He Never Loved Me Until the Day I Finally Left Him novel Chapter 707

Donovan's face went from an angry red to a sickening shade of purple.

Helena was paralyzed.

She knew Julian's explosive temper, but right now, she was caught dead in the crossfire.

"Julian..." she pleaded, trying to defuse the bomb.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. "Stay out of this. You don't even know how to defend yourself! I'm the only one who has the right to be mad at you!"

With one sentence, he completely nuked the patriarch's authority.

The two men were seconds away from tearing each other apart.

The housekeeper, terrified by the screaming, sprinted into the room.

"Listen to me," Julian growled. "As long as I say so, no one touches her. I brought her here today to set the record straight, not to let you treat her like trash. We are handling this. Stay out of my business."

His words left absolutely no room for debate.

Helena and the housekeeper exchanged terrified looks, neither daring to step in.

They both knew how dangerous Julian could be when he snapped.

Trying to calm him down would only make it worse.

The housekeeper hurried over to Donovan, desperately trying to soothe the old man's rage.

Julian seized Helena's wrist and dragged her out, slamming the heavy oak doors behind them.

Even through the wood, she could hear the echoes of his fury ringing down the hall.

But the damage was done.

If Donovan actually had any control over Julian, they never would have ended up in this situation.

Julian practically shoved her into the passenger seat and threw himself behind the wheel.

As they tore out of the estate gates, she finally found her voice.

"You shouldn't have talked to him like that. He had every right to be furious," she sighed.

"So you want me to turn the car around and let him scream at you for another hour?" he snapped, his jaw clenched tight.

Helena fell silent.

Suddenly, she understood exactly why Donovan couldn't handle him.

Julian was entirely immune to threats and guilt trips.

In fact, the only person he ever showed an ounce of patience to was her.

Instead, he just stared her dead in the eye and hit decline.

She stood there, feeling a nauseating mix of relief and dread.

He tossed the phone onto the sofa.

He didn't physically stop her from picking it back up.

But the look he gave her was chillingly absolute.

She held his gaze, refusing to flinch.

She knew exactly what was coming.

"We are ending this sick game with Sebastian right now," Julian stated. It wasn't a request; it was a lethal ultimatum. "If you don't give a damn about yourself, at least think about Skye. She's been dragged into the tabloids twice now. Our luck is going to run out."

He bit out every word, barely keeping a lid on his rage.

"I know," she whispered.

Surprisingly, he didn't keep drilling into her over the affair.

But she was smart enough not to push her luck.

Instead, he walked over to his briefcase, pulled out a thick file, and slammed it onto the coffee table right in front of her.