From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 119

**Chapter 5**

His hands, which had been resting limply at my sides, suddenly sprang to life, flexing with a newfound energy.

A soft laugh escaped his lips, yet his eyes shimmered with a glistening sheen that looked suspiciously like unshed tears.

“So, you don’t hate me anymore?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability threading through his voice.

There was a time when I had harbored nothing but disdain for Julian—his meticulous restraint, the way he clung to formality, and his unwavering commitment to rules and expectations had all grated on my nerves.

I had yearned to see that polished exterior shatter, to witness the cracks in his perfect façade.

But now, as I watched the flush of red creep up his collarbone beneath the crisp fabric of his shirt, and noted the subtle movement of his throat as he swallowed, I began to understand that this icy prince aesthetic held a magnetic charm all its own.

Perhaps what had captivated me most all along was the thrill of watching such controlled men tumble from their pedestals.

As his arms encircled me, closing the distance between us until there was no space left, Julian’s cool lips pressed against mine. For a fleeting moment, my mind faltered, caught off guard by the intensity of the kiss.

Then, a wave of desire surged through me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer with an unexpected fierceness.

In a burst of pent-up passion, I bit his lips, trying to pour all my repressed emotions into this stoic figure standing before me.

When Julian took charge, binding my wrists behind my back and pressing me against the steering wheel, I surrendered completely. My hair tumbled wildly over his shoulders, a chaotic contrast to the composed man I was with.

Just then, the phone I had carelessly tossed onto the console erupted into sound, ringing insistently.

I attempted to ignore it, but in my flustered state, I inadvertently hit the answer button.

Rhys’s cold, tense voice cut through the air: “Camden, you left your things at my place.”

“I’ll be in Northbrook for business in a couple of days. I can bring them to you,” I replied, my breathless gasps and the unmistakable sounds of our kissing echoing through the phone.

I pressed my forehead against Julian’s, silently pleading with him to end the call, when suddenly, we heard a crash of breaking glass from Rhys’s end.

“Camden, say something!” Rhys’s voice roared, filled with frustration.

With my hands still trapped behind me by Julian’s firm grip, I felt exposed, my body laid bare to the world. Julian’s fingers pressed against my lips, rubbing them with deliberate slowness, as if to silence me.

His smile was evident in his voice as he responded, “My lady is rather busy at the moment. I don’t think she has time for your call, Mr. Keller.”

Even with the evidence of my bite staining his lip, Julian remained an epitome of composure.

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