"Open the door, now!" The pounding shook the frame, loud enough to rattle Juliana's nerves.

She shot a worried glance at Braydon, her pulse jumping.

He leaned close, his voice steady. "Relax. The gun's got a silencer. No one will hear a thing outside."

His breath grazed her ear, and a shiver crawled down her spine.

"If you don't open up, we're coming in!" another voice shouted, followed by a violent kick that made the hinges groan. The seconds stretched, heavy and endless.

Braydon patiently showed her the right way to handle the gun, making sure she knew how to load it and pull the trigger. By the time the door crashed open, she was already steady, aiming straight at the group barging in.

"Where are you going to hide now, you bitch!" one of the men cursed, but once he saw the barrel aimed at his chest, the words stuck in his throat.

"All that talk, but now you're suddenly quiet." Braydon gave them a look, his voice sharp and cold.

Despite their boldness, the intruders edged away from the muzzle, refusing to let their fear show. "What, you expect us to believe that's a real gun? Somebody grab her!"

One of the men rushed forward, and Braydon didn't hesitate. He squeezed the trigger. The gun fired with a loud snap, and the bullet tore into the man's thigh, sending a streak of blood across the floor.

There was no mistaking it now—this was no imitation.

The moment the shot rang out, Juliana's head turned around to Braydon in shock. That wasn't her intention at all.

He had been the one to guide her hand the whole time.

"You..." Juliana tried to speak, but her words broke off as she stared at him.

Braydon's lips curled into an easy smile. "Now they know not to mess with you."

Those standing before her grew cautious, uncertain if they should advance. The gun never wavered in her grip.

"You've got two choices," said Braydon, finally letting go of her wrist and lounging on the sofa as if nothing had happened. His tone was nonchalant. "Either stand your ground with me, or let them drag you away."

Every second with the gun in her grasp made Juliana's arm ache, yet she knew surrendering to Rocco was out of the question. Escaping from Johnny was just as impossible.

Even if she escaped this time, Johnny would only cook up another scheme, pushing her into Rocco's arms sooner or later.

With her options dwindling, Juliana realized that sticking with this stranger was the only way out.

She steadied herself, determination flickering in her eyes. "Fine. I'll play your game, but you have to give me something first."

"Go ahead." He seemed ready for her answer, his fingers snapping.

Without warning, the door swung shut, and shadows moved in. Men dressed in black stepped out from the corners, hemming in Rocco's crew with practiced precision.

No one put up a fight. They fell to their knees, defeated in an instant.

That was when Juliana's eyes flicked to the men in black. Each one had a handgun drawn and ready.

A jolt of panic ran through her.

Clips from old crime movies flashed in her mind. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine living out such a dangerous bargain. It was as if she had shaken hands with the devil himself.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she forced her words out, saying, "I want cash. Lots of it."

Braydon agreed with barely a thought. "Tell me how much."

His quick acceptance caught Juliana off guard. Since he made no fuss, she saw no reason to hold back.

"I need a million."

It was enough for Laura's operation, but she doubted he'd say yes.

A sum like that would make most people hesitate, especially given they were practically strangers.

Without missing a beat, he signaled to the young guy at his side, who called him "Mr. Morgan" before handing Juliana a sleek black credit card.

She stared at Braydon, confusion written on her face. "You..."

"There's no limit. Spend whatever you want." He rose from his seat, gently tipping her chin up with one finger. "Stick with me, and you'll never have to worry again."

Juliana studied his face, unsettled by the feeling that their paths had crossed before, though she couldn't quite place when or where.

The memory slipped through her fingers, so she simply murmured, "Thank you."

"I'll have Henrik find a place for you tomorrow. Anything comes up, just call him." As he spoke, he took her phone and entered his own details himself.

Henrik Briggs, the young man who had been quietly standing by his side, gave a respectful nod.

Taking her phone back, Juliana noticed a new name added to her contacts.

Braydon Morgan.

The name meant nothing to her. Maybe she was just imagining the sense of familiarity.

She managed a nod. "Am I free to leave now?"

"What should I do about them?" Braydon's eyes flickered toward the defeated group, his tone casual.

After a moment's thought, Juliana spoke. "They're only lackeys. Let them off easy. The real troublemakers aren't here."

Johnny and Rocco were the ones she truly wanted.

A quick nod from Braydon sent Henrik to round up the group and escort them out. He patted the seat beside him, a silent invitation. "Sit here."

Juliana wavered before moving over, settling in beside him. She called out respectfully, "Mr. Morgan."

Braydon gave a short nod. "So, what did you do to make them so angry?"

"My boyfriend tried to pass me off to his superior, but he messed up and sent me to the wrong room instead." Juliana's gaze dropped, her fingers curling into a tight fist.

The betrayal stung all over again.

No one had hurt her as much as Johnny—not even Rocco.

Braydon's lips curled into a half-smile at the mention of her boyfriend. "Aren't you itching to get some revenge?"

Without hesitating, Juliana straightened, a fierce light in her eyes. "I'm not letting him get away with it. He's going to regret every bit of it."

Reaching for her hand, Braydon guided her toward the door.

She shot him a questioning look. "Where are we headed?"

"We're going to make your boyfriend pay."

Juliana's pulse hammered in her chest.

A quick glance at Braydon's side profile stirred up emotions she couldn't quite put into words.

Trailing after him, she kept her nerves in check as they headed straight for Johnny's hangout.

Their destination turned out to be a bustling bar.

Confident his plan had already worked, Johnny had gathered a crowd, laughing and celebrating as if nothing could go wrong.

By the time Juliana stepped in, Johnny was gripping a microphone, belting out a tune with a grin that oozed self-satisfaction.

All at once, the music cut out, the speakers going dead silent while Johnny, still caught up in the song, shouted, "Who turned off the sound? Can't you see I'm onstage?"

Suddenly, the whole room lit up, bright lights making Johnny squint as he threw up a hand to block the glare.

He heard the unmistakable tap of approaching footsteps, each one echoing in the charged silence.

As his vision adjusted, Johnny looked up—and found a man standing before him.

Not just any stranger, but strikingly good-looking.

Johnny sized him up, deciding at once that he must be one of the bar's hired pretty boys, the kind he couldn't stand.

Fixing the man with a haughty stare, Johnny lifted his chin. "Did you need something, or are you just here to stare?"

Braydon ignored him completely. Instead, he waved his hand for the room to clear, his focus shifting lazily to the doorway. "Your turn. Get up there."

When Johnny followed Braydon's line of sight and spotted Juliana, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Words caught in his throat as he finally managed to ask, "Juliana? Why are you here?"

She was supposed to be stuck in that hotel room by now.

Doubt crept in—maybe his scheme had fallen apart again.

In a frantic move, Johnny lunged, trying to drag Juliana away by the wrist. "Come with me—now!"

Juliana sidestepped him and delivered a sharp kick to his shin. "You've got some nerve even looking at me, let alone touching me!"

Every bit of betrayal came rushing back, fueling her anger.

Johnny collapsed, clutching his leg and grimacing. He barely had a second to react before Juliana gave him another shove, sending him sprawling.

"Juliana, listen! I only did it for our future... Can't you go easy on me?"

She glared, her eyes shining with fury. "You think you get to talk about a future with me?"

No part of her cared if she hurt him. After everything, he deserved it.

When Johnny realized sweet talk would get him nowhere, his tone hardened, his eyes cold. "Stop now, Juliana, or you'll regret it!"

Juliana's answer was swift—another kick, this time landing on his chest.

Groaning and clutching his chest, Johnny rolled over and scrambled upright, desperate and wild-eyed. "Is this what you want, Juliana? You're pushing me too far!"

He looked at her, convinced she was no threat at all. After all, in his mind, Juliana could never really fight back.

Braydon flicked open a lighter, the flame briefly illuminating his playful smirk as he watched Juliana.

Johnny raised his fist, ready to throw a punch, but Braydon snatched his wrist and said coldly, "Who do you think you are, touching my girl in front of me?"

Johnny turned, his voice dripping with malice. "Your girl? Back off! She's mine, and I'll do what I want!"

Before Johnny could even finish, a sharp crack split the air.

"Ah!" A scream tore out of him.

Juliana's gaze shot up, horrified to see Johnny's wrist bent at an impossible angle.

It was Braydon—he'd snapped Johnny's hand without a hint of hesitation.

Braydon took a drag from his cigarette, and then flicked the burning tip straight onto Johnny's cheek. "She isn't yours anymore."

The ember hissed against Johnny's skin, but his pain was drowned out as Braydon shoved him aside as if he were nothing.

"You've committed a crime! I'll call the cops! You're all dead!" Gasping, Johnny clutched his ruined hand, rage and panic twisting his features.

With a silent nod, Braydon beckoned Juliana closer. An aide slipped him a pistol, which he promptly handed to her. "Kill him."

Juliana's hand shook as she stared at the weapon. "I... I can't—"

"You want him gone? Pull the trigger, and you'll never have to look over your shoulder again." Braydon pressed the gun into her palm, loading it with practiced ease. "I'll handle everything that comes after."