The possessiveness in his voice should have bothered me. After discovering I'd been treated like property by my own family, I should have recoiled from anyone claiming ownership of me in any way.
Instead, I felt something inside me settle, like puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. Julian's protection wasn't about controlling me—it was about valuing me enough to fight for my safety, my freedom, my dignity.
I squeezed his hand back, managing a small smile despite the emotional rollercoaster of the day. "Taking the Montgomery name is starting to look like the best decision I ever made."
Julian's expression softened further, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that almost-smile I was coming to recognize and treasure. "Let's go, Connor. Jake is waiting for us upstairs in the lab."
Lab?
Chapter Nine
~ Julian ~
I held Connor's hand in the private elevator as we ascended to Jake's lab, feeling each tremor that passed through his fingers despite his attempt at casual posture.
The slight tensing of his shoulders, the barely perceptible quickening of his breathing—all of it betrayed an anxiety he was trying desperately to hide.
I squeezed his hand gently, a silent promise that whatever happened next, he wouldn't face it alone.
The elevator hummed softly around us, its polished brass interior reflecting our images back at us—me in my wheelchair, Connor standing beside me, our hands intertwined. Ten floors wasn't much, but today it felt like climbing a mountain.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my thumb tracing small circles on the back of his hand.
Connor's lips quirked into what might have passed for a smile if not for the tension around his eyes. "Just peachy. Nothing says 'great day' like finding out your brother personally arranged your sale to a human trafficker and then getting chased through the city."
The tremor in his voice gave him away. I tightened my grip on his hand, anger flaring hot and sudden in my chest at the thought of what his family had tried to do.
"Harris won't touch you again," I promised, the words coming out with a dangerous edge that surprised even me. "Not while I'm breathing."
Connor looked down at me, something shifting in his expression—vulnerability giving way to something warmer. "My knight in a titanium chariot," he murmured, the joke unable to fully mask the raw emotion underneath.
Before I could respond, the elevator slowed, the digital display flashing "10" as we arrived at our destination. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what came next. The doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing Jake standing in the corridor, hands clasped behind his back.
Gone was the easy smile and relaxed posture I'd come to expect from my oldest friend. This was Jake the businessman, Jake the innovator, his expression serious as he nodded to me.
"Julian," he acknowledged, before extending his hand to Connor. "It's good to see you in one piece."
I watched Connor's eyebrow arch slightly as he shook Jake's hand. "Thanks... I think."
Jake's laugh broke through some of the tension, though it didn't reach his eyes. "After what Kyue told me about your motorcycle adventure, it's a genuine compliment."
"Kyue exaggerates," Connor replied, though we all knew it wasn't true.
Jake gestured down the hallway. "This way. Norris is waiting for us in the main lab."
I wheeled alongside Connor as we followed Jake through pristine corridors that gleamed under bright LED lighting. D'Amato Technologies spared no expense on its facilities—every surface was immaculate, every piece of technology cutting-edge. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and something metallic I couldn't quite place.
Connor's eyes darted around, taking in the security panels beside each door, the occasional lab-coated employee who nodded respectfully as we passed. His hand had slipped from mine when we exited the elevator, but now I felt his fingers brush against my shoulder, seeking connection.
"When you said 'lab,' I was thinking more 'cool gadgets' and less 'secret government facility,'" he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.
"Jake prefers the term 'innovation center,'" I replied dryly. "Though I've told him it looks like a set from a science fiction movie."
Jake glanced back over his shoulder. "That's rich coming from a man whose penthouse could double as a museum."
The familiar banter helped ease some of the tension, and I felt rather than saw Connor relax slightly beside me. This—the teasing, the normalcy—was what he needed after the confrontation with his family. A reminder that not every relationship was transactional, that not everyone saw him as something to be used.
We reached a set of double doors at the end of the hallway, and Jake pressed his palm to a biometric scanner. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the laboratory beyond.
