Storms of the Heart novel Chapter 14

A week later, Julian sat behind his wide office desk, a bank check pinched between his fingers.

It had been returned to him exactly the way he had sent it out, not even a single crease on it, as if the fortune it carried was nothing but worthless paper to Trina.

He had been worried she might be struggling overseas and had sent the money to her on purpose.

What came back with the check was only one sentence, relayed through a go-between. It was so cold that it felt like ice. "I can't afford to take General Hauser's money."

He could almost imagine her face when she said it.

Her beautiful brows would be lifted a fraction, carrying that careless pride that was so uniquely hers as she cut him out of her life.

He had gone through every channel he could use, making sure the money would reach her safely so she wouldn't suffer even the slightest hardship in a foreign country.

But she hadn't even bothered to look at it. She had simply sent it straight back and said she couldn't afford to take it.

Those words jabbed into his heart like cold needles.

She had always spent his money like it was the most natural thing in the world.

If she liked a necklace, a dress, or even a limited-edition sports car she had just laid eyes on, she would hook her hand through his arm and coax him, saying, "Julian, buy it for me."

Back then, he had thought she was extravagant, but he had still quietly enjoyed the way she relied on him.

Now, she wouldn't even touch a single cent from him.

That clean, sharp line she had drawn between them suffocated him more than any fight or accusation ever could.

Julian crushed the check into a ball and squeezed it hard in his palm. His knuckles turned white from the force, and his face darkened.

He had nowhere to vent his pent-up frustration, so he carried it straight to the training field.

The midday sun beat down. The soldiers were in the middle of a routine tactical drill.

A nervous new recruit hesitated for a split second while jumping an obstacle. The pause threw off the timing of the rest of the team behind him.

It was just a minor mistake. A bit more practice would have fixed it.

But Julian, who had been standing silently on the sidelines, suddenly barked, "Stop!"

The entire field froze. Every soldier stopped moving and turned to look at him, confused.

Julian strode over to the pale-faced recruit. His eyes were sharp as blades, his voice icy. "Because of you, the rhythm of the entire squad fell apart. On a real battlefield, that tiny hesitation could get your whole unit killed!"

The young recruit was shaking so much that his teeth almost chattered. "Re... Reporting to you, General Hauser! I—"

"Excuses are just cover-ups." Julian cut him off without giving him a chance to speak.

His gaze swept across the entire formation. "Looks like your training's been way too easy. All units, 65-pound load, 30-mile cross-country! Now! Move!"

Shock rippled through the ranks.

A 30-mile run with that kind of weight was practically at the edge of what they could stand. And all of it because of one small mistake?

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