Chapter 35 - The Confession by the Fire
The salon was dead silent. The rain hammered relentlessly against the tall windows, matching the turbulent darkness inside the room.
Julian stood with his back to Francesca, staring into the roaring fireplace. His shoulders, usually so broad and invincible, were bowed under an invisible, crushing weight.
"Is it true?" Francesca asked, her voice cracking slightly despite her best efforts. "Julian. Look at me."
Julian slowly turned around. The polished mask of the untouchable Italian billionaire was completely shattered. In his eyes, Francesca saw a pain so deep, so ancient, that it rendered her breathless.
"I didn't start the fire, Francesca," Julian whispered, his voice trembling. "I swear on my soul, on everything I am, on every breath I take... I did not kill my father."
Francesca walked toward him, stopping just inches away. "Then what happened that night in St. Moritz? Why did your mother write that letter? Why does Christian believe you tried to murder him?"
Julian closed his eyes, exhaling a long, shuddering breath. "My father was a tyrant. A cruel, abusive man who gambled away our mother’s fortune and terrorized our family behind closed doors. Christian... Christian was his favorite, because Christian inherited his cruelty. That night, Christian and my father got into a violent argument over the London accounts. Christian had embezzled fifty million euros to pay off gambling cartels in Macau."
Julian opened his eyes, glistening with unshed tears. "My father threatened to disinherit him completely. Christian lost his mind. He poured gasoline across the library and set the curtains ablaze. When the flames exploded, my father was trapped. I tried to drag Christian out, but the ceiling collapsed. I pulled Christian through the snow, burning my own arms to keep him alive. But our mother... she arrived just as the roof caved in. In her shock and grief, in her broken mind, she saw me standing by the flames. She convinced herself that I was the one who struck the match."
Francesca’s hand reached out, gently cupping Julian’s cheek. His skin was burning, his jaw trembling under her touch. "And Aurelia?" she asked softly. "Who is Aurelia, Julian?"
Julian leaned into her palm, a tear finally escaping and tracing a path down his cheek. "Christian never loved Clara. Clara was a gentle, terrified girl whom Christian kept locked in a flat in London. When Clara became pregnant, Christian told her he would sell the baby to a black-market adoption ring in Eastern Europe to clear his debts. Clara managed to escape to Milan. She came to me, begging for help. She died giving birth to Aurelia."
Julian looked into Francesca’s eyes with raw, desperate sincerity. "I promised Clara on her deathbed that Christian would never touch that little girl. I took Aurelia, I forged the records, and I created a wall of steel around her life. I lied to you, Francesca... because I was terrified that if you knew the blood and madness that ran through this family, you would look at me the way everyone else did. Like a monster."
Francesca looked at the man before her—the man who had shielded an innocent child from a monster, who had carried the burden of his family's sins in silence for over two decades.
May you like
"You should have told me," Francesca said, her voice fierce and unyielding. "Because you are not alone anymore, Julian. We are partners. We are husband and wife. And no one—not Christian, not Nicole, and certainly not Jason Vance—is taking our daughter."
---
