries to make her." His expression softened. "Someone who deserves to be seen. Really seen."
The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten. I wanted to deflect, to make a joke, to push away the vulnerability of being understood so completely. But I'd promised to let him in, to stop running every time things got too real.
So instead I just kissed him, pouring everything I couldn't say into the press of my lips against his.
When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard. Julian rested his forehead against mine, his hand cradling the back of my head.
"We're going to figure this out," he said quietly. "The investigation, Martin, all of it. We're going to protect Adrian and take down the people who tried to use you as a weapon against him."
"I know."
"And after that—" He pulled back slightly to look at me. "After that, we're going to figure out what this is. What we are to each other. No more hiding, no more secrets. Just us."
The promise in his words terrified me more than any assassination target ever had. But I found myself nodding anyway.
"Just us," I echoed.
---
We spent the rest of the evening in comfortable silence, Julian working through files on his laptop while I went through the shopping bags Isabella had forced on me. Most of it was impractical—dresses I'd never wear, shoes that were more art than footwear, accessories that served no purpose beyond looking expensive.
But the burgundy dress... I held it up, studying the way the silk caught the light, the elegant lines that would hug my body without restricting movement. It was beautiful in a way that felt almost dangerous, like wearing it would be an admission of something I wasn't ready to acknowledge.
"You're thinking too hard," Julian said without looking up from his screen.
"I'm not thinking at all."
"You're definitely thinking. I can practically hear the gears turning from here." Now he did look up, his eyes finding mine across the room. "It's just a dress, Evelyn."
"It's not just a dress. It's—" I stopped, trying to find the words. "It's a statement. It's me admitting that I'm not just Arthur's widow or Adrian's stepmother or some tragic figure to be pitied. It's me claiming space as myself."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"It's a dangerous thing." I set the dress down carefully. "The more visible I am, the more questions people ask. And I can't afford questions, Julian. Not with everything I'm hiding."
He closed his laptop and stood up, crossing to where I stood by the shopping bags. "You're not hiding anymore. Not from me, at least. And soon, not from anyone else either."
"That's easy for you to say. You don't have a body count and a Russian assassination organization looking over your shoulder."
"No, but I have my own complications. My own secrets." He touched my face, gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. "And I'm choosing to trust you with them. I'm choosing to believe that we can navigate this together."
"What secrets?" I asked, genuinely curious. "You're a legitimate businessman running a legal—if morally gray—security company. What could you possibly have to hide?"
His smile was sharp enough to cut. "You think Titan got to where it is by playing completely by the rules? You think I built a private military empire without making deals with people who'd make your Russian handlers look like choir boys?"
I felt my eyebrows rise. "Tell me."
"Not tonight." He pulled me closer. "Tonight, I just want to be here with you. No conspiracies, no investigations, no skeletons in closets. Just us."
I wanted to push, to demand answers, to understand exactly what kind of darkness he was carrying. But I also understood the need for compartmentalization, for keeping some things locked away until you were ready to face them.
So I just nodded and let him pull me into his arms.