LOGINVENUS
I wiped my eyes before stepping into Mom’s ward. They must’ve been swollen. I hadn't stopped crying since dawn, and Dain? Still not picking up. “Hey, Mom,” I said, faking a smile so fragile it could crack if she blinked too hard. Her expression shifted instantly. “Venus, what’s wrong? You’ve been crying.” Of course she saw through it. She always does. “Yeah… my boss is being an ass again,” I lied. The truth would break her. And I couldn’t add one more crack to her already-fractured world. “Venus—” she started softly. “It was my fault. I don’t wanna talk about it,” I muttered, brushing it off like it didn’t weigh a ton. She didn’t push. Just reached for my hand. “Okay, darling. You don’t have to.” I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Did Dain come by?” “No... is he back home?” Her voice lifted, blooming with a hope that made me sick. That man didn’t deserve her hope. “No. He hasn’t.” My voice turned cold, sharp and bitter. She noticed. “Venus—” “I should go. You need rest. Chemo starts next week.” Another lie. It scorched my throat. God, I needed to make it true before it killed her. We hugged. She smelled like antiseptic and lavender. I held on too long. Then I left. The hospital was close, but each step felt like dragging a dead body—mine. The weight of hopelessness pressed on my shoulders, heavy and relentless. I kept hearing it—his voice. Marry me. Was he serious? Was it a game? A trap he’d enjoy watching me writhe in? The thought sickened me. The fact I was considering it? Worse. When I reached home, the front door was cracked open. No. I knew I locked it. I stepped in and there he was. Dain. Sprawled on the couch, reeking of sweat and stale alcohol. Passed out, useless. Disgust burned up my throat. I grabbed a cup, filled it with water, and dumped it on his face. “Get up, you asshole.” He bolted upright, sputtering. “What the fuck?! You little—” “You stole my money, Dain! Where is it?!” His bloodshot eyes lit up with smugness. “You had that much stashed and let Billy rough me up for peanuts? Selfish little bitch.” “You were never supposed to touch it. It was for Mom’s chemo.” He scoffed. “Why bother? She’s dying anyway.” That was it. “Shut up,” I snarled. “Shut your fucking mouth!” And then he slapped me. Hard. “That’s no way to talk to your father,” he slurred. “Didn’t your mother teach you—” I snapped. My eyes locked on a broken shard of glass near the table. I grabbed it, hand trembling but firm. “Get out. Now. Or I swear to God, I’ll gut you.” He paused. Blinked. The threat landed. He raised his hands, backing away. “Let’s not be hasty—” “I said get out!” I screamed, lunging a step forward. He stumbled. Then bolted. As the door slammed shut, I collapsed. Sinking to my knees, hands shaking, chest heaving. Then the tears came—violent, uncontrollable. Not soft sobs. This was grief, rage, helplessness all tangled in one. I sat in that storm for a long time. When the shaking slowed, I cleaned the house like it could scrub my shame. But I couldn’t outrun one thought: Mr. Sinclair. Maybe I should’ve listened. Maybe I should’ve asked more questions. Maybe—just maybe—he was serious. I hated him. Hated how cold he was. How powerful. How he always seemed ten steps ahead. But I had nothing left. Desperate people make stupid choices. I picked up my phone. He answered on the fourth ring. “About your offer…” My voice was hollow. “Were you serious?” “Yes.” No hesitation. No emotion. Just cold certainty. “Then I’ll take it,” I whispered. My pride shattered like glass on tile. “Good,” he said. Like he knew I’d fold. “We’ll discuss the terms tomorrow. At the office.” Click. Just like that, I traded my freedom for hope. If it saves her... maybe it’s worth it.VENUS The moment the door slammed behind Gerald, the silence hit me like a physical blow. For a long breath, I just sat there. Staring at the metal door. Listening to the fading echoes of his chains, the fading sound of his laughter, the fading ghost of his final words: You’ll never find her. My stomach twisted. My vision blurred. I gripped the edges of the table until my fingers burned, grounding myself in the cold metal because everything else felt like it was slipping. I forced myself to stand. My body didn’t appreciate that. Pain shot through my ribs, sharp and white-hot, slicing through the thin layer of adrenaline that had carried me through the confrontation. The room tilted for a second, walls leaning in, and I pressed my hand against the table until I found balance again. Then I walked. One foot. Then the other. Each step felt like dragging weights through mud. The guard outside straightened immediately when I pushed the door open. His smugness was gone, now repla
VENUSThe door clanged shut behind Gerald, the echo scraping down my spine like cold metal fingers. He shuffled forward in slow, deliberate steps, the chains on his ankles rattling with each movement. His wrists were pinned tight in front of him, silver cuffs biting into skin that looked both paler and meaner than I remembered.He watched me.Not the way normal people look at someone they hurt.Not with remorse.Not even curiosity.He looked at me like I was a painting he’d memorized long ago and was now examining for damage. He sat in the metal chair opposite mine. The guard behind him stepped back but didn’t leave the room.I forced my voice steady. “Can we have the room, please?”The guard hesitated, eyes flicking between me and Gerald like he wasn’t sure which one of us was the danger here. Smart man. He inclined his head toward the door.“I’ll be right outside,” he said. “And there are cameras. If anything happens—”“I understand,” I cut in.His jaw tightened, but he stepped out
VENUS I woke to the soft hum of machines and the faint antiseptic chill that seeped into every inch of the hospital room. For a moment, I didn’t move. I just stared at the ceiling — too white, too bright, too empty — and tried to make sense of the pounding behind my eyes.My body felt heavy, thick with the sedative Aaron had insisted on. I remembered fighting it, begging him not to let them put me under. I remembered his voice — low, apologetic, breaking somewhere around the edges — as the world blurred and dissolved.Now, the world was painfully sharp again.A soft snore drew my eyes sideways.Sabine sat hunched in the chair beside my bed, her head resting awkwardly on her folded arms. Her curls spilled over her elbows, rising and falling with her breaths. She must have fought sleep until her body gave out. Her hand was still on the side of my mattress, like she’d been holding it.But Aaron wasn’t here.The space he’d occupied last night — the shadow in the corner, the anchor when e
IRIS I wake up because something is shaking.Not gentle shaking, like when Mommy tries to wake me up for school and says, “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”This is rough. Like someone grabbed my shoulder and moved me too fast.My head hurts. My eyes feel sticky. My mouth tastes like when I forget to brush my teeth after eating candy.Everything is blurry.Everything is loud.The car is moving but I don’t know where it’s taking me. The window beside me shows trees, then light, then shadows and I don’t know any of them. There’s a man in the front seat and another beside me. They’re big. Too big. Their clothes are dark and their voices sound like rocks rolling.I try to sit up.The man beside me pushes me back. “Sit still.”I don’t want to sit still.I want George.I want Sabine Jr.I want Mommy.I want Daddy.“Where’s my brother?” My voice comes out tiny. It sounds like someone else. Not me.They don’t answer.“Where’s my mom?” I try again. “Where’s George? He—he was holding my hand. He wa
AARONLucas Derrane’s name was barely out of his mouth before the metallic taste of anger hit my tongue — cold, measured, razor-edged. I leaned back just enough for him to feel the space between us shrink, the weight of my attention locking him in place. His breath hitched.“You staged an interaction to make it look like I was cheating on my wife,” I said.Lucas’s shoulders snapped tight like a man bracing for a blow. “I didn’t stage anything,” he blurted. “I—I was paid to put some kind of substance in the air conditioning. That’s it.”Connor’s jaw flexed beside me. Colton didn’t move, but I felt him lean forward — the subtle shift of a predator catching a scent.I kept my voice level. “Who was your partner?”“P-partner?” His confusion looked real — but fear often did.“There were two of you in the footage,” I said. “Don’t test me, Lucas.”He flinched. “I swear, I don’t know who he is. They said someone would meet me in the lobby and hand me the package. We didn’t talk. We just plante
AARON I stood there for a long moment after she slipped under, my hand still wrapped around hers even though her fingers had gone slack. Sedation had stolen the fight from her body — but not from her face. Even in sleep, she looked like a woman braced for impact, like she might wake any second and sprint barefoot into hell if it meant getting Iris back.God, she’d fought. She’d bled. She’d torn her own body apart to keep those kids alive. And they had still taken our daughter.The thought alone made something sharp and lethal coil inside my chest.I let out a slow breath and finally straightened. The nurse nodded once at me — a small gesture of understanding — then slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with the soft hum of machines and Venus’s even breaths.The quiet was unbearable.I dragged a hand through my hair. Three days of leads and dead ends. Three days of watching systems I controlled, networks I built, and contacts who owed me everything come back with the same infuriat







