His Friend, My Living Hell

Grace Keller POV:

The hospital room door flew open with such force it slammed against the wall, jolting me from a fitful, pain-ridden sleep.

Julian stood there, his face a mask of pure fury. Before I could even register what was happening, he had ripped the blankets off me and hauled me out of bed. The sudden movement sent a fresh wave of agony through my broken ribs. I cried out, my legs buckling beneath me.

"Where is she?" he roared, his face inches from mine, his breath hot with rage. "What did you do with Fabiola?"

"What are you talking about?" I gasped, clutching my aching side. "I've been here, in this bed."

He didn't listen. He shoved something at me, something small and sharp. It was one of my own diamond stud earrings, the one I thought I' d lost. It was covered in blood.

"Her security team found this at her apartment," he snarled. "The place was ransacked. There was blood everywhere. She's gone, Grace. And you are the only person with a motive."

"No," I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief. "Julian, this is a setup. She's doing this to frame me. Again!"

His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my throat. "Liar," he hissed, his grip tightening. Stars exploded behind my eyes as my air supply was cut off. He truly believed I was capable of this. He believed her, a woman who had systematically destroyed me, over me, his wife.

"I... can't... breathe," I choked out, my hands clawing at his.

He held me there for a terrifying moment longer before flinging me away. I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air.

"You want to play games, Grace?" he said, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "Fine. We'll play."

He snapped his fingers. Two of his guards appeared, dragging a whimpering, terrified figure into the room.

It was my brother, Bryan. They had brought him from the prison.

"What are you doing?" I screamed, scrambling to my knees.

They didn't answer. They dragged Bryan outside, onto the hospital's rooftop helipad. I saw them tie his hands behind his back, forcing him to stand at the very edge. Below him, the city lights swam dizzily. A car, one of Julian' s, sat idling a few feet away, its headlights pinning my brother like a frightened animal.

"Julian, no!" I sobbed, crawling towards him, grabbing the hem of his pants. "Please, don't do this!"

The car's engine revved. It lurched forward, its bumper nudging Bryan's legs, pushing him closer to the precipice. He cried out in terror.

"Admit it, Grace," Julian said, his voice as cold as the grave. "Admit you had something to do with Fabiola's disappearance."

"I didn't! I swear to you, I had nothing to do with it!" I wailed, my heart shattering into a million pieces. "Why are you doing this to me? To us?"

He gave a signal. The car lurched forward again, more forcefully this time. I heard a sickening crack, and Bryan screamed, a sound of pure agony. His leg was broken.

"Ten," Julian began to count, his voice calm and even. "Nine..."

"Please, stop!" I begged, tears streaming down my face. "I'll say whatever you want, just make it stop!"

He just laughed, a hollow, mirthless sound. "Eight... seven..."

The car engine roared again.

"NO!" I shrieked. My mind snapped. An animalistic surge of adrenaline propelled me forward. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the fire in my ribs, and ran. I ran towards my brother, my only thought to shield him with my own body.

"Grace, no!" Julian's voice was sharp with alarm, a flicker of panic in his eyes for the first time.

He was too late.

The car, already in motion, couldn't stop. I threw myself in front of Bryan just as the vehicle slammed into me. The impact was a brutal, bone-shattering explosion of force. I was thrown through the air like a rag doll, landing in a crumpled heap several feet away.

The world went red. I tasted blood. A thick, warm stream of it spilled from my lips.

Julian rushed to my side, his face a canvas of horror and disbelief. He gathered me into his arms, his hands trembling. "Grace... oh God, Grace, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

His phone rang. An assistant's frantic voice crackled through the speaker. "Mr. Pena, we found her! We found Ms. Barron! She was at a spa resort upstate, her phone was off. She's fine!"

Fine. She was fine.

Julian froze, his eyes locked on my face, the truth of what he had done crashing down on him. He had tortured me, broken my brother, and nearly killed me, all for nothing. All for a lie.

He looked from my blood-splattered face to my brother, who was now being untied, then back to me. His choice was instantaneous.

"Get a medic for her," he snapped at one of his men, his voice strained. Then, into the phone, "Where is Fio? I'm on my way."

He was leaving me. Again. To go to her.