Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Master of the House

The iron gates of the Vance estate groaned as they swung open, a sound that used to make my stomach drop in my teens. Back then, it sounded like a prison door closing. Today, as I drove my modest but sturdy SUV up the winding gravel path, it sounded like an invitation to a fight.

The mansion sat on the hill like a sleeping beast of limestone and glass. It was beautiful, cold, and utterly soulless. As I stepped out of the car, the mountain air nipped at my skin, smelling of pine and the expensive fertilizer Caspian used to keep the lawns a perfect, unnatural emerald.

I smoothed the front of my white coat. I hadn't changed. I wanted him to see the doctor. I wanted him to see the woman who saved lives, standing in the driveway of the man who only knew how to buy them.

I didn't knock. I still had the muscle memory of the keypad code, a string of numbers I’d tried to scrub from my brain for five years. 4-0-2-1. The date we were married. The lock clicked with a heavy, mechanical thud, and I pushed the door open.

The foyer was a cathedral of silence. The marble floors were polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the massive crystal chandelier that hung like a frozen rainstorm from the ceiling. It was exactly as I had left it, yet it felt smaller. Or maybe I was just bigger.

"Jade?"

The voice came from the top of the grand staircase. Caspian was standing there, a glass of dark amber liquid in his hand. He wasn't wearing a tie. His shirt was half-unzipped, his hair disheveled. He looked like a man who had been haunted by a ghost and had finally decided to start drinking with it.

He moved down the stairs with a frantic sort of grace, his eyes locked on mine as if he feared I would evaporate if he blinked. "You came. I didn't think... I hoped, but I didn't think you’d ever step foot in this house again."

"Don't get romantic, Caspian," I said, my voice echoing off the high walls. "I’m not here for a tour of our 'happy memories.' I’m here because your fiancée—or whatever Bianca Rossi is to you these days—just walked into my hospital and threatened our son."

The glass in Caspian’s hand didn't just shake; it shattered.

He didn't even flinch as the crystal shards sprayed across the marble or as the bourbon soaked into his expensive rug. His face went from pale to a terrifying, bruised purple. The air in the room suddenly felt pressurized, the "intimidating billionaire" being replaced by something much darker. The Mafia bloodline wasn't just a rumor; I could see it in the way his jaw locked and his eyes turned into chips of gray ice.

"She went to the hospital?" he whispered, the words coming out like a death sentence. "She laid eyes on you?"

"She threatened my medical license, Caspian. She threatened to have the Rossi family 'remove' Leo and me like we were pests," I stepped closer, my heels clicking a sharp, angry rhythm against the floor. I stopped when I was inches from him, close enough to see the pulse thrumming in his neck. "She thinks she has power because of her name. She thinks she can touch what is mine."

Caspian reached out, his hand hovering near my waist, wanting to touch me but held back by a sudden, sharp wall of respect. "She won't. I will kill her with my own hands before she breathes the same air as Leo again."

"No," I said, my voice dropping to a silk-wrapped blade. "You aren't going to kill her. That’s too easy. You’re going to do exactly what I tell you."

I pulled a folded piece of paper from my pocket—the copy of the Breeding Contract I had grabbed from my files. I shoved it against his chest.

"Bianca thinks she can ruin me with gossip about my past. She thinks the 'vessel' is a scandal that will break me. But she’s wrong," I leaned in, my lips nearly touching his ear, a "Rated 18" spark of electricity jumping between us despite the hatred. "We’re going to leak it ourselves, Caspian. But not as a scandal. We’re going to frame it as the ultimate Vance family secret—a contract that you broke because you fell in love with the 'specimen.' We’re going to make the Rossi family look like the outsiders trying to tear apart a 'star-crossed' family."

Caspian looked down at the contract, the paper that symbolized his greatest sin. His eyes were wet, a look of "reckless hope" flaring in the gray depths. "You want me to tell the world I loved you? Jade, I’ll tell them from the rooftops. I’ll admit every lie I ever told if it means I can stand by you."

"I don't care if it's true, Caspian," I snapped, pulling back. "I care that it’s effective. We use the Vance PR machine to bury the Rossis. We make Bianca look like a delusional stalker. We protect my license, and we protect Leo’s future. That is the only reason I am in this house."

Caspian’s face fell, the "falling king" realizing that his redemption was still miles away. "And after? After we destroy them?"

"After that, you go back to your boardrooms, and I go back to my OR," I said.

I turned to leave, but Caspian’s hand shot out, catching my arm. He didn't pull me; he just held me there, his touch searing through the fabric of my coat.

"Jade, wait," he breathed. "Just... stay for dinner. For one hour. Leo is with your neighbor, Sarah said. Just one hour where we don't talk about contracts or Mafia families. Just an hour where I can look at the woman I was too stupid to keep."

The "smoldering allure" in his voice was a trap, a familiar, warm current that tried to pull me back into the deep end. I looked at his hand on my arm, then up at his face. He looked like a man who was starving, and I was the only meal in the world.

"I have a surgery at 5:00 AM, Caspian," I said, my voice softening just a fraction—the first "human" crack in my armor. "But I suppose a doctor should always monitor a patient in critical condition."

The look of relief on his face was almost enough to make me regret it.