Chapter 36 FIRST STRIKE
The city blurred past the tinted windows as Julian’s car slid through the late-night traffic, the soft glow of streetlights painting fleeting streaks across Eli’s face. The ride home had been quiet, as usual, Julian was typing rapidly on his phone, jaw tight, his other hand loosely resting on Eli’s thigh as if the contact anchored him.
Eli watched him out of the corner of his eye.
Julian was angry… no, simmering.
But nothing about the night suggested danger. Nothing warned Eli of the storm seconds away.
Not until Julian stopped typing mid-word.
His eyes lifted, sharp and instinctive.
“Julian?” Eli asked quietly.
“Stay down,” Julian said.
Eli didn’t even have time to process the order.
POP—POP—POP—POP—POP!
Gunfire exploded from the darkness.
The car’s windshield cracked like spiderwebs. Bullets hammered into the reinforced metal with terrifying force. The sound was suffocating inside the closed cabin; metal shrieking, glass splintering, the vehicle shaking with each impact.
Eli gasped, ducking instinctively, but Julian was already on him; pushing him down, covering his body with his own.
“Julian—!”
“Stay down,” Julian growled, voice vibrating with feral possessiveness. His body pressed into Eli’s completely, shielding him from every direction.
Another round of gunshots tore into the car. One bullet punched through the passenger window, spraying glass that would’ve sliced across Eli’s cheek… if Julian hadn’t snapped his hand up to block it.
Blood trickled from Julian’s palm.
Eli’s eyes widened. “You’re hurt!”
“It’s nothing.” Julian’s breath was hot against Eli’s ear. “I’ve survived worse.”
The gunfire paused. A hollow click echoed from somewhere outside; the sound of someone reloading.
Julian’s eyes flashed murder.
He grabbed Eli’s jaw gently, forcing him to meet his gaze. “When the car stops, you move when I tell you. Not before.”
Eli nodded shakily.
Then—
BOOOOM!
The car jolted as a bullet hit the tire. The driver cursed, fighting the wheel.
“We’re losing control!” he shouted.
Julian kept Eli pinned as the vehicle skidded, fishtailing toward the curb. Tires screeched. Metal groaned.
Then—
CRASH.
The car slammed into a concrete barricade, jerking both of them violently. Eli winced, breath knocked out of him. Julian’s arm wrapped around him at the last second to cushion the impact.
Silence settled for barely two seconds.
Then Julian barked, “Move!”
He shoved the door open with the side of his body and dragged Eli out. The night air was freezing, sharp. Eli stumbled beside him, but Julian’s arm remained locked around his waist, guiding him toward the lobby entrance of the nearest building.
They barely made it five steps.
A soft beeping filled the air.
Julian froze.
Eli’s heart slammed painfully. “What is—”
Julian didn’t wait for the question to finish.
“Get back!”
He yanked Eli into his arms, and sprinted.
The explosion hit like the sky collapsing.
The car behind them detonated with a deafening roar. Fire erupted upward, swallowing the night in blinding orange. The shockwave tore through the street with violent force. The blast hit Eli’s back hard enough to send his feet off the ground.
But he never hit the pavement.
Julian held him through the entire shockwave, shielding his body once more, one arm around his shoulders, the other around his waist; protective, and absolute. The sheer dominance of the gesture made Eli’s breath catch despite the terror.
The glass façade of the building rattled, alarms screamed, flames crackled behind them, but all Eli felt was Julian’s grip.
Only when the debris stopped raining did Julian release a slow breath.
“You’re safe,” he murmured, pulling Eli closer. “Don’t be scared.”
Eli’s knees nearly buckled. His ears rang violently, heart racing so fast he thought it might break through his ribs.
But Julian didn’t let him fall.
He scooped Eli up bridal-style, holding him as if he weighed nothing, carrying him across the lobby threshold with a terrifyingly calm fury carved into every line of his face.
Security rushed toward them.
Julian snapped, “Where is Anton?”
“On his way, sir!”
Eli buried his face in Julian’s shoulder, breathing in smoke and cologne, trembling despite himself. Julian’s fingers stroked his back gently, almost soothing… completely at odds with the rage in his eyes.
They reached Julian’s private elevator. The doors closed, isolating them in silence.
Only then did Eli whisper, “Julian… someone tried to kill you.”
Julian’s jaw clenched. “No. They tried to kill us.”
The words chilled Eli more than he's already chilled.
Julian looked down at him with a raw, dangerous emotion. “He knew you’d be with me. He wanted you gone to destabilize me.”
“Julian, who—”
“Don’t say his name.” Julian’s voice was a low growl.
The elevator reached the penthouse level. Julian carried Eli straight inside, his grip stubborn, as if he didn’t trust Eli to stand.
Suddenly—
A figure leaned casually near the marble island, arms folded, a mocking smile curving his lips.
Anton.
He clapped slowly, theatrically. “Well,” he drawled, “that was dramatic.”
Julian placed Eli gently on the nearest couch and straightened, expression darkening into something lethal.
Anton lifted both brows. “Your father says hello.”
Eli’s heart dropped to his stomach. “My father?” Eli whispered, disbelief cracking his voice. “He—he wouldn’t—”
“He would,” Anton cut in. “He did. And he’ll keep doing it, too. Until one of you is dead.”
Eli stared at him, horror wrapping around his spine like ice. His chest tightened painfully.
Henry hates him— fine. He hates Julian— fine. But this?
This was monstrous.
They could have really died.
Anton tilted his head, eyes flicking to Eli. “You look surprised. Didn’t you grow up with him? Didn’t he teach you exactly what he is?”
Eli’s throat tightened. His hands shook.
Julian stepped between them. “Say one more word to him and I’ll break your jaw.”
Anton smirked unfazed. “I’m not the one who ordered your execution. And I didn't ask you to doll the boy up like a sex toy and parade him.”
Julian moved so fast Eli barely saw it, one second he was still, the next he slammed Anton into the marble wall by the collar, face inches from his.
“Stop running your mouth. I don't care what he blows up next, if Henry wants a war,” Julian whispered, voice dripping menace, “then I’ll show him what war looks like.”
Anton’s smile widened. “Good. Because he’s already started.”
Julian shoved him away with a disgusted snarl.
Anton brushed imaginary dust off his jacket. “Get your house in order, Julian. Tonight was just the first strike.”
He left as casually as he’d come.
Julian turned back to Eli.
He knelt in front of Eli, cupped his face gently with both hands.
“I promise you,” he said softly, “no one will ever touch you again. Not your father. Not his soldiers. Not anyone.”
Eli swallowed hard. “Julian…”
“I shielded you once.” Julian’s thumb brushed Eli’s cheek. “I’ll shield you a thousand times if I must. I know I'm hurting you, but I won't get you killed.”
His voice dropped into something darker, colder.
“But in your father's case. I’m done playing nice.”
Julian stood up, phone already in hand.
“Lock down the penthouse,” he ordered the security team. “Get the group ready. And prepare the retaliation package.”
“Package?” Eli echoed shakily.
Julian met his gaze, steel-hard.
“I’m escalating,” he said. “Your father just declared war. I’m going to finish it.”
Eli’s blood ran cold. He doesn't know how to feel about knowing sooner or later, his once thought dead father will actually die or Julian might be the one dying… Eli wasn't comfortable with anyone dying. He doesn't like how Julian dragged him into this chaos and danger, but he doesn't want Julian dead or even hurt; especially after knowing what his father did to make Julian this vengeful.
…And his father was never the best father but he doesn't want him dead.