Chapter 189: Chapter 189: A Vow Beneath the Stars

Julian Sterling listened quietly, his expression unreadable. He was not surprised by the man’s answer; in fact, he found a strange comfort in its ruthlessness. It was the truth. If Ethan had claimed he would have been devastated over the death of a stranger he had never met, a boy who was merely a name on a marriage contract, it would have reeked of hypocrisy and cheap lies. Ethan Caldwell was not a man of performative grief.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Julian withdrew his gaze from the vast, indifferent heavens above and locked eyes with the man standing before him. In the depths of Ethan’s pupils, darker than the night sky itself, Julian saw his own reflection, small, fragile, yet undeniably present.

“And what about now?” Julian asked softly, the question hanging in the space between them like a suspended drop of water: “If I were to disappear today… would the answer remain the same?”

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The calm, philosophical detachment vanished from Ethan’s face, replaced by a sudden, intense storm. His brows knitted together, forming a deep furrow, and his voice dropped an octave, vibrating with a dangerous, underlying growl.

“Julian… has living with me all this time been so unbearable for you?”

The sudden accusation caught Julian off guard: “What? What kind of crazy nonsense are you spouting?”

“Are you still entertaining thoughts of suicide?” Ethan demanded, his hands tightening slightly where they rested on the car, boxing Julian in: “Or do you feel that being by my side is too much pressure, that I am suffocating you?”

“Ethan Caldwell!” Julian exclaimed, exasperated: “You know perfectly well that is not what I meant! I was just speaking hypothetically! It was a ’what if’ scenario!”

Seeing the young man bristle, his fur standing on end like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, the tension drained from Ethan’s shoulders. A low, affectionate chuckle rumbled in his chest. He leaned forward, closing the remaining distance between them until his forehead rested gently against Julian’s. The heat of his skin and the warmth of his breath mingled with the cold night air, creating a small, intimate cocoon that shielded Julian from the biting wind.

“If it is not because you are dissatisfied with me and plotting your own exit…” Ethan murmured, his voice softening into a solemn vow that seemed to etch itself into the very wind: “Then… listen to me closely, Julian. I will absolutely never let anything happen to you. I will not permit a single soul in this world to harm you. Not now. Not ever.”

Ethan’s tone was not loud, he did not shout or make theatrical declarations. He spoke with the calm, terrifying certainty of a monarch issuing a decree. It was a statement of fact, not a hope. Hearing the dominance and unwavering resolve in those words, Julian’s heart skipped a beat, a traitorous flutter of emotion blooming in his chest.

Flustered by the intensity of the moment, Julian instinctively retreated behind a shield of playful mockery to hide his own vulnerability.

“Is that so?” Julian scoffed lightly, though his voice lacked any real bite: “You sound very confident, Mr. Caldwell. But from where I am standing, it looks like you can barely guarantee your own safety right now. In the light, you have direct competitors in the business world trying to tear the Caldwell Empire apart. In the shadows, you have people scheming and plotting your downfall. And now, on top of everything else, some bizarre, fanatical organization has popped up out of nowhere, acting like a bunch of lunatics targeting us. Are you sure you aren’t overpromising?”

“Ha ha…”

This time, Ethan laughed aloud, a genuine, hearty sound that was rare for the stoic CEO. His broad, solid chest vibrated with mirth, pressing against Julian’s knees and sending tremors through the younger man’s body. Julian blinked, bewildered, trying to replay his words to figure out what exactly he had said that was so amusing.

The laughter was brief, however. Ethan’s expression sobered as quickly as it had brightened, though a tenderness remained in his eyes. He raised a hand, his thumb, rough and calloused, tracing the soft, elegant line of Julian’s jawline w

ith a reverence reserved for precious artifacts.

“Little Jules.” Ethan said, his voice dropping to a serious, confidential whisper: “Do you remember what I told you before? I said that when you were stronger, when you were ready, I would take you to meet certain people. That I would tell you certain stories about the way this world truly works.”

Julian nodded slowly. In the dim, shifting shadows, it was hard to see clearly, but he sensed Ethan’s gaze tracking his every movement. The man’s deep voice continued, steady and rhythmic, like the beat of a drum in the dark.

“It is still not the right time to give you the full details about them. It is too dangerous, and you are not yet fully prepared.” Ethan admitted: “But… perhaps that time is coming sooner than I anticipated. Through the incident with Dahlia Thorne, you have already brushed against the surface of their existence. I fear the timeline is accelerating. Even if I wanted to hide it from you, I doubt I will be able to for much longer.”

There were nuances in Ethan’s speech that Julian could not fully decipher, layers of history and conflict that remained obscured. Yet, piecing together the fragments of information he had gathered, one name rose to the forefront of his mind. He needed to confirm it.

“Is it… CORE?” Julian asked, the name feeling heavy on his tongue.

Ethan looked at him deeply, then gave a single, grave nod of confirmation.

Julian let out a long, weary sigh, his breath forming a cloud of white mist that dissipated instantly in the wind. It seemed that everything was spiraling further and further away from his original, simple plan. All he had ever wanted was to live a life of peace, far removed from drama and danger. He wanted to be a bystander, not a protagonist in a thriller.

“Do you remember what I said earlier?” Julian whispered, his gaze drifting back to the city lights below: “That I felt sorry for myself?”

“Hmm.” Ethan hummed in acknowledgement, encouraging him to continue.

“Ethan.” Julian began, his voice taking on a reflective, almost melancholy quality: “Before all of this… I had a thought. I told myself, ’Forget it. If I cannot escape, I might as well just marry him’. Perhaps it was because on that very first day we met, you gave me a sense of security, a feeling that I could lean on you. Perhaps it was because you stood up for me against Edward Sterling’s bullying when no one else would. So, I thought to myself… becoming a mobile flower vase, a decorative ornament in the Caldwell household, wouldn’t be such a terrible fate.”

He offered a sad, self-deprecating smile: “And luckily, in that gamble, I emerged the victor. Living in the Caldwell estate is, without a doubt, a thousand times better than the hell of the Sterling family. I truly thought I could just live peacefully like that, a carefree young master with no responsibilities. I never wanted to fight for power. I never wanted to drown in this exhausting whirlpool of money, fame, and intrigue.”

Julian looked down at his hands, pale in the moonlight: “People get caught up in this current, fighting and tearing at each other’s throats… and for what? In the end, what is the point of it all?”

He looked back up at Ethan, his eyes glistening: “But it is a pity. It seems my fate is predetermined to be inextricably linked with the filth and complexity of this world. Even if I want to escape, the exit is barred. I feel sorry… I feel sorry for that child from years ago. That little boy who carried nothing but a fragile hope that the future would be better, who struggled endlessly, crawling forward inch by inch.”

Julian wasn’t just speaking of himself now; his heart ached for the original Julian Sterling, and for the innocence he himself had lost in his previous life. “I feel sorry for the dream he had, a dream so simple it shouldn’t have been impossible, just a warm, quiet home. I mourn for that miserable child. It turns out… human life is truly a cruel, mocking joke.”

As he spoke, the moisture in Julian’s eyes gathered, blurring the magnificent view of the city into streaks of gold and shadow. The world seemed to dissolve into a watery impressionist painting.

Before the first tear could fall, a soft warmth pressed against his face.

Ethan kissed him.

It was not a kiss of passion or lust, but of profound tenderness and cherishing. He kissed Julian’s cheek, then moved to his eyelids, gently kissing away the hot, salty tears that threatened to spill over. The sensation was grounding, pulling Julian back from the precipice of his despair.

“But you are still just a child now, Little Jules.” Ethan whispered against his skin, his voice a balm to Julian’s raw nerves: “There is no need to mourn the past. The future… I promise you, the future will be better. Because I am here. And as long as I am here, you will never have to struggle alone again.”

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