The brothers who fought for me (by Levi Bennett) novel Chapter 21

**A Promise Lost Between Two Worlds by Jaxon Hale Ryder**

**Chapter 21**

“Did Ezzie do this?”

The question hung heavy in the air, thick with accusation and despair.

“What did he do to you this time?!”

Giovanni’s voice was raw, a mix of disbelief and anger, as his fingers instinctively traced the angry marks on Juliette’s neck. He rubbed at the bruises as if his touch could somehow erase the evidence of another man’s cruelty.

“What are you doing!”

“Giovanni, let go!”

Juliette’s voice was laced with desperation as she struggled against his grip. She pounded her fists against the hand that clamped tightly around her neck, her legs kicking out wildly in a futile attempt to break free.

But Giovanni stood before her like an unyielding fortress; no matter how fiercely she fought, he remained immovable, a mountain of pent-up rage and sorrow.

A whimper escaped her lips, pain radiating from the raw skin on her neck where his fingers had pressed too hard.

After what felt like an eternity of torment, Giovanni finally released her.

He stepped back, his breath coming in ragged gasps, as if he had only just emerged from a trance.

His dark eyes fell upon Juliette’s neck, now a vivid crimson, with patches scraped raw and glistening with tiny beads of blood.

Juliette’s wide eyes reflected a storm of emotions—anger, fear, and something else, something deeper.

Giovanni’s heart constricted painfully in his chest, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stammered, “Julie, I…”

“Smack!”

The sound of her slap echoed in the room, sharp and unforgiving.

Juliette had poured every ounce of her strength into that strike; her palm still tingled, a reminder of the fierce resolve that had surged through her.

She glared at Giovanni, whose head had been knocked to the side by her blow, her chest rising and falling rapidly with the force of her emotions.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that she would find herself striking the person who had once been her everything, just as she had struck Ezekiel.

A warm, large hand enveloped her numb left hand, his fingertips tenderly kneading her reddened palm, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded.

In that moment of tenderness, Juliette found herself lost in memories that surged forth like a tidal wave, overwhelming her senses.

“Gio, Ezekiel was being a jerk again today. I hit him, and now my hand hurts.”

The young man had taken her hand, his touch gentle and reassuring as he spoke, his voice a soothing balm: “Force is mutual. If you hit him with a ten, you’ll feel a seven yourself.”

“If he bullies you again, tell me. I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay.”

The memories flooded her heart, bittersweet and sharp, leaving an ache that was almost too much to bear.

Suddenly, Juliette yanked her hand away, breaking the fragile connection between them.

Giovanni’s palm fell empty, and it felt as though a piece of his very soul had been taken with it, leaving behind a hollow ache that throbbed in his chest.

He gazed at her, his expression a mixture of confusion and hurt, while Juliette lowered her eyes, unable to meet his gaze, focusing instead on the ground beneath her feet.

An oppressive silence enveloped them, stretching out like a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge.

Finally, Giovanni’s low, hoarse voice broke the stillness, “Julie, let’s start over.”

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