A stack of thick, cream-colored legal papers slammed into Julian’s chest, the sharp edges scratching his neck before scattering across the scuffed linoleum floor of the kitchen.He didn't even flinch, but his knuckles turned bone-white as he gripped the edge of the counter he’d just spent two hours scrubbing."Sign them, you useless parasite," Eleanor Sterling spat, adjusting the heavy diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist—a gift from her daughter's new boyfriend."And hurry up. Damien is picking Madison up in ten minutes for their anniversary dinner, and I don't want your depressing aura ruining her mood."Madison didn't even look at him.She was too busy fixing her lipstick in the reflection of the microwave door, acting like Julian was nothing more than a piece of cheap furniture she was finally throwing out."Just sign the damn papers, Julian. We both know this marriage has been a joke for three years. You cook, you clean, and you hide in the garage when my friends come over. It’s

Trent’s champagne flute stopped halfway to his mouth, the expensive liquor sloshing over the rim and staining his French cuff, but he didn't even notice. He just stared at Julian like he was a cockroach that had crawled onto his plate."What the fuck are you doing here?" Trent barked, his face twisting into an ugly sneer as he quickly stepped in front of Julian, blocking his path to the showroom floor. "Did you get lost on the way to the homeless shelter, or did you come here to beg for a handout?"The blonde girl clinging to Trent's arm giggled, covering her mouth with a manicured hand. "Babe, is this the ex? The one who works as a paramedic? He smells like cheap soap and desperation."The dealership manager, a slick guy named Vance, frowned and stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over Julian’s wrinkled jacket and scuffed boots with open disgust. "Mr. Sterling, is this guy bothering you? I can have security throw him out before he scares off the other clients."Julian didn't look at T

The thick, black sludge hit the asphalt with a wet smack, and the sickening smell of rotting copper instantly filled the air.Evelyn screamed, scrambling backward on her hands and knees, her pristine business suit soaking up the puddle of leaked motor oil without her even noticing."Grandpa! Oh my god, he poisoned him! You killed him!"Dr. Hayes was laughing hysterically from the ground, pointing a shaky, oil-stained finger at Julian while he scrambled for his phone."I told you! I fucking told you! Arrest this psycho before he finishes the job! He just injected him with some street poison!"The crowd of onlookers was murmuring in pure horror, and a few people actually started pulling out their phones to record what they thought was a murder in progress.The flashing lights of the police cruisers were finally pushing through the gridlock, the sirens deafening in the tight intersection.But Julian didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look at the screaming doctor or the terrified granddaughter

The heavy silence in the VIP lounge was suffocating, broken only by the soft hum of the central air conditioning and the ragged breathing of the Sterling family.Damien Croft stared at the piece of paper in his hand, his brain completely short-circuiting as he tried to process the impossible words printed on the page."This is a fucking joke," Damien finally snarled, his face twisting into an ugly mask of rage as he slammed the document onto the glass table."Apex Horizon? Julian Cross? Don't make me laugh, Richard. That broke-ass paramedic doesn't have two dimes to rub together, let alone forty-five million in liquid capital to buy out a commercial mortgage. You’re being scammed."Trent immediately puffed out his chest, stepping forward to loom over the trembling club manager."Yeah, you better check your sources, you incompetent hack. Julian is a literal gutter rat who just got divorced. He probably forged this document to mess with us. Call the bank right now and tell them to rever

Damien’s smirk was sharp enough to cut glass, but the two meat-shields flanking him were what really gave his hand away.They moved with that heavy, rolling gait of guys who actually killed people for a living, not just talked about it on the internet.The gravel crunched under their expensive leather shoes as they stepped closer, completely blocking Julian’s path to the mansion doors."You think a few million dollars and a neat little medical trick makes you untouchable in this city?" Damien sneered, adjusting his cuffs to hide the fact that his hands were actually shaking."The Moretti family doesn't care about your bank account, Julian. By tomorrow, they’re going to feed you to the harbor rats, and I’ll be the one watching."Julian didn’t even raise his voice, and he didn't take a step back.He just looked at the two thugs with the same dead, bored expression he used when looking at a stain on the floor. "You brought street muscle to a private estate. That’s a breach of contract, D