My hands clench the armrest, puncturing the soft cushion with my acrylic nails. Navy blue smears on the canvas like a spill. Random clusters of white paint form anything you can think of. It's like a painting meant to cater to our emotions. Dead leaves fall to the bottom of the page — sadness, confusion, anger. Everything bottled into one.

"Is everything prepared for my sister's funeral?" Damien asks, inhaling his scotch as if it was water.

I never took Damien for a person with feelings, but losing his sister warranted a foundering response. While I didn't have ill feelings for Paola, I didn't perceive her as the glue to hold the family together. Younger siblings are special like that — you either die for them or spend your whole life feuding with them.

I'm not sure which category I stand in with my brothers.

Probably the lather.

"Yes," Julian says, decked out in his usual black attire that perfectly fits a funeral's scenery. "It's almost time for the ceremony. Probably should head out."

Damien nods, pursing his lips. "Probably right."

Wrapping paper crinkles as I hoist myself up with the bouquet of roses in my hands. They're purple-- Paola's favorite color. The roses are enormous, covering most of my face from the sheer size. Goosebumps erupt on my skin when Julian places his palm on my lower back, leading me out of the room.

Ugh.

I hate how my body reacts like that.

I still haven't forgotten his betrayal.

I just wished my body remembered.

"Oh," Julian says, the spewing warmth disappearing when he removes his hand. "The new living arrangements? Am I supposed to bring Isabela to the penthouse?"

A sigh departs from his lips. "Tesoro, head to the car. The adults have some talking to do."

My stomach churns with disdain as I sport the fakest smile I can muster. "Of course, buttercup. I wouldn't want to disappoint you on the day of you paying regards to your sister."

My teeth grind against each other-- I'm sure they're getting sharper by the second. Sometimes I wished I was the one who died instead. I don't want to sound like I'm giving up, but treating Damien with respect guides me closer and closer to the ledge. For relief, I grasp the spikey vine without the sanctuary of the wrapping paper.

Pain circulates through my hand. My grip constricts until the pang becomes numb. Until it loses its purpose. My stilettos click as I stroll out the door. Blood shapes a path as I go. I pretend to listen to Damien's command as I linger by the cracked door. There's no one here to tattle on me except for Julian, and it might be silly of me to put faith in him again, but I won't be treated like a baby.

"I don't want Isabela in the penthouse." Damien clears his throat, dropping an octave. "Or in this country. That attack was a close call. If she's by my side, she will be at risk. I brought her a little cottage on the skirts of the city of Atlanta. It's only until our wedding or when matters wrap up. Whichever comes first. It's in your best interest to watch over her."

"I can do that."

Damien taps on his wooden desk with his knuckles. "Don't get too excited. There will be weekly visits. I can't jeopardize our bond as a couple, but space is needed before marriage."

My eyes narrow. A bond? If he means wanting to stake a knife into his heart, then sure. Living in a cottage. Alone with Julian-- how will I survive? He's better than Damien, but at what cost? Julian will sing like a canary when Damien does his daily check-ins and tarnish any chance of getting out of here. But a house is a step forward.

"What about what we discussed the other day?" Julian asks, piquing my interest enough to almost peek through the door.

Damien burps. "What exactly? My mind is a bit foggy after all this vodka."

"Isabela's enrollment." My heart skips a beat. "I'd overheard your arrangements for Isabela and filled all the paperwork. All she needs is a payment. I've done my job to secure her safety during her sessions. I will be going with her."

Why is he sticking out his neck for me? I don't understand. I've been giving him the cold shoulder ever since that night. What is he playing at? What's his angle? There's no way Julian is doing this out of the goodness of his heart. Honestly, I suspect his chest is heartless.

He clicks his tongue. "I don't know. What has she done to deserve it? She's going to think she has something fucking over me. I'll glock that bitch before she utters a word."

"Think about it," Julian starts. "She will be indebted to you. If you offer her something as simple as education, she will comply with the marriage. Isabela would be grateful to be your wife."

That's all I need to hear. He's smooth-talking his way into Damien's ear. It's genius. Everything makes sense. Julian is a man, and if he can manipulate an egotistical man like Damien, then it should be like stealing candy from a baby for me. Women always have more to offer than our minds.

Sitting in the car, I dangle my finger over the fresh cuts on my hand. It's bumpy and swollen--dry blood on my fingertips. My head rests against the window, the sun radiating on my face. It's my first day of sunshine since the attack, and I'm craving the warmth. This is the only form of vitamin D I ever want. Bright, yellow, and massive.

I slightly nudge my head when the door cracks open, and Julian hops into his seat. My windpipes tighten. Suddenly, it's like I'm in the Sahara desert, desperate for a bottle of water. Julian scrolls the radio dial, filling the interior with soft hues of pop music. It's impossible to resist the urge to tap my foot to the tone of the melody.

"I like to think we're mourning Button's premature death. I'm sorry," Julian says, his arm reaching into the backseat. "There's no way to replace him, but I hope this minimizes the pain."

Button. He's like an animatic version of Mika. Someone-- something that's been with me since the beginning. He isn't real--I'm not a child, but he was the only thing I had in the dungeon. A part of my sanity resides with him. There's no way I would've survived the grueling months handcuffed without him.

We can't replace Button, and Julian doesn't. The stuffed bunny is itty-bitty in his hands, posing on his palm with a signature ribbon around its neck and wrists-- like mine. My finger flicks at the tips of the ribbon on my wrists. Is she supposed to be me? A white, fluffy bunny with a baby-pink nose and a bucket hat on its head. Her ears, the length of the car floor.

It's precious.

But why is he doing this?

First, my enrollment, now a gift to substitute Button?

Julian licks his lips. "There's no catch. I promise."

My eyes narrow like the side of a nickel. "You understand why I can't believe a word you say."

He sways his head back and forth. "Yes. I guess this means Cuddles is in the doggy house." His lips curve to a scowl as he secures Cuddles in her cushion. "I never took the opportunity to say sorry for how things turned out that night."

Julian shifts the gear to the parking icon, and the car vibrates from the friction coming from my leg. It's an instinct to rock my leg, especially when I'm tense. I don't know why. It's not Damien in the car with me. It's Julian-- my bodyguard, basically a shadow. Barely human. He hasn't shown any sign of human emotions in weeks.

"Miss Aria." His tone is gentle, silky, and my chest constricts from all the warmth exhaling from the heater. "I know it's going to take more than a teddy bear to fix everything between us and I haven't given up trying. Days, weeks, years-- I will make things right."

"However long it takes?"

He taps his fingers on the cushion of my car seat. "However long it takes."

A tsunami of unanswered questions swarms me like water. His confidence, persistence, grit drifts off his body like a new scent. Why does he want to correct his wrongdoings? He isn't the first or the last human that will be a disappointment. There's no point in developing a bond with a guy who isn't permanent.

I scoff, peering at the roses in my lap. "Don't bother. It's going to take a lifetime for me to forgive you. My brothers always said I held the longest grudges in the family."

He shrugs shamelessly. "Lucky for you-- I know a thing or two about being stubborn. Hard-headed was my second name as a child."

Ignoring my best judgment, laughter departs from my lips. "Really? I would have gone for pedestrian."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, causing a dangerous swell between my thighs. Shitzuis. Our bodies are supposed to be our temples, but why is my mind acting all out of wack? Julian doesn't deserve to obtain a reaction unless it ends with me vomiting all over him.

"It's nice to warrant a conversation long enough to get more than five words from you," Julian says, leaning over my thighs, his elbows grazing my skin and magnifying the clenching of my thighs. "Believe me or not, but life isn't the same without listening to your voice."

I toss him a coy wink. "Yeah. I have that effect on people."

It's easy to act as if my walls weren't being demolished by the minute, but the truth is-- one more swing, and I'll be wide open. I don't want to be seen as easy. That's why I need to put on a fight, a facade. I'm the only person in this equation that loses if our friendship goes sour. Days like this make me miss Rocco.

It's not common, but with Rocco-- there's a clear line.

The same line exists between Julian and me, but something is radiating about it. We have the exact rules to follow, but Julian isn't Rocco. His actions aren't invisible to me. Like Cuddles behind me. Only Julian would understand the purpose of my teddy bear-- we share too many similarities.

It's like he's been dealt my god-awful hand too.

"Are you okay after that night?" He pulls his bottom lip in his mouth and averts his gaze out the windshield, nodding after a moment as he meets my gaze. "It must've been traumatic to witness all those dead bodies."

I shake my head. "It's nothing I haven't been exposed to before." My fingers tug on the petals of the roses. "My father is Vicenzo Arias, the Boss of the leading familias in New York. Death has always followed me. I'm not afraid to stare death in the face, but I'm terrified to be the cause of it."

A hard swallow enhances the harsh lines of his throat. "I heard stories about him. Violent ones. Doesn't sound like a good man. Can't imagine what it's like growing up with him as a father."

My throat tightens as my gaze plunges to my hands. "You wouldn't want to know, but it's not very much different from living with Damien. My Dad always said women were just a piece of property, but I didn't want to believe it."

Sadness crawls through my body, leaving a residue like a slug on my skin. I hated thinking about my past, present, or even the future. While Damien left physical scars, my father's torture scars my soul. Nothing changes. In every pattern, I'm still a girl indebted to someone. Only purpose is to be used the way women have for centuries.

Everyone loves the idea of being the daughter of the boss until they receive one as horrific as my father. No amount of money was worth the things he put me through. Sometimes, I think this was my mother's punishment for taking her life to live mine-- suffering years at the hands of my dad.

"The birth control mishap was a misunderstanding," Julian says, flicking the cover on the steering wheel. "I'm not trying to minimize my involvement in the matter. He just needed confirmation, and if he couldn't get it from someone, he would've beaten you to a pulp."

My stomach tingles with butterflies, swerving up and down, colliding with the walls as Julian drags his thumb pad across my jawline, angling my chin to face him. "I couldn't bear to see another black eye. Miss Arias, I swear to the fucking moon-- everything I'm doing is in your best interest. Now, with our distance from Damien-- I'm completely yours. I'll do anything you want of me."

"H-How?" My words get clogged up in my throat. "How can I trust you won't spill everything to Damien? I have nothing to offer you. I don't sign your checks. I'm just the useless wife, like Damien said."

"That's not true." It's barely a whisper, but it stings my core. "You're so much more than that, and now is your opportunity to find her. We're all lost souls sometimes. I'm still searching."

"For what?" I whisper, my heart pounding against my ribcage, my mind hazy from the endorphins and proximity.

Julian blinks, licking his bottom lip. "I'm not sure. I don't always have the answers. You are not the only one who's lost, but you will be the first person who knows when I find my calling."

My cheeks burn instantly as I realize where my name stands on his list of priorities. Top spot. How did I get bumped to the top? Julian has to have a family member that deserves that place. I don't know what to say. All I want is a clear sign of trust or distrust between us.

"You should go in." Julian's gaze floats over to the building behind me.

A line of confusion mars between my eyebrows. "W-why?" Peeking over my shoulder, I drink in the massive windows on the side of the buildings with a plus sign on top. "Why are we at a clinic?"

"To make up for what you lost," Julian says, unbuckling my seatbelt. "I scheduled an appointment for a consultant. It's my fault, but the very least I can do is help the risks of producing kids."

Holy flying fudge. If I wasn't so frustrated with myself and Julian-- I would've dived into his lap and hugged him. But I'm contradicting myself. He can't win my forgiveness so easily. The anguish he inflicted on me is worth more than a teddy bear and an appointment. I'm immensely grateful, but I'm not going to walk in with my eyes closed this time.

"Thank you."

How sweet of Julian 🙊☺️☺️ he's really trying to make up for what she lost that night. Do you guys think he has done enough or more to earn her trust back?

What do you think Julian's calling is 👀? What about Isabela? Is it together or apart? 🙈😂😂

Side note— guys I'm struggling to find songs for these chapters. Let me know if you have any good ideas for them! I love to hear it!

Thank you for getting tainted hearts to almost 30k reads like that's literally insane! I'm so grateful for you guys and I hope you guys continue with me on this journey!!

Love ya ❤️💜❤️