Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 53

The packhouse was quiet, bathed in that pale stillness that came just after sunrise.

Julian parked in the drive, cutting the engine and sitting there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel like it might hold the answers to the chaos in his head. He exhaled, rubbed a hand over his face, and stepped out—the cool morning air hitting his skin like a quiet reprimand.

He slipped inside, his footsteps soundless on the polished floor. The halls were empty—mercifully so. No staff. No father. No Elara waiting to pounce like a predator.

Maybe, for once, the universe would spare him. Maybe he could make it to his room unnoticed.

He only wanted a shower—ten minutes of peace before everyone started tearing into him.

“Julian.”

The voice stopped him cold. Stern. Controlled.

He turned slowly, shoulders tensing. His father stood at the far end of the hall, arms crossed, gaze sharp as a blade. “A word,” he said, already turning toward the conference room.

Julian shut his eyes briefly, muttering under his breath, “Of course.”

He followed. The walk down the corridor felt longer than it should have, every step dragging him closer to the inevitable—to the questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

When he stepped into the conference room, the sight that greeted him made him drag a hand through his hair with a groan.

Jace stood beside the table, arms folded, that familiar look of exhausted loyalty written all over him. His mother sat quietly near the end of the oak table, her gaze flicking from her mate to her son with calm, quiet focus.

Julian let out a low sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Great,” he muttered. “A family ambush.”

Julian closed the door behind him, the click sharper than he meant, slicing through the heavy quiet of the room.

His father moved to take the seat beside his mother, posture rigid, hands clasped neatly on the table. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from them.

“I’m fine standing,” Julian replied, voice even.

His father’s gaze didn’t waver. “Sit down, Julian.”

The command held no room for argument. He exhaled through his nose and sank into the chair, resting his forearms on his knees, head bowed slightly.

For a moment, no one spoke. His father simply looked at him—steady, assessing, disappointment etched into every line of his face.

Then, finally, he broke the silence. “Where were you last night?”

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