Julian’s POV
The force of the blow was unexpected, catching off guard, rattling my teeth. It wasn’t the pain that stopped ; it was the question that followed.
"How long have you been fucking Catherine, you punk?!"
I was utterly paralyzed. My body remained rigid where I stood near the door and my mind reeled.
How the fuck did he know that?
The question slamd into , cutting through the shock of the punch. What did he hear last night that was so definitive? Did he sohow see us? Who had told him?
Gabriel saw my stunned silence, and his voice ca at , sharp, taunting, and laced with contempt. "You can’t talk now, huh? I guess you are trying to make up a lie. Don’t bother. I know the truth already."
I knew Gabriel well. He was confidently making this accusation, so that ant he already had proof or soone told him. Either way, I had to create doubt.
I forced myself to shake off the montary stupor, rubbing my jaw where he’d connected. I forced my features into a look of outrage and bewildernt, trying to project the image of a man falsely accused.
"What in the hell are you talking about?" I demanded, letting my confusion bleed into my voice. "Why on earth would you think I have been sleeping around with our stepsister? Have you lost your mind? What the hell!"
My feigned ignorance only enraged him further. He didn’t waste ti arguing. He imdiately pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, his movents were still fully jerked with anger. He tapped the screen rapidly, then shoved the device right into my face. "Care to explain this?"
The image staring back at was that picture of Catherine and , the one that Collins tried to use to threaten her the day he wanted to force himself on her.
In this photo, the side of my face and my hair could be fully recognized, but Catherine was mostly obscured. The angle was awful, only her distinctive hair and slight stature were clearly visible, confirming it was her.
The picture was clearly a screenshot, maybe pulled from a page, and beneath it, the caption was a dagger:
Julian Vaughn has been seduced by his father’s new wife’s daughter. The gold digging never stops.
A low, guttural curse escaped . This was Collins’s doing. It had to be him. That manipulative bastard must have gotten angry that Catherine didn’t take his call or respond to his ssages. Now, he was using this to destroy us, to hurt Catherine, and to humiliate our family.
I was going to make him pay for this but right now, I had to deal with Gabriel. I pulled back from the phone, trying to maintain my facade of bewildernt. "Where did you get this garbage from?" I scoffed with a tight voice.
"That’s all you can say?" Gabriel yelled, taking a step toward , his voice incredulous. "You’re looking at visual proof that you’re carrying on with Catherine, and all you can ask is where I got it? Are you still planning to deny it?"
I deliberately moved back a few steps, creating physical distance between us, letting my surprise and outrage build. "Deny it? Of course, I’m denying it! I’m completely shocked that you think I’ve been sleeping with our stepsister just because of so photoshopped image or so blurry, out-of-context picture put up by so random gossip blog! You know how easy it is to fake things online!"
I looked him straight in the eye, trying to project an air of injured innocence. "I’m more shocked that you would believe so anonymous trash over . I’m so disappointed, Gabe."
His eyes narrowed. He was wrestling with doubt, I could see it. He desperately wanted to believe my denial, but the image and the timing, catching with a ’girl’ last night, were too damning. His gaze hardened. He gave a look that plainly said, I don’t believe you for a second, but I need proof.
He dismissed my argunt with a disgusted flick of his hand. Then, he raised his voice, loud enough for it to carry through the room, through the glass, and onto the balcony.
"Catherine!" he yelled, turning his head, scanning the room. "Stop hiding and just co out already! I know you’re in here! If you’re not sleeping with him, you have to co out and say so!"
He started moving, crossing the room quickly, looking under the bed and behind the large standing screen. He pulled open the closet door and slamd it shut again. His frantic movents betrayed his desperate need for confirmation.
My heart hamred against my ribs. I knew Catherine was pressed into the corner of the balcony. If he opened that sliding door, everything would be over.
"Stop acting crazy, Gabriel!" I said, stepping in front of him, trying to physically block his movent toward the windows. "Catherine isn’t here! She’s probably in her own room or out with her friend!"
He shoved aside, his frustration made him stronger. Suddenly, his lips bent to a cruel smirk. "Really? Let’s find out."
I watched in mounting horror as he pulled his phone out of his pocket again.
"What are you doing now?" I asked, curious.
He ignored . His finger tapped the screen, and I recognized the action instantly. He was calling Catherine.
My blood ran cold. I swallowed hard, the hairs on my skin stood and my heart beat loudly in my chest. If that phone rang, the sound would give her away. The entire ruse, my denial, my claims of innocence, would all be destroyed. We would be completely, irrevocably caught red-handed.
I had to stop him. I took a quick step toward him, intent on grabbing the phone, but it was too late. He had already hit ’send.’ The silence in the room was excruciating, only broken by the frantic pounding of my own heart as I waited for the inevitable chi.
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