Chapter 459// Secrets of the Past

Chapter 459

Julie’s POV

The car ground to a violent halt at the curb outside the club. My neck snapped toward Thomas, my eyes searing through his withered, hollow frame with absolute disgust. A sudden, bitter laugh caught in my throat, choking on tears, but when I spoke, the tone was a razor slicing through the heavy cabin.

"You are the filthiest piece of human garbage I have ever met in my entire life..." I paused, my fingernails digging deep into the leather armrest until my knuckles turned stark white. "...At least try to fix yourself!"

Without waiting for his mouth to open, I shoved the heavy door wide and hit the pavement. The cold air slapped my face as I sprinted toward the entrance, my lungs burning. Bursting into the main hall, a wave of low light, pulse-pounding bass, and a wall of hot, packed bodies slammed into me. I shoved past a pair of shadowy figures without missing a beat, ducking straight for the private rear corridor and taking the stairs two at a time down to the subterranean level.

My soles hit the threshold of the private VIP passage, bathed in dim, crimson wall-sconces that cast long shadows over the dark wood paneling. The silence here was suffocating, and the terrifying questions instantly clawed back into my chest like a starved beast.

What if Robert finds out I’m the daughter of the woman his father cheated with? Will the way he looks at me change forever? Do I really have to lay this disgusting truth at his feet right now?

I forced my trembling knees to keep moving, taking the private spiral staircase up toward his office. My knuckles brushed the cold iron railing, each step feeling like a slow march toward an executioner’s block. Reaching the heavy, solid-oak door of his private suite, my feet glued to the floor.

I lifted a shaking palm toward the polished brass handle, stopping an inch short. My chest heaved. I swallowed past the dry lump lodged in my throat and squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my free hand over my ribs to keep my heart from tearing through skin.

Be brave, Julie... just be brave.

I gripped the handle and shoved the door open without knocking.

The heavy wood swung inward on silent hinges. Olivia was standing right beside his desk. Her manicured fingers were resting softly, intimately, over Robert’s broad shoulder. He was slouched back in his high-back leather executive chair, his head heavy, his dark hair falling wildly over his brow.

My entire body locked up, blood rushing to my ears in a deafening roar. "What the fuck is happening here?!"

Olivia went rigid. Her head snapped toward me, her eyes widening in a split-second of raw panic before her hand slowly lifted off his shoulder. Robert’s head rolled back against the leather with agonizing slowness. His dark eyes were hooded, glazed, completely unfocused as his lips parted, raspy and slurred.

"Julie..."

He was completely obliterated. Empty crystal decanters tilted on their sides and half-drained bourbon glasses littered the polished mahogany desk in pure, chaotic ruin.

I locked my glare onto Olivia, taking a slow, deliberate step into the room. My shoulders squared, my tone dripping with lethal, quiet authority. "Get the fuck out of here!"

She threw her chin up, her chest rising as she tried to muster a pathetic spark of defiance. "I’m not leaving."

My hand slammed onto the edge of the doorway, my stance shifting into a sharp, predatory posture as the air between us turned toxic. "Get out... before I kill you where you stand, Olivia!"

Robert’s heavy arm swept lazily through the air, his knuckles brushing a glass on the desk with a sharp clink. His tone was low, gravelly, and utterly absolute. "Get out..."

Olivia’s shoulders caved in bitter defeat. She snatched her purse off the desk, gathered what was left of her pride, and dragged her steps past me, her shoulder intentionally brushing mine before she vanished out the door.

The moment the heavy latch clicked shut, the air exploded out of my lungs. I bolted across the floor and dropped hard to my knees beside his chair. My hands slammed onto the leather armrests, my face inches from his as my eyes searched his ruined expression in sheer desperation.

"Robert... why the hell did you drink yourself into this state?!"

He dragged both palms up his face, burying his head in his hands. A guttural, broken rasp tore from his chest, shaking his massive frame. "I’m shattered, Julie... I just found out that my son... the boy I never even knew existed... is dead."

My heart stopped beating.

The dark realization slammed straight into my ribs like a physical blow. He was drowning in the fresh, raw agony of this loss for the very first time today... while I had been burning in that exact same hell for three straight years. And the wound in my own chest throbbed as if the blood were spilling out today.

I slid my hands up his arms, driving my fingers through his thick, dark hair and pulling his face slightly toward mine. My voice dropped to a soft, frantic whisper. "Hold on... please, just hold on."

He gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles clenching until a sharp line formed along his cheek. Fighting the heavy poison tearing through his veins, he forced his body up, gripping the edge of the mahogany desk to stand tall before me. His posture was towering, imposing, a man desperately trying to project a power he didn’t feel.

"I am holding on," he growled, his breathing ragged.

I wrapped my fingers gently around his forearm, feeling the violent strain in his muscles. "Come on... let’s go to the bedroom."

We moved together, his broad shoulder pressing heavily against mine as I anchored his weight. Even completely fucked up, he fought the dead weight in his legs with incredible, terrifying willpower. I shoved open the door to his private quarters and led him inside. Axel scrambled up from his rug, his tail giving a low thump against the floor as he whined in greeting, but I brushed past the dog and guided Robert straight toward the massive bed.

He sank heavily onto the edge of the mattress, the springs groaning beneath his weight. I dropped right beside him, my heart breaking into pieces at the sight of his head hanging low.

"I completely forgot that you’re experiencing this pain for the very first time today..." I murmured, reaching out to cup his jaw, forcing him to look at me. "I’m so sorry, my love."

"I never liked kids..." he rasped out, his voice cracking down the middle with a tormented, heart-wrenching question. "I never wanted to be a father. So why does it feel like my fucking chest is exploding?!"