Chapter 40 The Warning
Julian closed the door softly behind him. Each step he took toward the desk echoed in the quiet office, and Damien’s throat bobbed with an involuntary swallow.
“What are you doing here?” Damien demanded, forcing his voice steady.
Julian’s gaze narrowed at him, every mean instinct reflecting in his eyes. “I’ll only say this once, Damien. Whatever you do, whatever you say, take Seraphina’s name out of your mouth. And tell Talia to do the same.”
Damien blinked, disbelief flickering across his face before a smirk crawled up his lips. “So this is what it’s about? You’re still chasing someone with lots of emotional bruises like her? Or did you just decide to add her baggage to your life because you’re desperate to spite our father?”
The words hadn’t even fully left his mouth before Julian’s fist connected with his face.
The punch landed hard- an unflinching, brutal hit that sent Damien reeling against the table. The sick crack of bone followed by a splash of blood from his nose filled the room. Papers fluttered to the floor at the effect.
Julian returned his hand to his side swiftly like he hadn’t moved in the first place. “The next time you call her baggage,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with restrained violence, “I’ll knock out two of your teeth to remind you what you’re worth.”
Damien straightened, eyes wide and breathing heavily- his pride more wounded than his face. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he barked, his voice thick with frustration.
But Julian’s eyes devoid any hint of emotion—gray and cold as winter stone. He wasn’t here for an argument.
He hadn’t replied when the door to Damien’s office swung open again. Julian didn’t turn to see. “Dad, he’s creating a mess!” Damien complained as their father entered. He pointed at Julian with accusation.
“Julian?”
The deep, thunderous voice of Victor Thorne filled the space. Their father stood there in his custom suit, every inch the empire-built patriarch. His eyes hardened as they landed on Julian. “How dare you walk into my company without permission?” Then his eyes flicked to his son-Damien.
“And you are here to cause violence…seriously?”
Julian didn’t even turn fully toward him. He reached into his coat, pulled out a slim black file, and dropped it on Damien’s desk. The sound echoed like a hammer against wood.
“What’s this supposed to be?” Damien asked, wiping the blood from his face.
“Proof,” Julian said. “Evidence that this company- the great ThorneTech- has been funneling illegal money through offshore accounts for years. That the clean image you both sell to the world is built on fraud and blood deals. I know the people were already finding out. But they have no idea how deep you are into dirt.”
Both Victor and Damien froze. Victor’s hand twitched slightly by his side.
Julian leaned forward, his voice dropping lower as he repositioned his hat on his head with casual arrogance. “If either of you come near Seraphina again, or use her name to feed your little publicity games, I will burn everything you own to the ground. I’ll ruin you in the court, in the market, and in the streets. Do you understand?”
Victor’s nostrils flared. “You think you can threaten your own family?”
Julian’s gaze slid to him—finally meeting his father’s eyes for the first time since he entered. The air between them thickened instantly, a history of betrayal humming in the silence.
“I’m not threatening,” Julian said softly. “I’m promising, Victor.”
Again, Victor was taken aback as Julian addressed him by his first name.
Julian adjusted his coat, his composure perfectly restored, and turned toward the door. “You gave Damien backbone, Father,” he added, his tone almost casual. “A pity it’s as weak as yours.”
Then he left.
The door closed with a quiet click, but the silence he left behind was anything but calm.
Victor’s face darkened, a pulse throbbing near his temple. He turned sharply to Damien. “You idiot! You’re the reason this is happening. If you hadn’t run your mouth in that interview, if you hadn’t dragged Seraphina and that boy into the spotlight, we wouldn’t be on Julian’s radar again! You were not supposed to speak again them!”
Damien slammed his palm on the desk. “Don’t put this on me! My reputation was at stake too! You expect me to just sit back and let everyone think she left me for him?”
Victor’s patience snapped. He swept a pile of documents off the desk angrily, sending them scattering across the floor. “Your reputation won’t matter when the SEC comes after us! If Julian leaks that evidence, everything collapses. Every shell company, every deal- done and gone.”
Damien clenched his jaw, blood still trailing down his upper lip. “Then what do we do?”
Victor turned slowly toward the window, staring out at the city skyline—the empire they’d built, glittering and untouchable, now trembling at the edges. “If we can’t lure Julian and Seraphina back to our side,” he said darkly, “then this is war.”
Damien’s throat went dry. “You mean…”
Victor’s voice lowered to a growl. “They think they can walk away with that journal, talk about the Thornes publicly like that and then threaten to destroy what I built and still struggling to keep firm? Let them try.” He turned back, his eyes hard and gleaming. “I guess he’d forgotten I once sent him into exile. No matter who he think he had become, he’s still my child. He can’t understand the game better.”
He smirked amidst heavy breathings.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly, as if bearing witness to the beginning of a bigger feud.
Outside, far below, Julian was already stepping into his car.
Julian stared out the window as the city blurred past. His reflection in the glass looked calm, but inside, he was tryinh to hold himself together. Those were his family. He loved them once. Facing them now, promising to go against them was one of the hardest things he had ever done in his entire life.
But then, he had to do what needed to be done. He was no more the same person he was when he left Las Vegas.
If Victor wanted a war, he’d get one.
Only this time, Julian wouldn’t just defend what was his.
He’d end anyone who tried to take it away again.
His phone buzzed, and when he checked, it was a credit alert from the president himself. Some million dollars he get from him monthly for being his top secret protector.
The money always felt good. But right now, his priority had shifted— to a very beautiful stubborn relentless woman he had spent the last five years fantasizing about, and a genius baby boy their one nightstand had gifted him.
It was all he could think about.