Chapter 139
Evelyn's POV
I blinked innocently. "Did what?"
"The comment about other women." His eyes narrowed. "You were baiting me. Deliberately."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Liar." His hand moved to my ribs. "You wanted me to get possessive. Wanted me to—"
His fingers dug in. Found the spot that made me squirm.
"Julian!" I gasped, trying to twist away. "Don't you dare—"
But he was already tickling me mercilessly. I dissolved into helpless laughter. Trying to fight him off while he held me easily with one arm.
"Admit it," he demanded. His own laughter rumbling through his chest. "You were being a brat on purpose."
"Never!" I managed between giggles. "I would never—"
His fingers found another sensitive spot. I shrieked with laughter.
"Okay! Okay!" I gasped. "Yes! I did it on purpose!"
Julian stopped. But kept me pinned beneath him. His expression shifting from playful to something softer. More vulnerable.
"Why?" he asked quietly.
I caught my breath. Met his eyes. "Because I could. Because I knew you wouldn't actually be angry. Because for the first time in my life, I felt safe enough to test boundaries without being afraid." I touched his face. "Because being loved by you makes me brave enough to be a little bit bratty."
Julian's expression did something complicated. Then he kissed me. Slow and deep and achingly tender.
"You can be as bratty as you want," he murmured against my lips. "As long as you understand I'll always call you on it."
I smiled. "I'm counting on it."
He laughed. Rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him. "You're going to be trouble, aren't you?"
"Probably." I settled against his chest. Feeling his heartbeat steady beneath my palm. "Think you can handle it?"
"Sweetheart," Julian said, his arms tightening around me. "I've been handling trouble my entire life. You're just the first kind I actually want to keep."
I felt his lips press against my hair. Felt the steady thud of his heartbeat under my palm.
"I love you," he murmured. "Even when you're being deliberately provocative."
I smiled against his chest. "Especially when I'm being deliberately provocative."
"Yeah," he admitted. "Especially then."
"Good. Because I plan to do it a lot." His arm tightened around me.
---
I must have dozed off. Because when I opened my eyes again, the room was darker. The city lights beyond the windows had dimmed to late-night glow.
Julian was still holding me. But he was awake. Staring at the ceiling with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"Can't sleep?" I asked softly.
He glanced down. Something vulnerable in his eyes. "Just thinking."
"About?"
"About how close I came to losing you." His jaw tightened. "When you pushed me away. When you said we were nothing. I thought—" He stopped. Took a breath. "I thought I'd fucked it up. That I'd pushed too hard. Asked for too much too soon."
My chest ached. "You didn't. I was just scared. Scared of needing someone. Scared of what it meant to let you in."
"And now?"
"Now I'm still scared," I admitted. "But I'm more scared of losing you. Of going back to being alone." I shifted to look at him properly. "You're the first person who's ever made me feel like I could be myself. All of myself. The broken parts and the dangerous parts. And not have to apologize for it."
Julian's hand came up. Cupped my face. "You never have to apologize for what you are. Not to me. Not to anyone." His thumb brushed my cheekbone. "I love you exactly as you are. Violence and vengeance and all."
The acceptance in his voice nearly broke me.
I kissed him. Slow and deep. Trying to convey everything I felt. Everything I couldn't quite put into words yet.
When we broke apart, I settled back against his chest. His arms came around me. Solid and warm and safe.
"Julian?" I said after a moment.
"Mmm?"
"Tell me about your past. About who you lost. About why you understand revenge."
He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn't answer. Then he took a breath.
"My mother," he said quietly. "When I was sixteen. She was kidnapped by a terrorist cell. They demanded ransom. My father—" His voice turned bitter. "My father was a four-star general. He refused to pay. Said it would set a dangerous precedent. That we don't negotiate with terrorists."
I went very still. Understanding flooding through me.
"They killed her," Julian continued. His voice flat now. Emotionless in the way that suggested he was holding back an ocean of feeling. "Sent us a video. Made sure we knew exactly what they did to her before she died."
"Jesus," I breathed. "Julian, I'm so sorry."
"I hunted them down," he said. "Every single one. Took me three years. But I found them all. And I made them suffer the way they made her suffer." He paused. "My father disowned me for it. Said I'd dishonored the family name. Dishonored the military."
"Fuck him," I said fiercely. "You did what he should have done. You got justice for her."
Julian's arms tightened around me. "That's why I started Titan. Why I built a private military company instead of staying in the service. Because I realized the rules we follow—the codes and protocols—they only protect people who don't deserve protection. The innocent get sacrificed for policy. And I couldn't stomach that anymore."
I understood now. Understood why he'd been so patient with my need for revenge. Why he'd never once tried to talk me out of it.
Because he'd been there. Had walked the same path. Had made the same choice to prioritize justice over law.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For telling me. For trusting me with that."
"You trusted me with your darkness," Julian said. "Fair's fair."
We lay there in comfortable silence. Two killers who'd found each other. Who understood that sometimes love meant accepting the worst in someone and choosing them anyway.
Ghost jumped onto the bed. Circled twice. Then settled against my side with a contented purr.
"See?" Julian said. Amusement in his voice. "She's claimed you now. You're officially part of the family."
I reached down. Scratched behind Ghost's ears. The cat leaned into my touch.
"I can live with that," I said.
And for the first time in five years, I meant it.