Hallie’s brow furrowed in confusion, her mind racing to understand whatever he was getting at. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t decipher the hidden meaning behind his words.
Sensing her confusion, Julian simply smiled. “Forget about it, Aunt,” he said, brushing off her question like dust. His hand stayed on her cheek, stroking it gently, as he spoke again. “Tell me—can you do anything for him?”
Hallie’s breath hitched, the words catching in her throat as her mind spiraled. Ivan’s hollow eyes—the devastation she had witnessed—her mother’s helplessness.
And now Julian, with his twisted game, was forcing her to answer the impossible. The tension in her chest tightened painfully, but she couldn’t back away now.
“Anything,” she admitted, her voice raw, her love for her son slipping through the cracks in her hate. Her eyes met his again, blazing through the pain, daring him to take that word and try to make her regret it.
Julian’s smirk deepened, that predatory gleam in his eyes turning darker, as he repeated her words. “Anything…..” He leaned in, his voice like a silken blade, painfully soft. “Anything is a heavy word to use, my dear Princess.”
His smirk curled further, and goosebumps raced down Hallie’s spine. She could feel the meaning in his tone, the dark possibilities lurking behind his words, and her stomach turned. Julian’s eyes glinted—not with lust, but with control of watching someone struggle in the web he had laid so effortlessly.
She knew what he meant. Or at least, she feared she did.
His fingers remained on her cheek, a caress that was not rough, not violent, but gentle—and it made it even worse. She shivered at the intimacy of it, a touch that felt both possessive and predatory.
In the moment of panic, she struck, pushing him with everything she had—hands slamming into his chest, legs kicking, fighting like a trapped animal—and for a moment, just a moment, she thought she broke free.
She stumbled back, gasping for air, and quickly created some distance. But even as she pulled away, her gut told her the truth.
It wasn’t her strength that freed her; it was his choice.
Julian let her escape, his hands dropping casually to his sides, his deep blue eyes still tracking her every move.
Hallie crashed against the table behind her, her hands gripping its edge like it was the only thing holding her upright. Her gown was wrinkled and torn, her hair a wild mess, and her hands trembled as she clutched the edge, trying to steady herself.
“Stay away from me,” she hissed, clenching her jaw as she glared at him. His touch still lingered on her skin, making her shiver and tremble faintly.
Julian leaned casually against the wall, right where he had pinned her just moments ago. His posture was relaxed, almost bored, like watching a caged bird struggle to get free.
“Did your love lose to your freedom, Aunt?” he asked, each word a knife dipped in poison. He was smiling again, soft and cruel, enjoying the conflict etched into her face.
Hallie’s grip on the table tightened, her knuckles turning white. Her eyes snapped back to his, hatred boiling behind them. “Don’t you dare twist my love into your sick games,” she growled, her voice low and raw, barely holding together.
Her body was still tense, her breathing ragged, but she looked ready to throw herself at him again if she had to.
Folding his arms over his chest, Julian tilted his head, that damn smirk never faltering. “Twist it?” he repeated, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “You’re the one who said anything, Princess. I’m just asking—did Ivan’s worth buckle under your need to breathe?”
He took a step forward, closing the distance that she had so painfully maintained.
Hallie froze. She couldn’t move. Her body wanted to flee, but her pride, her fury, and her maternal instinct—they locked her in place. Her grip on the table tightened, and with a loud scream, she shoved it hard toward Julian, the wood scraping against the stone floor with a screech.
Game pieces, mugs, and bread flew into the air before crashing to the ground around them.
“Ivan’s worth it!” she roared, the words raw and carrying all the desperation she had been choking down.
Julian sidestepped it effortlessly, and the table crashed into the wall where he had been, shattering one of its legs with a crack. He laughed, brushing his robe lazily, as if ridding himself of dust.
“Yeah, yeah,” he mocked. “Let him hide under your gown, whimpering, while I take control of the kingdom.” His smirk widened, his voice dripping with disdain as he straightened, unbothered by her attack.
Hallie fell to her knees, her gown tangled around her legs, but she glared up at him, teeth bared.
“You’ll never deserve it,” she spat, her voice shaking with hate, her fingers digging into the floor as if she could claw her way back at him. “Ivan’s twice the man you’ll ever be!”
Julian’s laugh softened to a chuckle, but it was no less cutting. He stepped over a spilled mug, closing the gap again, looming over her kneeling form.
“Twice the man?” Funny—he’s not here, is he? Just you, on your knees, failing him again.” He crouched slightly, his smirk a dagger aimed at her heart.
After some time, he stood back up, brushing his hands together like he was done with a chore. He shook his head slowly, his eyes glinting with mock pity. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough, Aunt. Go now—Ivan might be waiting for you to breastfeed him.”
The insult landed hard, his low chuckle breaking the silence as he turned his back on her before strolling toward his chair like she no longer existed.
Hallie’s hands curled into fists, her nails digging into the stone floor as his words sank in, a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over her fury. Her face flushed red with shame, her breath hitching in her throat as she forced herself to stand, limbs shaking.
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