The afternoon sun was high when the heavy oak doors of Julian's study creaked open. In his previous life, this sound had always heralded the arrival of his "most trusted" advisor. In reality, it was the sound of a predator entering the fold.
Marcus Thorne walked in, a stack of folders under his arm and a practiced expression of grave concern on his face. Marcus had been Julian's best friend since childhood—and the architect of every lie that had led to Elena's demise.
"Julian," Marcus began, his voice smooth as silk. "I'm glad you're alone. I've just received some... disturbing intelligence regarding the girl. Regarding Elena."
The Performance of a Traitor Julian thought and didn't look up immediately. He sat behind his desk, his hands clasped tightly beneath the surface to hide the white-knuckled fury shaking his frame. In the past, he would have jumped up, demanded the 'truth,' and let Marcus poison his mind with forged letters and fake bank statements.
"Intelligence, Marcus?" Julian asked, his voice dangerously low.
"I'm afraid so." Marcus dropped a grainy photograph onto the desk. It showed Elena meeting a man in a crowded marketplace—a contact Julian now knew was actually her estranged brother seeking medical help. "She's been seen passing notes to the rival faction again. I warned you her devotion was too good to be true, didn't I?"
Julian looked at the photo. In his first life, this piece of paper had been the catalyst for his first act of violence against her. He had slapped her across the face for "treason" before she could explain.
The urge to leap across the desk and wrap his hands around Marcus's throat was a physical ache. Julian could almost feel the phantom spray of blood on his face. But he forced himself to breathe. A quick death was too good for Marcus. He needed to dismantle Marcus's entire world, brick by brick, just as Marcus had dismantled Elena's soul.
He took away my child, Julian thought, his eyes darkening to a predatory obsidian. He watched her bleed and told me she deserved it.
"This is... concerning," Julian said, forcing a mask of cold indifference. He picked up the photo, feigning interest. "What do you suggest we do?"
The Trap is Set Marcus and leaned in, sensing blood in the water. "We need to tighten her restrictions. Confine her to the North Wing. Cut off her communications. If we break her spirit, she'll confess to where the documents are hidden."
Julian finally looked up, meeting Marcus's gaze. For a split second, the sheer, icy hatred in Julian's eyes made Marcus flinch. But Julian quickly smoothed it over with a chilling, hollow smile.
"You're right, Marcus. We must ensure she gets exactly what she deserves."
Julian stood up and walked toward the window, looking out at the garden where Elena was currently tending to the roses. She looked so fragile, so blissfully unaware of the monsters surrounding her.
"From this moment on," Julian continued, "I want her under 24-hour surveillance. But don't use your men. I'll appoint my personal guard. I want to make sure nothing happens to her that I don't personally oversee."
Marcus grinned, thinking he had won. "Wise move, Julian. You always were the pragmatic one."
As Marcus turned to leave, Julian's voice stopped him at the door.
"Oh, and Marcus?"
"Yes?"
"I've decided to move the wedding up. Two weeks. I want her tied to this house permanently. Ensure the invitations are sent out... especially to our 'enemies.' I want them all in one room."
Marcus nodded, his eyes gleaming with the prospect of more chaos. When the door finally clicked shut, Julian let out a jagged breath. He walked over to the desk and picked up the photograph of Elena. With a steady hand, he tucked it into his breast pocket, right against his heart.
The hunt had begun. But this time, the wolf was guarding the lamb.