Grave of the Mafia’s Love Chapter 03
Julian stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, quietly gazing at the night sky and the city lights outside.
I remembered the first time I saw him; he was looking out the window too, and he looked very lonely.
I was soaked to the bone from the rain, but I still charged at him and landed a hard punch.
“Keep your mother in line! Don’t let her ruin my family!”
Yes. Julian’s mother cheated on her husband and slept with my dad. My mom became depressed because of it and divorced my dad.
At the time, I didn’t understand that none of this had anything to do with the child.
Julian was more mature than I was. After I hit him, he just gently wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, then took off his jacket and gave it to me.
He was always good to me after that.
He would sneak milk and chocolate bars into my locker, and he would wait in line for two hours just to save me a sunny spot by the window at the library. When my mother had a schizophrenic episode, he protected me and took the slap meant for me.
Julian would wipe away my tears time and time again and hold me close.
“I’ll protect you, Sylvia. I swear, I’ll always protect you.”
By then, I was no longer a child; I knew how much I needed him, and I loved him.
So, on those evenings, I wrote countless letters; colorful sheets of paper were scattered all over the floor. Every day, I would write him a new one, and this undoubtedly brought us closer together.
It wasn’t until days before Parents Weekend that Helen Cartwright checked each child’s locker.
Ever since then, everything had spiraled out of control.
In Helen’s own version of the story, I mocked Julian as the child of a homewrecker, while his father—who had watched his wife cheat on him—was a hopeless loser.
Julian’s father fainted in court due to excessive stress and had become vegetable ever since.
My mother angrily took me home and locked me in my room.
I struggled to climb out the window to go find Julian and explain.
But the way he looked at me was as if I were a stranger, a monster.
“It was my mistake to fall in love with you. But what exactly did my father do wrong?”
He threw the carefully wrapped lilies down at my feet; the graduation card was covered in mud.
“Get lost. I never want to see you again.”
It was raining heavily again that day, and I walked home in tears, not noticing the dark alleyway nearby.
A gang of thugs ruthlessly kidnapped me and tore my clothes off deep in an alley.
I was pressed into the dirt, and the smell of cheap cologne almost choked me. With trembling fingers, I tapped on “Recent Calls”—it was Julian’s number.
“…Julian, please… help me…” I cried out in anguish.
But on the phone, his voice was cold.
“Don’t you hate women like my mother? You’re turning into one yourself.”
“Congratulations.”
He hung up as soon as he finished speaking.
They didn’t find me until the next day. My right arm was broken, my body was covered in wounds, and I was unrecognizable.
My mother’s condition became worse, and she ended up in a psychiatric hospital.
I wasn’t able to finish my final year of high school, and I missed the entire college application season.
Julian, however, was accepted to Yale University.
By the time Helen found me, I had already been working at the chemical plant for several years, and my leukemia was nearing its final stages.
I clutched her hand and wept. “I’ll go on living.”
She gave me a hug and covered the full cost of my chemotherapy.
But by the second round of chemotherapy, my willpower had completely broken down.
The TV in the hospital room was showing an interview with Julian, in which he discussed the Vance Family’s charitable foundation and announced his engagement.
I curled up in bed, too weak to cry.
I realized that the misunderstanding between him and me could never be resolved.
After that day, I gave up on all treatment.
Everyone had abandoned me.
I abandoned myself, too.
A month later, my vital signs had dropped to a point where there was little cause for optimism, and the nurses rushed in to resuscitate me.
Just then, loud laughter echoed down the hallway. Julian and his fiancée had come to attend a charity event.
Machines were beeping all around me, nurses were bustling back and forth, and I was lying in bed, coughing up a large mouthful of blood.
Julian walked past the door to my hospital room just as they were covering me with a white sheet.
The sound of shattering glass snapped me out of my memories.
Julian stood calmly in front of the shattered floor-to-ceiling window, blood trickling from his fingertips.
“Cancel my morning meeting. Go to that address.”
“I want to see how miserable her life is now.”
