His Juliet: An Age Gap Hurt Comfort Mafia Romance (Empire of Royals Book 2)

The Serbians and I entered Nocturne, an exclusive sex club on the Upper West Side that belonged to the Family. The early evening hour meant it was still quiet, although there were already a number of couples by the bar and topless waitresses serving drinks around the room.

We settled in a corner booth. Vlad and Dragan were trying to hide wide, amazed eyes behind stoic expressions.

Dragan leaned in. “This is exactly the kind of place we could find clients. We could even hold the art auctions here.”

“We’ve held them in similar clubs in Europe. Of course, we would give you a cut of the profits in exchange for use of the trade routes and the space.”

My mind wandered as the two men explained to me the intricacies of black market art trafficking, and I could practically feel the weight of Matteo’s disapproval at my inattention. We didn’t need the Serbians as allies, but their art trade would be a way to bring in extra money, and it was stupid to make enemies when it wasn’t necessary. But right now, nothing mattered more than fixing the tears on my girl’s face.

I had to get to her, but I was fucking trapped here. The meeting dragged on, and with each minute, I felt Juliet slipping further away. Staying seated instead of sprinting after her was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

A waitress came to our table—a blonde wearing an underbust corset. The Serbians leaned towards her, captivated by her curves and smile, but there was only one woman I wanted to see now.

I would lose Juliet if I didn’t explain my behavior in the bakery, but it meant telling her everything, and that might mean losing her anyway.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I fumbled as I pulled it out, hoping against all odds that Juliet was calling. My heart sank when I saw it was Sienna. The Serbians were still occupied by the blonde, so I answered in case she needed something.

“Romeo.” Her intense tone immediately put me on edge.

“What?”

“The Albanians just drove by Juliet’s apartment.”

The world stopped.

“You sure it was them?”

“I got a list of their license plates, at least the ones we’ve identified, from Franco. I don’t know who’s in the car, but it is their car.”

I got up and moved out of the booth. The Serbians looked at me with confusion.

“I must leave. Please, enjoy your evening.”

I turned away before they could respond and pushed through the growing crowd towards the door. “When did they drive past?”

“Two minutes ago. So far, they haven’t doubled back. I’m tracking them through the city now.”noveldrama

“I’m on my way. Call me with any updates.” I hung up and gestured at Alessandro, who was keeping watch at the edge of the room. “I have to go,” I said hurriedly. “Watch the fucking Serbians. We need them happy, but don’t let them pull any shit.”

Alessandro frowned. “Where are you going?”

I was already halfway to the door. “Just watch them.”

He lifted his chin, and I was gone.

I drove like a madman through Manhattan, not giving a fuck about the pissed-off New Yorkers honking at me on the way to Juliet’s shitty apartment. Why hadn’t I already moved her somewhere better? Why hadn’t I assigned men to guard her? Right, because I had some absurd idea that I should hold back from her, that my distance would keep her safe.

It was too fucking late for that now. I didn’t know how the Albanians had found her, but I did know what I would do to them once I found them. My inner monster surged, urging me to hunt them down, slice open their stomachs, fill them with gasoline, and burn them from the inside out.

It was my fault she was in danger. Today had been a reminder of how different our worlds were and what it would cost her to be a part of mine. Her life would be better without me in it, and if I were a better man, I would have stayed away after that first night in the bookstore.

But I hadn’t stayed away.

Couldn’t.

I cursed as a text flashed on my phone screen.

Sienna

Albanians drove by a second time. Slowed but didn’t stop.

Angelo and others on the way for backup

I parked haphazardly in the closest spot I could find outside Juliet’s apartment and slammed the car door behind me. I was out of breath by the time I stopped outside her door. I paused for the briefest second, trying to figure out what the fuck I was even going to say.

Sorry I lied to you and rejected you. Oh, also, we have to leave right now because sex traffickers are driving past your apartment, probably with the plan of kidnapping you so they can blackmail me.

God, I was such a useless asshole. How could I have put her at risk like this?

I raised my hand and knocked.

No answer.

I knocked again, harder this time.

When I still didn’t get a response, I called her phone and got her voicemail.

I called again.

With each moment that passed, the clawing feeling in my chest that told me something was very wrong grew. Had the Albanians already gotten inside? Or was Juliet ignoring me because of how I’d treated her?

I pounded on the door harder. “Juliet, answer the door.”

Sweat dripped down my back. I needed to get in there right the fuck now.

I grabbed the handle and rammed my shoulder into the door. The only good thing about the shitty construction in this building was that it gave way on the first try, a large crack forming down the middle and the handle partially coming off.

“Juliet?” My heart pounded as my eyes raked over the studio apartment. The tiny bed in the corner. The worn loveseat. The small wooden chair sat in front of the card table, which had two Mario Kart controllers on it.

Empty.

Fuck, what an idiot I was. Breaking down her door when she wasn’t even here. Was she at the bookstore? It was closed today, but that must be where she’d gone. I pulled out my phone and messaged a guy in the Family who took care of our repairs, sending him the details to come replace this entire front door, preferably with something bulletproof. Angelo and the other guys on their way could stay here in case the Albanians came inside while I went to the bookstore.

I was about to leave the apartment when the back of my neck prickled and a slow, sick feeling entered my stomach. I whirled around, facing the empty room, but my eyes were drawn to the closed door to my right. Before I knew what I was doing, I crossed the tiny apartment and threw open the bathroom door.

The sight that met me would be burned into my mind for the rest of time.

My girl, sitting on the bathroom floor in a pool of her own blood.

“Juliet!” I screamed.

No no no. She couldn’t be gone, she couldn’t.

I dropped to my knees, uncaring that blood was soaking into my pants. “Juliet!” I shook her shoulders, and her eyes blinked open.

“Romeo?” Her lower lip trembled. “Go away. I don’t want you here.”

“Oh, thank god.” I gathered her into my arms, hugging her close. If she was upset with me, that meant she was still breathing.

I looked down and realized the blood was seeping out of a series of neat cuts on her thighs. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but one cut was deeper than the others and was steadily dripping blood onto the floor. I swore and grabbed some toilet paper to press it to the cut.

“What happened, angel?”

Juliet leaned back, her head hitting the wall as she closed her eyes.

“No baby, I need you to stay awake for me.” The bleeding was thankfully slowing down. “How did this happen?”

My brain was sluggish with panic, my stomach churning with nausea.

“Why are you here?” She sounded exhausted.

“I was worried about you.” I swallowed hard as I dabbed at the cuts and kept pressure on the deepest one. “I’m sorry I told you I was out of town and so fucking sorry for what I said in the bakery. The men I was with… I couldn’t let them know that I care about you.”

“You don’t care about me.”

I gripped the back of her neck. “Don’t say that.” My voice was harsh, desperate. I rested my forehead against hers. “Please, never, ever say that, Juliet. I can’t handle it.”

Her eyes fluttered closed again. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Maybe I did actually die.”

My chest constricted and a strangled sound came out of my mouth. “You will not die. I won’t allow it.”

I looked around the tiny bathroom, trying to figure out what to do. Did she need to go to the hospital? I was conscious that with every ticking minute, the Albanians drew closer.

I messaged the apartment number to Angelo, telling him to guard us until we could leave.

My chest eased slightly once all the cuts stopped bleeding. “Let’s get you in the shower,” I murmured.

I turned on the hot water, hoping I was doing the right thing. Juliet was already mostly naked, just in her bra and underwear. I stripped off my clothes, keeping my boxers on.

“Come here.” I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her off the floor. Her arms came around my neck and a whimper slipped through her lips.

“You’re okay. We’re going to figure this out.”

The water was hot now, so I guided her into the shower. It was tiny, but that didn’t matter. I didn’t want any space between us anyway.

Juliet rested her cheek against my chest and let out a shuddering sigh. I clutched at her, gently rocking as the hot water pelted us.

“What happened?” I couldn’t think of anything that would create cuts like that except for one thing, and my mind wouldn’t let me believe it.

“I don’t want to tell you.”

I pressed my face to her hair. “Please, angel. Please tell me.” My words were raw, scraping past my throat.

“You know what happened.”

“Juliet.”

“Fine, I did it to myself, okay?” She struggled against my hold, but I just tightened my arms, nausea churning in my stomach.

“Why?”

“Because I was upset and I needed to not feel.”

I squeezed my eyes. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I was so fucking proud to see you in that bakery.” I pulled back so I could cup her face and meet her gaze. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy from crying. “I haven’t told you everything about me, and I should have. I work with some dangerous people and couldn’t risk them seeing you with me. None of it was true. I wanted to murder them for what they said about you.”

She stopped fighting me but stayed silent.

“Please tell me you believe me, Juliet.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense for you to actually be into me.” Before I could argue with her, she forged ahead. “You look like that, and I’m just an ugly blob. You have some sort of high-powered job, and I work in a bookstore and live in a shitty apartment. Our lives don’t fit, Romeo. I don’t even know your real fucking name!” She screamed that last part while tears streamed down her face, mixing with the water.

I grabbed her shoulders and gave her a shake. “What the actual fuck? You. Are. Everything. Gorgeous and funny and brilliant.” I brushed wet strands of hair out of her face. “I never feel as at peace or happy as I do when I’m around you. And my real name is Romeo. I never lied to you about that.”

“You lied about other things.”

“I know. I’m so sorry. I’ll explain better once we get you all cleaned up. Promise.”

I shifted us so the water hit the tops of her thighs, cleaning off the rest of the blood. I regularly washed much more blood off my own body, but seeing Juliet marked with red? It shook me to my core.

Once the water was running clear, I hugged her back to my chest. “I can’t stand to see you hurting, can’t imagine a world without you. Please, sweetheart, don’t do this again. I’ll do anything to stop you from hurting like this.”

It wasn’t my right to ask this of her, but I meant it when I said I would do anything for her.

She shook her head, her face still pressed to my chest. “I can’t.”

My fingers dug into her skin. “Yes, you can. I know⁠—”

“I can’t stop,” she screamed, cutting me off. “I’ve tried, but I can’t. I’m broken and I destroy everything around me. You were right to stay away.”

She thrashed against my hold, but I pinned her against the shower wall. “I’m not fucking leaving! Fuck, Juliet! You can’t do this. You can’t do this.” I couldn’t remember the last time I cried, but now my tears mixed with the water. “If you need to get the pain out, you take it out on me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” She was sobbing now.

My eyes caught on yet another razor blade in the corner of the shower niche and saw red. I held it up to my own skin and she flinched. “No. Fucking. More. You need to cut, you cut me.”

She shook her head, and I pressed the razor into her hand.

“Do it.”

“No, I can’t!”

“Do it, Juliet! I can take it!” My voice was probably loud enough to reach all the apartments in this shit building, but I didn’t care. Nothing could compare to thinking I’d lost her forever.

I moved her hand so the razor blade was pressed against my chest, the exact same spot she’d drawn the tattoo on that first night. “Cut me. Mark me.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Thinking about a world without you hurts me!” I gripped the back of her neck and pulled her in for a crushing kiss, pouring all my pain and fear into it. My hand went to hers and I guided it to my skin, forcing her to slice the razor blade across my chest. I barely felt the sting as the blood dripped down.

She let out a whimper and dropped the blade. She ran her finger through the blood, her lower lip trembling. “You don’t deserve to hurt.”

What was left of my mangled heart cracked and shattered.

“I don’t know who told you that you deserve to hurt, but they were wrong. You deserve everything good. Everything. And I’m going to make sure you have it.”

I hugged her tight, my hands pressed against her back. At first, Juliet stood with her arms at her side, but then, ever so slowly, her arms wrapped around my waist. We clung tightly to each other as if trying to pull the other into our own body. My entire world shrank down to her, my Juliet, and it didn’t matter that we were almost naked, or that the water was running cold, or that we were in this shitty bathroom. All that mattered was that she was in my arms and I wouldn’t let her go.

When she started shivering, I turned the water off and wrapped a threadbare towel over her. “I need to take a better look at those,” I murmured, kissing the top of her head. She curled in on herself. I lifted her chin and waited for her to meet my gaze.

“I can handle it myself,” she whispered.

A lump rose in my throat, and I shook my head. “No, I’ll do it.” I needed to take care of her this way to reassure myself that she was still here. I pulled my clothes on, uncaring that I was still dripping wet, and guided her to the loveseat.

“I’m going to bleed on it,” she said.

Like that mattered. She wouldn’t be in this apartment for much longer. I gently pushed on her shoulders and she sat down.

“Where’s your first aid kit?”

“There’s a small basket in the bathroom.” She looked so defeated. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and tell her everything would be okay, but I couldn’t do it yet. Instead, I grabbed a blanket from her bed and tucked it around her shoulders before grabbing the first aid basket. There wasn’t much in it—just some band-aids, antiseptic cream, and gauze.

I returned to Juliet and knelt in front of her, peeling the towel off her legs. I tried to make sure she was as covered up as possible—she didn’t need me staring at her pussy when she was vulnerable—but I couldn’t pretend that I hadn’t seen it when the towel shifted and that it wasn’t the most perfect sight in the world.

My eyes took in the vivid red lines on the tops of her thighs. I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Because underneath the fresh cuts were lines and lines of scars. Dozens of pale white lines marked her thighs. My breath hitched as I ran my fingers across them.

“This was why you wanted the lights off.” The first time we’d had sex, I thought she was shy about me seeing her naked. I never imagined…

She nodded. “I didn’t want you to see. I know they’re ugly and I understand if this is all too much⁠—”

She fell silent as I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my head in her lap.

“Nothing could make you ugly.” I pressed kisses up and down her thighs, her blood marking my lips. I would spend the rest of my life kissing every one of her scars and making up for every unhappiness she’d ever experienced. I pressed one more kiss to the biggest cut before sitting up and cleaning them. Juliet didn’t flinch or complain the whole time, and I almost wanted her to. I wanted her to trust me enough to show me her pain.

I placed the final bandage and gave her calf a squeeze. “Let’s get you dressed.”

“Wait.” She grabbed my wrist. “Let me.” She gestured at the shallow cut on my pec. It had already stopped bleeding.

I swallowed hard as she cleaned it, being gentle and thorough at the same time. I wasn’t a stranger to getting hurt. My body was littered with scars and bullet wounds, but I never paid much attention to them. The way Juliet was caring for me made warmth rise in my chest.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” I murmured once she was finished.

I watched her carefully as she stood from the couch. She still looked pale, and I didn’t like how she swayed on her feet. She needed food, water, and lots of care. All of which I’d give her back at my apartment, where we would be safe. I tucked her into my side and pulled her over to a beat-up dresser. I opened the top drawer and was greeted by an explosion of lace. Lingerie that I had given her.

“Umm, not that one.” Juliet tried to shut the drawer, but I pushed away her hands.

“Do you want to go commando?”

She scowled. “No. Just… go over there.” She pointed approximately a foot away at her bed. “I can get dressed myself.”

“You’re cute.” I kissed her forehead. “Where do you keep your suitcase?”