Chapter 127
Julian's POV
The three of us stood near the edge of the dock, far enough from the main activity that we wouldn't be overheard.
"I need to ask you something," I said without preamble. "Nora mentioned you invited her to be a partner in the island project."
Zachary raised an eyebrow. "We did. She's got the professional expertise we need, and Emily likes her. It's a win-win."
"Her financial situation isn't great right now," I said bluntly. "If this partnership requires any kind of investment on her part, I'll cover it. But don't tell her."
Emily's expression shifted, something warm and knowing flickering across her face.
"Julian," she said gently, "I appreciate what you're trying to do. But you should know—I'm not taking care of Nora just because you asked us to."
I stiffened. "I didn't mean to imply—"
"Let me finish." Her tone was firm but kind. "I like her. She's smart, professional, and she genuinely cares about the work she does. That's why I want her involved. Not because of you."
She paused, letting that sink in before continuing. "This project doesn't require her to invest a dime. We want her expertise and her media connections. That's it. So you can relax about the money."
I studied her for a long moment, weighing her words. Emily held my gaze without flinching, and I saw nothing but sincerity there.
I clapped Zachary on the shoulder. "You picked a good one, Zach."
"I know," he said proudly.
"Julian, if there's ever anything we can do for her, don't hesitate to ask. Friends help each other."
"Same goes for you," I said. "If you need anything on my end, just say the word."
Zachary's grin widened. "Careful. I might actually take you up on that."
"I hope you do."
With that, the conversation ended, and I turned to find Nora waiting near the dock, her duffel bag at her feet, staring into the distance.
I walked over to her side.
"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked.
"Just thinking about how much I'm going to miss this place."
"We can come back," I said.
She glanced at me, her expression unreadable. "You'd really bring me back here?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she turned back to the water, her fingers curling around the railing. "There's something I need to tell you."
I straightened, my focus narrowing on her. "What is it?"
"While you were gone..." She hesitated, her jaw tightening. "Someone showed up and harassed me. A guy I used to know through Kyle."
Every muscle in my body went taut. "Who?"
"Connor Lopez." Her voice was steady, but I caught the faint tremor beneath it. "He cornered me on the beach. Zachary showed up before anything happened."
White-hot anger surged through me, sharp and vicious. My hands clenched into fists, and I had to force myself to breathe through it before I spoke.
"Where is he now?" My voice came out flat, controlled.
"Zachary's holding him," Nora said quietly. "He wanted to tell you, but I asked him to wait. I wanted to be the one to say it."
I stared at her, my mind racing. She looked calm—too calm—but I knew her well enough by now to see the tension in her shoulders.
"You should've told me the moment I got back," I said.
"I know." She met my gaze. "But I didn't want to ruin the trip. We were having such a good time, and I just... I didn't want to bring that into it."
I leaned closer, my hand coming up to cup her jaw.
"Nora," I said, my voice low and deliberate. "If someone lays a hand on you, I want to know. Immediately. Do you understand?"
She nodded, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. "I do. I'm sorry."
I held her gaze for a long moment, then sighed and let my hand drop. "Don't apologize. Just... don't keep things like this from me again."
"I won't."
I straightened, my mind already shifting to what needed to be done. "I'll deal with him."
"Julian—"
"I'll handle it properly," I said firmly. "You don't need to be involved."
She bit her lip, then nodded again. "Okay."
I found Zachary.
"Where is he?"
"In the storage shed," Zachary said, immediately understanding. "Hasn't stopped whining since we locked him up."
"Good." I glanced back at Nora, who stood a few paces behind me, her arms wrapped around herself. "Stay here."
"Julian—"
"Stay here," I repeated, my tone leaving no room for argument.
She pressed her lips together but didn't protest further.
Zachary led me across the dock to a low, weathered building tucked against the tree line. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a cramped space filled with old equipment and supplies.
Connor slumped against the far wall, his hands bound with zip ties. He looked up as we entered, and I got my first good look at him—disheveled hair, wrinkled polo shirt, the faint stink of sweat and fear clinging to him like a second skin.
His eyes widened when he saw me. "Who the hell are you?"
"Nora's boyfriend," I said, standing over him.
"You made a mistake," I said finally, my voice quiet and cold. "A very stupid mistake."
"Look, man, I don't know what she told you, but—"
"Don't." The word came out sharp, and he flinched. "Don't insult my intelligence by lying to me."
His mouth snapped shut.
I leaned in closer, holding his gaze. "You have two choices. You can kneel in front of Nora, apologize for your behavior, and swear never to come near her again. Or..." I let the sentence hang, watching as the color drained from his face. "We can settle this another way."
"What other way?" he asked, his voice cracking.
"A challenge," I said simply. "Five minutes. If you can stay on your feet, I'll let you walk away."
Connor's eyes darted between me and Zachary.
He swallowed hard, his jaw working as he weighed his options. Finally, he spat, "Fine. I'll fight."
I straightened, stepping back to give him room. Zachary unlocked the restraints, and Connor scrambled to his feet, rubbing his wrists.
"Stupid choice," Zachary muttered under his breath.
Connor didn't respond. He was too busy shifting into his half-wolf form—fur sprouting along his arms, claws extending, his frame bulking up as his muscles swelled. His amber eyes glowed with feral aggression.
I didn't move.
He lunged.
I sidestepped, my movement fluid and precise, and drove my elbow into the back of his neck as he stumbled past. He hit the ground hard, dust billowing up around him.
"Get up," I said calmly.
He snarled and scrambled to his feet, launching himself at me again. This time, I caught his wrist mid-swing, twisting it sharply until I felt the joint pop. He howled, and I swept his legs out from under him, slamming him onto his back.
The fight—if it could even be called that—lasted less than two minutes. By the end, Connor was wheezing on the ground, blood trickling from his nose, his body trembling with exhaustion and pain.
I crouched beside him, my hand closing around his throat. I didn't squeeze—just held him there, letting him feel the weight of my dominance pressing down on him like a physical force.
"Do you want to continue?" I asked softly.
He shook his head frantically, his eyes wide and glassy. "No. No, I give up. I give up."
I released him and stood, brushing the dust off my hands. "Then you know what to do."