Elena's POV
The house had fallen into a hush.
Anna had gone upstairs hours ago, too exhausted to argue. The lights were dimmed. The kitchen was spotless. And I sat on the edge of the couch, wrapped in a blanket, legs pulled close to my chest.
Julian stood near the window, shirt sleeves rolled, tie gone, hands tucked into his pockets—just watching the city. Or maybe watching me through the reflection.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.
I shook my head. "I tried."
He nodded like he understood. And I think he did—better than anyone.
For a long time, neither of us said a word. Just the low hum of silence. Comfortable, but charged.
"Julian," I said quietly. "How did you get the backup?"
He turned then, leaning against the window frame. "You don't want to know."
"Maybe I do."
His gaze didn't waver. "Some favors cost more than others. This one? Worth it."
I swallowed hard. "You didn't owe me that."
"I didn't do it because I owed you."
My throat tightened.
