Deeply Trapped: My Paranoid Uncle's Private Property

The autumn rain in New York always carried a refreshing chill.

Elena Vance stood in front of the heavy mahogany door of the Sterling mansion, her thin shoulders trembling slightly. The washed-out school uniform she was wearing was already soaked through by the rain, clinging to her body and making her look even more slender and weak, like a willow branch that would break with a single snap.

"Miss Elena, why don't you go in?" Butler Mark walked over with an umbrella, a hint of pity flashing in his eyes.

Elena bit her lip and asked in a low, timid voice, "Is Uncle... home?"

Hearing the word "Uncle," Mark's expression straightened, and his tone became respectful: "Master Julian just returned and is handling official business in his study. Old Master Sterling has instructed that if you return, you should wait in the living room first."

Elena's heart tightened.

The Sterling family was a top-tier wealthy family in New York, and she was an orphan adopted by Old Master Sterling when she was ten years old. Although she held the title of the Sterling family's adopted daughter, in the eyes of the true Sterling descendants, she was just a poor creature living under someone else's roof.

And Julian Sterling was the youngest power-holder of the Sterling family and the most outstanding third son of Old Master Sterling. He had absolute authority in the Sterling family, being cold, strict, and unfeeling—a presence everyone feared and respected.

Elena changed her shoes and walked inside along the spiral staircase. Several younger members of the Sterling family were sitting in the living room, gathered together and laughing.

"Oh, the little beggar is back?" The speaker was Vanessa Lin, the niece of Mrs. Sterling. She squinted her eyes and looked at Elena's disheveled appearance, sneering, "What, didn't bring an umbrella? Or did you get soaked so miserably on purpose, hoping to win someone's sympathy?"

"I didn't..." Elena lowered her head, her voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz.

"Didn't? I see your seductive look and know you have bad intentions." Vanessa stood up, walked to Elena, and fanned the air in disgust, "A poor smell of rain, stay away from me."

Elena's nails sank deep into her palms. She was used to this kind of humiliation.

Just then, a low cold snort suddenly came from upstairs.

"What's the noise."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a pressure that allowed no questioning. The living room instantly became so quiet that a needle could be heard falling.

Elena looked up abruptly, only to see a man slowly walking down from the second floor. He was wearing a dark gray silk shirt, with two collar buttons undone, revealing a cold white collarbone. Those eyes behind the gold-rimmed glasses were deep and sharp, as if they could see through people's hearts.

It was Julian Sterling.

Vanessa immediately changed to a smiling face and called out delicately: "Uncle, you're off work."

Julian didn't even give her a look, walking straight to Elena and stopping.

Elena felt her breathing was about to stop. The man's shadow enveloped her, and that cold, high-end woody fragrance mixed with a faint tobacco scent instantly occupied her senses.

He looked down at her wet school uniform, his brow furrowed slightly.

"What happened?"

"On the way back... the rain suddenly got heavier." Elena didn't dare look into his eyes, answering in a small voice.

Julian turned to look at the butler, his tone as cold as ice: "In the future, on rainy days, send a car to the school to pick her up."

"Yes, Master Julian," Mark quickly responded.

Julian withdrew his gaze, and as he passed Elena, his voice was barely audible but carried an unquestionable command: "Go upstairs and change your clothes, then come to my study."

Half an hour later, Elena Vance had showered, changed into a clean cotton nightgown, and stood awkwardly at the study door.

The nightgown was a conservative style, but it still couldn't hide her already beginning-to-take-shape exquisite curves. She held a bowl of freshly cooked ginger soup in her hands, which Mark had instructed her to bring up.

"Knock knock."

"Come in."

The man's steady voice sounded. Elena pushed the door open and entered. Only a warm yellow desk lamp was on in the study. Julian Sterling was sitting on a leather swivel chair, gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, looking through documents with a focused expression.

Elena walked over and placed the porcelain bowl gently on the table: "Uncle, drink some ginger soup to get rid of the cold."

Julian didn't look up, just giving a faint response. Elena put down the bowl and was about to turn and leave when she heard the man speak unexpectedly.

"In school, is someone bullying you?"

Elena's steps suddenly stopped, her fingertips nervously twisting together. She indeed wasn't doing well in school. Vanessa Lin and those people often did small things behind her back, even deliberately throwing her schoolbag into the pool.

But she never mentioned it, because she knew Julian was busy. The Sterling family was a business to him, and she was just a negligible decoration in that business.

"No... no." She lowered her eyelashes and lied guiltily.

Julian finally put down the pen in his hand, took off his glasses, rubbed his brow, and then looked up at her. Those deep eyes carried a power of scrutiny.

"Elena, look into my eyes."

He rarely called her that.

Elena was forced to meet his gaze, which reflected her uneasy figure.

"I heard what Vanessa Lin said in the living room." Julian leaned back in his chair, his slender fingers rhythmically tapping the table, "I said, once you enter the Sterling family's door, you are a member of the Sterling family. You don't need to endure when you're wronged. The girl I, Julian Sterling, raise is not for others to vent their anger on."

Elena's eyes instantly turned sour, and tears welled up in them. She bit her lip, her voice carrying a trace of restrained trembling: "Uncle, will you believe me? If I say... I didn't deliberately win sympathy, will you believe me too?"

Julian stood up and crossed to her in two steps.

The man's tall figure carried a heavy sense of pressure, yet it made Elena feel an unprecedented peace of mind.

He reached out, seemingly wanting to pat the top of her head, but the moment his fingertips touched her hair, the movement became exceptionally gentle. He tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, his voice low and firm.

"I believe."

He paused, a trace of restraint in his tone that even he hadn't noticed.

"With me, you never need evidence. Go rest, no one will dare to bully you in the future."

Elena's heart trembled violently, and she left the study as if escaping. What she didn't know was that after she left, Julian looked at the bowl of ginger soup, his eyes dark and unreadable, and he didn't move for a long time.

Time flew by, and under Julian Sterling's almost harsh yet meticulous protection, Elena Vance welcomed her nineteenth year.

At nineteen, Elena had shed her former youthfulness and thinness, growing into a blooming gardenia—cold, pure, yet carrying a soul-stirring charm.

That night, it was a celebration banquet held at the Sterling mansion to celebrate the successful completion of the Sterling Group's overseas project.

At the banquet, glasses clinked. Elena wore an ivory white evening gown, like an elegant swan, but she stayed quietly in the corner, her gaze following the spirited man in the center of the crowd.

Julian Sterling wore a pure black suit tonight. The gold-rimmed glasses made him look increasingly refined and abstinent, but Elena knew how decisive and ruthless the means hidden under that skin were.

He was surrounded by many socialites and ladies. Elena felt a panic in her heart watching this, so she quietly left her seat, preparing to go to the back garden to get some air.

While passing the corridor, her wrist was suddenly tightly gripped by a burning palm.

"Mmm—!"

She let out a soft cry, and in a whirl, she was pushed into the lounge at the end of the corridor.

The door closed with a "bang," isolating the noise of the banquet outside.

Elena's back was against the cold door panel, looking at the man in front of her with lingering fear.

"Uncle?"

Julian wasn't wearing his glasses. His eyes were full of red bloodshot, his breathing was heavy, and he carried a strong scent of alcohol. His hands were propped on either side of Elena, strictly imprisoning her in his arms.

That was a Julian Sterling Elena had never seen—crazy, paranoid, and even carrying a trace of... vulnerability.

"Elena..." He bowed his head, resting his forehead against her shoulder hollow. His burning breath puffed against her collarbone, bringing waves of trembling.

"You're drunk, I'll go call Mark to come over..." Elena wanted to reach out and push him away, but found the man's body was hard as iron.

"Don't call him." Julian suddenly looked up, his large hand pinching her waist, the strength so great it felt like he wanted to rub her into his own flesh and blood, "And don't call me Uncle... please."

Elena was stunned, somewhat confused: "Don't call you Uncle... then what should I call you?"

Julian stared fixedly at her red lips. The love and desire suppressed for thousands of days and nights deep in his eyes completely burst at this moment.

"Call my name, Julian Sterling."

Before Elena could react, the man's burning breath swept over her overwhelmingly.

That was Elena's first kiss.

Julian's kiss was not gentle; it carried a kind of almost predatory madness. Between his lips and teeth, Elena could even taste the bitter wine and extreme deep affection.

"Julian..." In her oxygen-deprived daze, she subconsciously murmured these two words.

Feeling her response, the man's body shook violently, as if he had received some kind of pardon. He kissed even more uncontrollably, almost wanting to tear her apart and eat her.

That night, the Sterling family's taboo was personally broken by him.