Chapter 53 Wielding His Power
Julian’s secret building did not exist on any official record.
It stood at the edge of the city’s forgotten district, hidden behind layers of intentional neglect. From the outside, it resembled nothing more than an abandoned warehouse, its paint peeling, its windows darkened with dust and time. But inside, it breathed with quiet life. Clean spaces, comfy interiors, enough workers and enough food to go round for the stranded people he took care of here.
It was a total safe space.
Julian had built it years ago in silence, brick by brick, through shell companies and invisible funding channels.
It was the only place that reminded him he was still capable of something human.
He stood at the far end of the dining room now, his tall frame half-shadowed against the wall, watching Adrian eat.
The boy sat at the small wooden table, his legs too short to reach the floor, swinging faintly as he focused entirely on the plate in front of him. He ate with urgency, his small fingers clumsy around the spoon, scooping rice and stew into his mouth as though the food might disappear if he slowed down.
One of the older maids stood nearby, quietly and watching over the kid.
Julian’s chest tightened at the sight.
He had seen hunger before. He had lived it- when he was little and their father had nothing but only dirty works’ deals and little earnings that barely got them through the day. He knew exactly how their father finally acquired his wealth.
Experiencing hunger never stopped hurting to witness it in a child.
He stepped forward, his polished shoes silent against the floor.
Adrian didn’t notice him immediately. The boy remained focused on his meal, chewing quickly, swallowing, reaching for more.
Julian stopped beside him.
“Did they feed you,” Julian asked quietly, “where I took you to?”
The boy froze.
He hesitated, then shook his head.
“They gave… tea,” Adrian said softly.
Just tea.
Julian closed his eyes briefly.
He forced his breathing to remain steady, swallowing the surge of anger that rose like fire in his throat. His jaw flexed beneath the surface of his composure.
That was how they operated.
They deprived the children of everything- food, comfort, dignity- until obedience became their only survival mechanism. They broke them down piece by piece until resistance felt impossible.
They turned children into tools. In their eyes, they were merely weapons and properties.
Julian had seen what happened to the ones who survived long enough.
He would never allow Adrian to become one of them. And he would keep saving as much as he could even if he had to die while doing it.
He crouched beside the boy, lowering himself to his level. His large frame softened in proximity, his voice quieter now.
“You are safe here,” he said.
Adrian looked at him.
There was potential trust in his eyes already. It struck Julian unexpectedly. Kids were his weakest point.
The boy nodded slowly.
Then, after a moment, Adrian asked in a small voice, “Will…mum come to see me?”
Julian’s throat tightened. He was hoping the kid wouldn’t ask.
He forced his expression to remain calm.
“She had to travel for work, okay?” Julian said carefully. “You will see her again.”
It was not entirely a lie. He intended to find her even though he had no idea who abducted her or whether she was still alive or not.
No matter how long it took. He would help look for the kid’s mother.
Adrian nodded, a single tear slipping down his cheek.
“Why are you crying?” Julian asked, his instinct already telling him why.
Adrian’s lips trembled.
“They killed my dad,” he whispered.
Julian’s stomach coiled with fury. He knew about that. They killed his father and abducted his mother. He was only able to save the kid.
He did not know how to comfort the boy.
He had never learned how.
Instead, he rested a hand lightly on Adrian’s black curly hair. Julian’s phone buzzed then.
“Keep eating,” he said quietly to the kid before he stood.
He stepped outside the dining room after taking a once over look across other people dining in the room, the sound of the door closing behind him muffling the quiet clatter of utensils.
Inside, Vincent who had been silently watching from the hallway appeared.
He walked toward Adrian and crouched beside him, his presence less controlled than Julian’s, but no less protective.
Vincent reached out and wiped another tear from the boy’s cheek with his thumb.
“We will destroy the people who killed your father,” Vincent assured.
Adrian looked at him.
“You promise?”
Vincent nodeed.
“I give you my word.”
The boy’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, then he asked something Vincent had not expected.
“Can I go home with you?”
He stared at the boy, momentarily unable to respond.
—
Outside, Julian stared at his phone.
Balto. Of course. He was calling for the second time in what seemed like a minute now, and he would pick this time around.
He answered.
Balto’s voice came through immediately, stripped of its usual arrogance.
“I need your help.”
Julian’s jaw tightened, waiting for him to continue.
“The kid you brought is gone. My men were killed on the road and the kid was taken. I have no idea who and I need your help to help find that out, and get the boy back.”
Julian let out a faint, humorless sound. Only if Balto knew how disgusted he sounded to him right now.
“Well, like you said…you were going to seek out the kid because of his rare talent. Of course you don’t think only your seller wanted the kid. Someone else could have wanted him for the same reason. Thats why they took him. Just my guess.” Julian said.
Balto went silent for a few seconds before speaking again.
“I never thought of that. You are the only one I know who’s capable of finding him, Julian.”
Julian almost laughed at the fact that Balto was looking for the wrong kid, who he had under his nose, while the right kid- who happened to be his own son, was now far away from enemies’ reach.
“My contract with you ended, Balto.” Julian replied calmly. “I delivered the boy. What happens after that is no longer my concern.”
The moment Balto swallowed his pride, Julian could feel it.
“Please, Julian,” Balto pleaded. “I will pay you well. I can’t fail this buyer. He paid a lot.”
The desperation in his voice was unmistakable.
Julian’s fingers tightened around his phone, resentment sitting further in him as he comprehended the supposed powerful man over the phone.
He imagined Balto standing there, ego fractured, control slipping through his hands.
It was satisfying.
“Goodbye, Balto.”
He ended the call.
For a moment, Julian stood there, staring at nothing.
His grip tightened further until the edges of the phone pressed painfully into his palm.
Men like Balto did not deserve to live.
But Julian understood the cost of killing someone like him.
He was not ready to ignite that fire. Not now that he had people to protect.
Not yet.
He returned inside briefly, then left the building entirely.
—
An hour later, Julian arrived at Zenith One.
The glass tower rose into the sky like a monument to his defiance. Every inch of it represented his independence. His power. His escape from the world that had tried to own him.
He stepped out of his car, adjusting his cuffs as his mind shifted toward his upcoming meeting with President Frederick.
A man whose influence extended beyond borders. and who- fortunately, was very fond of him.
He was one of the people Julian was loyal to. One of the rare men who didn’t use power wrongly. A man Julian would be loyal to for the rest of his lives because when Julian needed help, President Frederick was there. He was always there.
He began walking toward the entrance. But a shadow closing on him from behind made him turn to see. His eyes sharpened with rejection before he could even learn why he was at his company.
Damien hesitated for a second when he took in Julian’s unfriendly expression. Without overthinking it, he stepped forward.
“We need to talk.”