Chapter 270

JULIAN'S POV

The quiet in my empty apartment was suffocating. I tossed my heavy duffel bag onto the floor by the entryway and stood in the dark living room, the cold silence pressing against my chest.

Every instinct in me screamed to reach into the cabinet for a bottle and pour a glass or three, just to numb the ringing in my ears.

Then my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a reminder popping up on my screen, flashing alongside an unread text message.

Marcus.

I rubbed my tired eyes, the haze in my mind clearing just enough for memory to slot back into place. Marcus was back in town, and we had made plans to grab drinks tonight.

After everything that had gone down today, the match, Brandon taking half my captaincy, the silent threats in the hallway, the last thing I wanted to do was isolate myself in this giant, empty shell of a home.

Ten minutes later, I was back in my car, driving toward the dimly lit, upscale lounge in the center of the city where Marcus had booked a booth.

The moment I walked through the heavy wooden doors, the low hum of jazz and the warm amber lighting wrapped around me. I spotted Marcus sitting at a corner leather booth near the back.

"Julian!" Marcus called out, standing up as I approached. I stepped forward, pulling my best friend into a firm, brief hug, clapping him hard on the back.

"Good to see you, man. It's been too long."

"Too long, brother," Marcus said, pulling back and looking at me closely before gesturing toward the leather seat opposite him. "Sit down. I already ordered us a couple of double scotches."

"You read my mind," I muttered, sliding into the booth as the bartender set two crystal glasses filled with dark amber liquid on the table.

I picked mine up without hesitation, taking a long, heavy sip that burned all the way down my throat. The heat hit my stomach, instantly easing a tiny fraction of the tension locked in my shoulders.

Marcus took a sip of his own drink, setting his glass down softly. I looked over at him, forcing my mind away from my own spiraling life for a second.

"So, how are things going with the new venture?" I asked, leaning back against the leather. "The last time we spoke, you were still dealing with the fallout of stepping out from under your father's shadow."

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head with a mixture of fatigue and pride. "It’s a battlefield, honestly. Breaking off from my father's firm and launching an independent business wasn't easy, he made sure to cut off half my initial contacts out of spite. But it’s going well. Step by step, I’m building my own team. I’ll get the hang of it soon enough."

"I don't doubt it," I said genuinely. "You always were the smart one among us." Marcus smiled faintly, but as the waitress cleared away empty glasses nearby, his expression shifted, turning serious and heavy.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes locking onto mine. "Speaking of crazy situations, Julian... I saw the news today," Marcus said softly, his tone cautious. "Leonie's arrest... her escape... man, what the hell is happening?"

A bitter laugh escaped my throat before I could stop it. I swirled the ice around in my glass, watching the liquid catch the dim light.

"It's a complete nightmare, Marcus," I spat out, my grip tightening on the glass. "Leonie went completely off the rails, trying to pull off some half-baked scheme with Aria and Amelia. But you know what the worst part is? It's Brandon. That bastard is everywhere."

Marcus remained quiet, listening intently as the frustration I had been bottling up all afternoon began to spill over.

"He was at the rink today, Marcus," I continued, my voice tight with suppressed rage. "He stood right in front of my team and publicly appointed Seb as co-captain. He stripped away half my authority on the ice just to flex his corporate power over me. And then he had the nerve to corner me in the hallway and threaten to destroy my career if he finds out I helped Leonie. He thinks he owns the team. He thinks he owns Aria. He’s systematically taking everything away from me!"

Marcus let out a slow breath, swirling his drink silently while I caught my breath. He didn't interrupt, but he didn't join in on my anger either.

When I finally went quiet, Marcus set his glass down firmly on the table. "Julian," Marcus said, his voice deadly serious, devoid of any sugarcoating. "Look at me."

I raised my eyes to meet his gaze.

"I love you like a brother, man," Marcus began, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Which is why I'm going to tell you what nobody else in your life has the guts to say right now. You need to let Aria go."

I blinked, my jaw tensing immediately. "Marcus, you don't understand—"

"No, you don't understand, Julian," Marcus cut in, his voice firm, holding his hand up to stop me. "Brandon didn't ruin your life. Leonie didn't ruin your life. You have to stop blaming Brandon for every single thing that goes wrong. Look at where you are right now. Look at the mess with Leonie, the drinking, the scandal. Aria has moved on. She built a safe life away from all of this chaos. If you keep obsessing over getting her back and competing with Brandon, you are going to destroy whatever you have left."

He leaned in closer, his tone softening with genuine concern for his friend. "It's over, Julian. You need to sign those divorce papers, face this legal storm, and move on. Rebuild your own life before there's nothing left of you to save.”

I slammed my crystal glass down onto the table so hard the scotch splashed over the rim, soaking into the polished wood.

"No," I growled, my voice low, dangerous, and dripping with absolute defiance. "No fucking way, Marcus."

Marcus didn't flinch. He just sat there, looking at me with those calm, analytical eyes, but I was practically vibrating with rage.

"I am not letting her go," I spat out, leaning across the booth, my jaw clenched so tight it felt like it might snap. "You want me to just pack up my life, sign some papers, and hand my family over to Brandon on a silver platter? After everything I've bled for? After everything we built?"

"Julian, look at yourself—"

"I don't care how it looks," I barked, cutting him off before he could throw another lecture in my face.

"Aria is my woman. Amelia is my daughter. I made mistakes, Marcus—I know I fucked up with Leonie, I know I let things fall apart. But Brandon didn't save them. He stole them. He swooped in when I was down, used his money and his security teams to isolate Aria from me, and now he thinks he can slowly erase me from their lives."

Marcus rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a long, heavy sigh. "Julian, she chose to leave. She went to him—"

"Because she was hurt," I slammed my fist against the leather cushion. "Because I let a snake like Leonie poison everything. But Leonie is gone now, Marcus. She’s a fugitive, she’s out of the picture. The only obstacle standing between me and my family right now is Brandon."

I picked up my glass, tossing back the remaining burn of the scotch in one sharp gulp. The liquid hit my chest like liquid fire, feeding the dark, desperate resolve that had been taking root in my soul all day.

"He took half my captaincy today," I muttered, staring blankly at the empty glass in my hand, my eyes unfocusing as the alcohol mixed with pure obsession. "He threatened me in that hallway. He thinks he’s won. But I’m not backing down. I don't give a damn about the legal storms, I don't give a damn about my father's threats, and I sure as hell don't care about Brandon's corporate power."

I looked up at Marcus, my vision slightly blurred, but my focus was lethal. "I am getting Aria back," I said, every word laced with a possessive, terrifying finality. "Even if I have to burn everything else to the ground to do it.”