Midnight Confessions and Betrayals

(Elias’s POV)

The knock on my door was violent, urgent — unlike anything I’d heard before.

I froze. Midnight. Who could it be?

As I opened it, Julian’s tall figure filled the doorway. His eyes were sharp, blazing with fury. Behind him, Alex followed silently, his gaze cold, controlled. I bowed instinctively. “Sorbid,” I murmured, my voice trembling.

Julian’s lips twisted into a sneer. “Sorbid? Do you think that word will save you now?” His voice cut through the room like a whip. “You little slut… you told Mr. Watson everything! Playing innocent all this time, but secretly spying for your own little gain?”

I couldn’t speak. I only trembled, my hands shaking. Respect had always been my shield, but here it was useless.

Julian’s anger seemed endless. “Or are you doing all this to get close to Alex? Or to snatch my husband? Huh?”

I swallowed hard. The words struck me like blows. My chest ached, and tears welled, but I didn’t dare speak. I knew better — Julian didn’t see me as a person; I was just a servant.

“Do you even understand what you’ve done?” he hissed, stepping closer, pacing the room, his intensity suffocating.

Finally, I found a small voice. “How… how do you know all this?”

Julian’s smirk was dangerous. “I went to my house earlier today. Heard your little ‘reports’ being discussed — Mr. Watson and my parents talking about you, about Alex and me. And now? Now I know what you’ve been feeding them. Do you even understand what that means?”

I swallowed again. “I… I understood…” I whispered, barely audible, my eyes fixed on the floor.

Julian’s hands gestured wildly, his voice rising. “No! You don’t get it! You’re a spy, hiding behind that sorbid respect of yours, thinking you’re clever. And Alex… he’s letting you!”

I dared a glance at Alex. His face was cold, unreadable. He didn’t defend me, didn’t speak. But his eyes… just a flicker, a pause, as if saying I see you, but I cannot interfere yet. My heart ached with a mix of hope and despair.

Julian turned sharply, fury boiling over. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Do you like him? Huh, Alex? Is that why you’re silent? Because this little spy is your plaything?”

My head spun. My stomach knotted. Julian’s words were cruel, humiliating, and I felt trapped between his wrath and Alex’s silence.

“And you,” Julian spat at me, “you told Mr. Watson that there’s nothing between us, that we’re distant, that we live in separate rooms. Do you want to see what our lessons look like? Do you want to witness what we are behind closed doors?”

Before I could react, Julian pulled Alex to him. Their lips collided in a brutal, intense kiss. Alex’s jaw tensed, but he did not resist. The room seemed to shrink around me, my chest tight, my vision blurring. Humiliation, confusion, and awe collided in my heart.

I wanted to look away, to disappear, but my eyes were glued to them. Julian’s hands were firm, possessive, yet Alex’s calm strength held something deeper — a restrained tenderness that Julian didn’t notice.

The kiss broke only for a moment. Julian’s lips met Alex’s again, fierce and demanding, while my own throat tightened with shame. Why am I here? Why do I have to watch this?

Alex finally stepped slightly away, brushing past me without a word, leaving me alone in the heavy, tense air. Julian’s eyes flicked to mine one last time, sharp and accusing, as if daring me to breathe.

And then silence.

I sank onto the edge of my bed, trembling. My chest heaved, tears spilling over. My respect, my fear, my loyalty — all warring inside me. I realized, for the first time, that silence could wound as much as words, and that some truths were unbearable to witness.

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