The mansion was quiet as we stepped inside, our footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. Everything smelled like leather and old books, with a hint of something darker—gunpowder, maybe. Or secrets. Justin didn't say a word as he led me through the hall. He glanced back at me a few times, his face unreadable.
Finally, he opened a door and ushered me into a room that looked like it belonged in a crime thriller—dark wood, whiskey bottles, heavy curtains. He motioned to a chair. I sat, my arms crossed, my heart still racing.
He stood across from me, hands on his hips, like he was trying to figure out where to begin. After a long silence, he finally said, "I never wanted you to see this part of me."
"Too late," I snapped. "Start explaining. Now."
He sighed and sat across from me, elbows on his knees, gaze locked on mine. "That night after prom… I never meant for it to be the last time."
My heart twisted. Prom. The last time I saw him in that black suit, his hand in mine, promising a forever that shattered hours later.
"I was supposed to meet you the next day," he continued, "but I never made it."
I swallowed, the old ache in my chest roaring back. "Why?"
"My father," he said. "He was part of something—something dangerous. He kept me away from it for most of my life, but after prom… he was gone. Killed."
I blinked. "What?"
"They said it was an accident. It wasn't. It was a hit. And I was the only heir. The only one left to take over."
I leaned back, trying to process. "Take over what?"
He looked at me like the truth itself hurt. "The mafia, Riya. My family runs one of the oldest crime families in the city. I was thrown into it overnight. They told me to cut all ties—especially with you. Because you made me weak."
My breath caught.
"But I couldn't stop thinking about you," he continued. "I followed your life from a distance. I watched you go to college. I sent you roses on your graduation… I knew you'd remember them."
I stared at him, torn between fury and heartbreak. "Why didn't you tell me any of this? You left me. No explanation. No goodbye. You broke me, Justin."
"I know," he whispered, his voice raw. "And I regret it every single day. But I did it to protect you."
"That's not your choice to make," I snapped. "You don't get to disappear and then come back like this—with guns, and kidnappings, and blood on your hands—and say it was all out of love."
"I'm not proud of what I've become," he said quietly. "But I never stopped loving you. That part of me—the real part—never changed."
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of five lost years pressing down on us.
"I don't know who you are anymore," I said softly.
He nodded. "Then let me show you. The real me. If you'll let me."
I looked at him—really looked at him. This wasn't the boy I loved at seventeen. This was a man shaped by pain, by violence, by shadows. But somewhere in those eyes, I still saw the boy who held my hand at prom and told me I was his whole world.
"I don't know if I can trust you," I said.
"Then start small," he replied. "Just don't leave yet."
"And if i decide to leave? Will you kill me? I mean i did see what i wasn't supposed to see"
Justin didn't even blink.
He took a step toward me, slow and deliberate, the weight of the room shifting with him. "Don't ask questions you don't want the real answer to, Riya."
My breath caught in my throat.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. The authority in his tone, the calm behind his words—that was more terrifying than any threat.
"You think you're the first person to see behind the curtain?" he continued, gaze locked on mine. "You're not. But you're the only one I ever let walk into this world by invitation."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Then why me?" I asked, the question barely more than a whisper.
He leaned in just enough that I could feel the heat of his breath, but not enough to touch. "Because I trust you," he said. "Which is something I don't give easily. Not anymore."
A pause.
"But don't confuse trust with mercy," he added, sharp and cool. "I'm not the boy you knew at prom. That version of me is dead. Buried with the life I lost that night."
"You don't have to talk to me like I'm one of your… soldiers," I muttered.
"I talk to everyone like this," he said simply. "Because I am the one in charge. I don't explain myself. Not to my men, not to my enemies, not to the people who whisper my name like it's a curse. But you—"
He let the word hang.
"—You're the only one who ever made me consider doing it anyway."
I swallowed hard. The room suddenly felt smaller.
"You want to leave?" he asked, voice quiet now. "You can. No one will touch you. But understand something, Riya… once you've seen the truth, it never lets you go. So ask yourself—are you really walking out? Or are you just running from something that already has its hands around your life?"
His stare burned into me.
"I didn't bring you here to scare you. I brought you here because I owe you the truth. That's more than anyone else has ever gotten from me."
He turned away, like he'd said all he needed to.
I stood there, my heart pounding, torn between the urge to bolt and the weight of the past pressing me to stay.
A maid came up to me a few minutes later saying she would lead me to my room.
I followed the maid who stopped outside a black wooden door.
I entered the room closing the door behind me.
A few hours later the maid knocked saying "excuse me miss , sir said you are to join him for dinner now"
"Tell him I'm not hungry "
I said and laid down.
An hour later Justin walks in and the maid walked in after him.
The maid dropped a tray and hastily walked back out closing the door behind her.
I glanced at him "i said i wasn't hungry "
Justin didn't say a word. He simply walked over to the small table and set the tray down like he owned the air in the room.
"You saying it doesn't mean I'm going to listen," he said coolly, turning to face me.
I pushed myself up on my elbows. "You used to."
"That was before you decided to starve yourself like a child throwing a tantrum."
My eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he said, unbuttoning his cuffs, rolling them up with slow precision. "You think skipping dinner is going to teach me a lesson? That I'll suddenly grovel for forgiveness because you're angry?"
"I'm not angry," I lied, sitting up straighter. "I'm disgusted."
"Disgusted?" he echoed, a low laugh escaping him. "Riya, I've done things that would actually disgust you. Feeding you isn't one of them."
"You think food fixes this?" I snapped. "You think dragging me into your dark little kingdom and then playing house makes it all okay?"
He walked closer. "No. I think taking care of you is the bare minimum I owe you. Even if you hate me for it."
"I don't hate you," I said through clenched teeth. "I don't know what I feel. And that scares the hell out of me."
That seemed to catch him off guard. His jaw tensed. "I'm not trying to manipulate you, Riya."
I stood up, closing the distance between us. "Aren't you? You kidnapped me. You fed me lies for years, disappeared without a word, and now you expect me to… what? Sit down like a good little girl and eat your damn steak?"
He took a step closer, eyes locked on mine. "No. I expect you to stop pretending you're not still in this with me. That you don't still feel something."
I didn't back down. "And what if I do? What does that make me, Justin? Stupid? Weak? Just another pawn in your empire?"
He shook his head. "No. It makes you mine. And that's what scares you the most, isn't it?"
The air between us crackled. My chest heaved, fury and longing warring inside me.
"You don't get to claim me," I whispered, voice shaking. "Not after everything."
He leaned in, close enough that I could feel the heat of him. "Then stop looking at me like you still want to be claimed."
Silence.
I hated how right he was. How my pulse betrayed me. How even now, part of me ached for the boy in the black prom suit, no matter the man he had become.
I turned away, jaw clenched. "Get out."
He didn't move. "Eat first."
"Get. Out."
A long pause.
Then he stepped back, turned on his heel, and walked to the door. Before leaving, he looked over his shoulder and said, "I'll be downstairs when you're done pretending you don't still love me."
The door clicked shut behind him.
And I stood there, heart slamming against my ribs, knowing damn well he wasn't wrong.
That night after midnight i walked quietly to the kitchen and as i opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, the lights flicked on. A deep voice saying
"Going somewhere?"
I yelped almost jumping as i turned to see Justin leaning against the wall with a smirk.
I felt a sebse of deja vu as I stared at him.
He always did this back in high school. He would stand beside my locker and when i closed it he would be there grinning every time i got startled.
"You always did seem to jump higher than anyone I know," Justin said, his voice softer now, touched with a memory that made my chest ache.
"Don't scare me like that," I snapped, spinning toward the fridge to hide the way my pulse was suddenly racing. "What are you even doing up?"
He took a few steps into the kitchen, barefoot and quiet like a ghost. "Couldn't sleep. Guess I had a feeling you'd come down here."
"Lucky guess."
"Not luck," he said, leaning on the counter across from me. "I know you. Still."
I turned, arms folded, clutching the water bottle like a shield. "You knew me. Past tense."
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "You really believe that?"
"I don't know what to believe anymore," I said. "Everything's upside down. You… this place… us—" I shook my head, laughing bitterly. "If there even is an 'us.'"
He took a step closer. I didn't move.
"There's always been an 'us,' Riya," he said, voice low. "Even when we were apart. Even when I was building an empire soaked in blood, and you were out there trying to live without me—I still carried you. Every day."
I blinked hard. Damn him.
"You can't just say things like that," I whispered. "It's not fair."
"I'm not here to be fair. I'm here because I'd rather face your fury than spend another night wondering what it would feel like to touch you again."
And then he was in front of me—closer than he had any right to be, heat radiating between us like lightning waiting to strike.
I didn't back away.
He looked down at me, his hand brushing against mine on the counter. "I know I don't deserve it. I know I've ruined everything. But if there's still a part of you that wonders what we could've been—"
"I never stopped wondering," I breathed.
That was all it took.
He leaned in, slow like he was giving me time to stop him, but I didn't.
I couldn't.
And then his lips were on mine—firm, aching, desperate. A kiss that tasted like five years of silence, of pain, of love buried too deep to kill.
I kissed him back.
My fingers curled into his shirt like they had muscle memory, like they'd just been waiting for this moment to return.
He pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around my waist like he was afraid I'd vanish if he let go.
When we finally broke apart, I was breathless. He rested his forehead against mine, eyes closed.
"I still love you," he whispered.
"I know," I said. "And that's the problem."