Goldsin (The Chrysophilist Trilogy Book 1)
Goldsin: Chapter 18

I smile at the guards stationed outside the Harrows’ penthouse and make my way toward Julian’s bedroom.

After leaving the restaurant and saying goodbye to Eleanora and Emeric as they ventured off into the night together, I couldn’t shake the need coursing through me to share what I did with Julian.

Having someone besides Valentine to talk to about this hidden side of my life feels exhilarating. I want to see Julian’s face when I tell him how I left Marcus lying on the floor in his feces.

Julian and I planned for me to kill Marcus in the bathroom with the silenced gun, and to make it quick: in, shoot, out. But I couldn’t make it so easy for Marcus to pay for his sins. I needed more than to just make him bleed.

I needed to humiliate him. The laxative—that part of the plan was my own little touch.

The silent hallways seem to stretch out. I can almost hear my own heartbeat with how quiet it is.

It’s not surprising. This place has always been eerie. Elegant, but fucking terrifying. And not because of the monsters residing in it, but because they always seem to be goading me with stories of my mother.

These walls witnessed her undoing.

If only they could speak.

Dusting off invisible lint from my outfit, I’m opening his bedroom door without knocking when a piercing scream tears through the penthouse. My breath gets stuck in my throat, the sudden sound startling me as I whirl around.

I peek back through the hallway, but it’s deserted.

No guards running around. Nothing.

Deciding to check it out, I give the bedroom a quick glimpse too, making sure Julian isn’t in there. Then, with hesitant steps, I search for the owner of such an icy howl. I could almost make out the scream calling Julian’s name, but I’m not so sure. The voice was too distorted as it echoed down the halls.

What if the voice did scream Julian’s name? What if he’s in danger? What if he needs me?

I quicken my pace, head turning left and right.

Fear threatens to consume me as I speed through the corridor. Images of Julian, hurt, overtake me. As much as I try not to let it, this dreaded feeling takes root inside of me, flooding my mind with worst-case scenarios.

I need to replace him now and make sure he’s all right.

He can’t be hurt . . . he just can’t be.

The kitchen is empty, the only light coming from the city skyline. Appliances are lined up on the counter ready for tomorrow’s breakfast, stacks of oranges piled one on top of the other. The room emits serenity, nothing like the scream I just heard.

I inhale a ragged breath.

Maybe I heard wrong. Maybe Julian’s fine and isn’t home yet. Maybe, just maybe, I was wrong.

Even with the new mantra I keep repeating to myself, I can’t shake the terrible feeling something is wrong.

God, why did I think it was best to stop at my apartment and leave the gun there before coming here? The one time I might need it to do good and I don’t have it with me.

I’m turning the corner when I catch a faint light coming from the end of the corridor. Like a beacon warning me.

Drawing closer, I feel the air in the atmosphere shift. The closer I get, the heavier the air gets. It’s not until the double doors are in front of me that I remember the last time I was in Lucian’s office.

Fear. It’s so palpable I could choke on it.

What if Julian isn’t the one in need of help? What if it’s someone else? Someone like my mom . . .

I creep closer. The scream is on repeat in my mind. With each one I hear, the voice distorts, becoming more haunted. More tortured.

I just need to replace out what’s going on.

The door to Lucian’s office is slightly ajar, enough for me to see Julian’s fist in the air as it aims for his father’s face. Enough for me to see Lady Harrow’s body getting touched by a man I’ve never seen before as he holds her with a hand in her hair, pulling her head toward his chest. Her body arches as she tries not to touch him, but this only causes him to see it as an invitation to touch more. And more.

My throat swells, hand clutching my chest to remind myself to breathe.

Even with everything happening to her, she pleads with Julian to do nothing. To just stand there and let whatever they have in mind happen.

She pleads with him with tears running down her cheeks, the word “help” shining in her eyes.

Why are you letting him treat you this way? Why aren’t you fighting back?

“See how weak you are, boy?” Lucian tells him. “Just like your mother.”

But Julian isn’t weak. He doesn’t look it as he forces himself to stay still. Forces himself to follow his mom’s wishes and maintain control.

He looks the opposite of weak. Even with the dullness in his eyes and the paleness of his sheer skin, he is not weak.

“Go ahead—have your fun with her.”

Then the buttons of Lady Harrow’s blouse fly all over the place as the man rips it off her. His hands, greedy to explore, roam her now bare skin.

Squeezing, scratching, bruising her.

I can’t . . . I can’t just stare and do nothing.

My hand falls on the doorknob, twisting it for support, but a weight pulls me back. Before I can make a move, a firm arm wraps around my chest and a hand claps over my mouth.

“If you care about Julian, don’t interfere. If our father learns he cares about someone else too, he’ll start using you against him,” Adrian whispers in my ear.

Tears pool in the gap between my face and his hand, blurring my vision as his words sink in.

“Look at her, Julian. This is the price of your weakness,” I hear Lucian say as I struggle to breathe through my nose.

I feel a shiver run up my spine from the way Adrian’s body trembles against my back. He clenches his arm around me, holding me closer to him. I know he isn’t doing this to console me, but to use me as a shield to protect himself.

“Oh, grow some balls!” Lucian’s hand falls over Julian’s groin, and he squeezes, feeling him as he drives his point home. Adrian winces behind me—slightly, but enough for me to notice.

A breath hiccups out of me, silenced by Adrian’s hand as I feel a pulsing form at my temple.

Stop! Don’t fucking touch him! I want to scream. I want to throw myself in there and make him stop.

“Please,” I choke, my voice muffled by his hand.

“Trust me, I want to help them as much as you do, but we can’t risk making things worse,” is all Adrian says. It sounds like he’s suppressing his emotions about what’s happening before our eyes.

I keep my gaze on Julian, spotting the way his whole demeanor shifts when he twists around and punches his father in the face.

“Julian!” Lady Harrow screams.

Adrian’s hold on me tightens, almost to the point of cutting off my air supply—except I’m already holding my breath. He’s clearly startled by Julian’s unexpected reaction too, anticipating the consequences.

“That will cost her a lot, son.” Lucian turns to him, a crooked, bloodied smile in place.

Shock coils around my heart, and I flinch back into Adrian, suppressing a scream as Lady Harrow gets punched in the face. She falls to the ground, sobs wrenching from her wobbling lips.

I can feel Adrian’s muscles stiffening as he watches his mother on the ground, defeated. His breathing is labored, his chest rising and falling in sync with my quickened heartbeat.

Nausea coils its way up. Julian falls to the floor alongside her, and I feel my legs give out too. If not for Adrian holding me, I’d be on my knees with him. I’d be by his side, lending him the strength he needs to fight back. To stop his father once and for all.

To help Lady Harrow.

To kill these psychos, like I’m doing with my mother’s demons.

My vision blurs with fresh tears as I watch Julian’s body shake.

And shake.

And shake.

His eyes are glued to his mom, mine on the boy I love as he crumbles in despair.

I can almost hear his shredded apologies.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

His silent words reach me. I hear him despite the deafening chaos of the room. All I want is to go to him, hold him, give him hope.

Then Lucian’s hands land on Julian’s shoulder and he pulls him back to his feet.

“Why the fuck are you so soft for her?” he asks him, nose scrunching. “Is it because you want to fuck her?”

I fight back the noise that threatens to come out of me. With trembling fingers, I grip Adrian’s arm for support instead, feeling his pulse throb under my fingertips.

His hand around my mouth slips a little with all the tears rolling down my cheeks. Or maybe from his weakening resolve to remain in place and not help.

“Answer me!”

I flinch in Julian’s place. How can a father say something like that? How can any of this be happening right now?

How is Adrian just standing here witnessing it all without doing something?

“Fuck. You,” Julian spits back at him.

A chuckle leaves Lucian’s lips, and I blink a few times to make sure I’m seeing correctly. Lady Harrow’s pants are being unbuttoned as she thrashes around. The blouse she was wearing before now lies on the floor, wrinkled and forgotten.

I don’t think I can do it anymore. I start to shake too, my body begging me to run inside.

“You think she’s worth anything? Look at her. She’s just a vessel for my seed. A plaything for men like us.”

My nails dig into Adrian’s arm at his words. Red stains his pristine skin as I dig harder. Something inside of me breaks, shattering as it mixes with pure rage and hopelessness.

“I am nothing like you.”

I don’t hear anything else. Not when I’m fighting to keep myself from crashing.

Something boils in me to the point of utter defeat, as if everything Julian is feeling is getting sucked out of him and stored in me. I’m paralyzed as I watch him seethe at his father for the way he treats his mother, while his mother loses parts of herself she’ll never get back.

Is this what being a child is like? Is this what having parents looks like?

Valentine isn’t my real dad, but he would punch anyone who dared touch me. Not the other way around.

They gave him life just to play with it. Why?

The man pushes Lady Harrow away, making her stumble on her feet and fall to the floor, before heading toward us.

In a second Adrian has me shuffling on my feet to keep up with him as he maneuvers me with his hand clutched around my wrist.

We pass by the framed art on the walls, but all I see are the images swirling in red from the office, Lucian’s words taunting in bold letters as they dance around Julian and Lady Harrow’s faces.

Blinded by the memory of what happened not even five minutes ago, I don’t notice where Adrian is guiding me until I replace myself in the middle of one of the three living rooms—the one farthest from Lucian’s office.

Shoving Adrian in the chest, I free myself from his grip. “What is wrong with you?” I pant, my hands furiously rubbing at the new set of fresh tears as they roll down, smudging my mascara even further. “How could you just stand there and do nothing?” I shout, voice trembling with suppressed sobs.

His lips are parted, breath held, as he stares at me, seconds away from losing it . . .

And he does. The composed, calculated Adrian finally loses control. His hands ruin his perfectly styled hair as he pulls at the strands. Different emotions flash behind his eyes at me.

He tugs his tie loose and then sinks onto the couch, hanging his head between his shoulders as his leg bounces up and down, up and down.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand!”

He lifts his head. I expect there to be anger at the tone I used, but instead he looks wrecked.

“You want to know why I didn’t help them?” His voice gets louder, jaw clenching slightly. “Because the only way to protect them is by staying out of it. You think what you saw in there is bad?” He shakes his head. “Imagine what he’d do to you, knowing you mean something to Julian.”

“That’s it? You’re protecting them by doing nothing?” I cross my arms over my chest, needing the smallest sense of comfort.

Adrian stands, circling the perimeter of the room as he says, “It’s not that simple. There’s so much more going on than what you saw tonight.”

My voice finally breaks. “Then tell me!” I cry out.

He glares at me, hating me for pulling the next words out of him.

“Our father has always treated our mother like crap,” Adrian begins while he walks up and down the room, glancing my way here and there when he loses control over his words, spilling everything to me. “He never saw her as anything more than a thing he could use. He would use her to secure new business ties. He would . . . share her with other men.”

He hesitates for a moment, tracking the tears silently falling down my eyes. “Their marriage was arranged, but I don’t think my mother ever expected it to be this bad. I even think she loved him once, but that must have lasted a week.”

“And Julian?” My voice trembles as I push further.

He swallows hard, his hands clenching. “Julian has always stood up for our mother, ever since he was a little kid, and our father hates him for it. I learned early on that if I wanted to help her, I needed to stay quiet, but Julian could never do that. He would always get between them, even if it meant getting himself hurt. Then, one year, Julian started throwing punches back, and since Lucian couldn’t get to Julian with force, he started using our mother in retaliation, hurting her when Julian defied him.”

“We need to stop him, Adrian.” I take a step toward him, hoping he understands how important it is that we do. “We can’t let this continue.”

It feels like he’s about to agree with me; like something’s switched inside of him.

But then darkness pools in his eyes, his brows meeting in the middle, and he says, “Stay away from Julian. From this family.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. I feel disgusted at how easily he can pretend like everything is okay, changing the focus of this conversation onto me.

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think? This is the closest fucked-up thing to a family I have.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

I can’t tell if it’s a warning or a promise.

“I don’t fear death.” My expression hardens.

He cracks a smile as he flicks his gaze to the side before steadily saying, “You’re going to get him killed.”

My heart freezes, muscles going taut at the thought of something happening to Julian.

I don’t think I could forgive myself.

At my silence Adrian turns to leave, but I call out one last thing, not yet done with the conversation.

“That’s where you have it wrong.”

He looks at me over his shoulder.

“I can’t kill someone who’s been slowly dying all this time.”

His shoulder muscles twitch. So I thrust the knife deeper.

“You see, Adrian, your brother’s been dying every day that you’ve let this mistreatment go on.”

This time I’m the one to leave.

I don’t even check to see if I might run into Lucian. All I care about is replaceing Julian. But when I reach his room and open the door, I don’t replace him there.

Where are you?

Murmuring reaches my ears. Knowing he must be nearby, I follow the voices. The closer I get, the more I can make out Julian’s voice, soft and soothing.

I reach Lady Harrow’s bedroom and see him gently brushing his mother’s hair as she sits in front of her vanity.

“Everything is all right now,” he reassures her as he untangles the hair from the mess the man made before attempting to braid its short length. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

Julian gives her a hand, and she reaches for it, standing up. He helps her take some pills before bed. They exchange more whispered words, then he caresses the top of her head, eyes watchful over her as she drifts off into a deep sleep.

It feels strange seeing him like this.

So gentle. So tender.

The Ripper who cuts throats . . . he looks nothing like the intimidating Julian Harrow everyone fears.

After a while he makes his way back to his room, and I hide in the shadows. I don’t want him to see me. I don’t know how he’d react if he knew what I saw happen tonight.

He enters his room, and without bothering to take a shower or change his clothes, he collapses onto his bed.

And he stays like that, surrounded by darkness, unmoving on his bed, for hours.

You take care of her, but who takes care of you?