CHAPTER 22: WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT

Chapter 22

JACE MARINO

He’s here.

Julian.

I don’t know how I know at first. Maybe it’s the way the air shifts, the way noise stops meaning anything. One second I’m listening to the auctioneer drone on, Aiko’s hand resting neatly on my arm, and the next... I feel him.

The moment the auctioneer mentioned his name, I froze.

I knew something was wrong the moment I saw Enzo here.

When my eyes finally find him, everything inside me goes still.

The lights hit him in this soft, uneven way, his hair catching gold, his lips parting just slightly like he can’t breathe. He looks too real, too human, too mine in a room full of people pretending to be made of marble.

And then I see it. The hurt.

It hits me like a gunshot.

The kind of pain that makes your body forget how to move. His face doesn’t hide it; it’s raw, visible, the way only Julian can be. He’s standing there, frozen between his friends, and every part of me screams to go to him.

But I don’t move.

I can’t.

Because Aiko’s hand is still on my arm, and the announcer just said the words that ruined everything.

"Sold for one point two million dollars to Mr. Jace Marino and his fiancée."

The room claps. Cameras flash. Someone laughs too loud.

And I want to vanish.

Aiko tightens her fingers around my sleeve, nails pressing through the fabric. Just enough to remind me that she knows. That this isn’t just a performance for the room. This is a warning.

She leans in, her smile perfect for the crowd, her whisper meant for me alone.

"You’re shaking."

"I’m fine," I manage. My voice sounds like it belongs to someone else.

"You didn’t tell me he’d be here."

My throat tightens. "You don’t know him, and we don’t have that kind of conversations."

"Are you and Enzo in on this?"

Her laugh is small, cruel in its control. "Maybe Enzo wanted to remind you who you belong to."

She didn’t deny it.

I keep my face neutral for the cameras, but my hands are clenched at my sides. Every clap feels like an insult, every flash like a gun aimed at my secrets.

Julian still hasn’t moved. He’s pale, too pale. And I can see Rico and Luka hovering close, whispering urgently. He looks like he’s about to pass out.

I take a step forward.

Aiko’s grip tightens.

"Don’t," she murmurs, her smile never faltering. "You’ll make a scene. You already have."

"He’s not supposed to be here."

She tilts her head slightly, eyes still on the crowd. "And yet, here he is. Funny how fate works, isn’t it?"

There’s something chilling in her calmness. She’s known for weeks that Julian would be here today. Maybe that’s why my father agreed to send me in his place, with her

Maybe this was planned.

I stare at Julian again. Because I can’t look at him. The second our eyes lock, everything I’ve been pretending collapses.

I see confusion, heartbreak, betrayal, and something else, love, dying right there in front of me.

I take another step, but Aiko shifts closer, wrapping her arm through mine like a vice. To everyone watching. We look perfect, the picture of wealth and stability. The Marino heir and his elegant bride-to-be.

If they only knew.

If they knew that the only thing I can think about right now is how Julian used to look at me in the quiet, half asleep, half safe. How his laugh filled the room when he forgot to guard himself. How his body fit against mine like it was made for it.

And now he knows.

He knows my last name.

He knows I’m not just "Jace," the man who tutors him and calls him ciccino.

He knows I’m Marino.

And in his eyes, I can already see what that means:

He doesn’t know me at all anymore.

The applause starts to fade. People turn back to their drinks, the auctioneer moving on to the next piece, the next sale. The world keeps spinning, business as usual.

But for me, everything’s over.

I keep my posture, jaw locked, smile polite. I even nod once at the host when he gestures toward our table. But inside, my heart is thrashing, clawing, breaking.

Aiko finally releases my arm when the crowd’s attention shifts. Her tone is light, too light.

"You should go congratulate your artist," she says sweetly. "He looks... touched."

I turn to her. "You don’t know what you’re doing."

"Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing," she says, voice dipped in venom. "And so do you."

She stands, smoothing her dress. "Smile, Jace. People are watching."

I glance up and, sure enough, across the room — Enzo, flanked by his father’s men, watching with that smug, satisfied grin.

They wanted me trapped.

And now I am.

By the time I look back toward where Julian was standing, he’s gone.

His table is empty.

The crowd swallowed him before I could move. I stood there, frozen like an idiot, while Aiko smiled that perfect, practiced smile beside me. The announcer was still talking, congratulating us on the bid, on the painting, on our union.

My chest felt like it was splitting open.

Then, somewhere behind the applause, I heard it. A small disruption at the back. A noise that didn’t belong in a room like this. People murmuring. Chairs scraping.

And then someone screamed.

My blood ran cold.

I turned sharply, scanning the hall. At first, I couldn’t see what was happening, but the tension rippled through the room fast, like a spark catching dry leaves. Security moved toward the exit, and servers froze mid-step, holding their trays like shields.

Someone had collapsed.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me who. My body already knew.

Julian.

I took a step toward the crowd, but Aiko’s hand caught my arm.

"Don’t," she said quietly, her voice like silk over a blade. "Not here."

Her grip was soft, but there was warning in it. The kind that came from years of knowing exactly where to press to make someone obey.

I didn’t even look at her. "You said I should congratulate him, let go"

"You’ll make a scene," she whispered, her smile never faltering. "This family doesn’t need that kind of attention."

I turned to face her. "You think I give a damn about attention right now?" My voice came out low, almost a growl. "That’s him out there."

Her jaw twitched, just slightly. "He’s not your responsibility."

That did it.

I yanked my arm free. "You don’t control me, Aiko. You never did. And no one, no one,tells me to stay away from him."

I didn’t wait for her reply. I was already moving, pushing through the crowd, ignoring the murmurs, the confused looks, the whispers. I didn’t care.

Outside, the night air hit me like ice, but I didn’t stop. The flashing red of emergency lights painted the marble entrance in chaos. People stood in small clusters, whispering. Someone called for an ambulance.

And then I saw him.

Julian was lying on the cold steps, his face too pale under the soft glow of the chandeliers spilling from the hall. His two friends—Rico and Luka, I remembered—were kneeling beside him. One was holding his hand, the other shouting at a security guard who was trying to keep people back.

My feet moved before I could think. "Let me through."

Rico’s head snapped up immediately, his face twisting the moment he saw me. "You—stay the hell away from him."

"I just want to help."

"You’ve done enough," he spat, his voice breaking halfway through.

I stopped, hands raised slightly. My throat felt raw. "Please," I said. It wasn’t a command, not this time. It was a plea. "Let me have this. Just this one moment."

They hesitated. Luka looked torn, eyes flicking from Julian’s still body to me, then back again. Rico’s jaw tightened.

"He’s not breathing right," Luka said quietly, panic threading his voice. "I think he—"

That was all it took. I dropped to my knees beside Julian, ignoring Rico’s curse. His skin was clammy, his lips faintly blue. I brushed his hair back gently, my hands shaking.

"Julian," I whispered. "Hey. Little bear, come on. Breathe for me."

No response. Only shallow, uneven breaths.

I could hear the sirens getting closer, the rising wail of them cutting through the night. My heart was beating so fast it hurt. I pressed my forehead to his, just for a second, like maybe I could pull him back to me through sheer will.

The ambulance pulled up to the curb. Paramedics rushed over, calling instructions to one another as they knelt beside us. They pushed me back gently, taking over with quick, practiced movements—checking his pulse, his breathing, fitting an oxygen mask over his face.

I stood there, useless, trembling.

When they lifted him onto the stretcher, I followed. Rico blocked my path again. "You’re not coming."

"Try to stop me," I said, my voice low but deadly calm.

Luka stepped between us before Rico could reply. "Let him come," he said, not looking at either of us. "If Julian wakes up and he’s not there, he’ll be worse."

Rico didn’t like it, but he didn’t argue. He just glared at me as the paramedics loaded Julian into the ambulance.

I climbed in after them, taking the empty seat by his side. My hands were still shaking. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He looked too fragile, too small, like if I breathed too hard, he’d vanish.

As the siren wailed and the city lights streaked past the window, I felt it, the one thing I never thought I’d feel.

Fear.

Not the kind that comes with enemies or guns or family obligations.

But the kind that comes when the one person who makes you feel human might slip away.

I reached out and took his hand, cold and limp in mine. "You’re going to be fine," I whispered. "You hear me? You’re going to wake up, yell at me, tell me I’m an idiot, just—please" my voice cracks

No response.

I pressed my lips to his knuckles, swallowing hard. "Please."

I don’t want to lose him before I could even tell him the truth.

The rest of the ride blurred. The shouting, the rush of doctors when we arrived, the blur of white lights and sterile air. They took him inside, and I followed until someone stopped me at the double doors.

"Sir, you can’t go in there."

I opened my mouth to argue, but my voice broke before I could say anything. The door swung shut in my face.

So I stood there, numb, in the cold fluorescent light of the hallway, blood still singing in my ears.

And for the first time in my life. In all the years of pretending to be untouchable, unshakable.

I felt powerless.