Chapter 5: The saint and the Sinner

The silence in Josh De Luca’s office was heavy, smelling of old leather, expensive scotch, and the faint, haunting scent of cedarwood that had lived in my nightmares for five years.

Standing face-to-face with Josh was like staring into a mirror of my own ruin. While Julian was all soft edges and healing hands, Josh was a jagged blade. He stood by the window, the moonlight catching the heavy silver watch on his wrist—the same watch that had been the last thing I saw before the world went black at that party so long ago.

"A ghost," Josh repeated, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that seemed to vibrate the floorboards. He finally turned, his gaze raking over my midnight blue dress with a slow, predatory intensity. "I thought you’d be halfway across the world by now, Elara. Or at the bottom of the ocean. You always were too stubborn to stay buried."

"Josh! Enough!" Julian stepped between us, his face flushed with a rare, burning anger. "What kind of way is that to speak to a guest? This is Elara. She is a mother in agony, and her son is my patient. If you have even a shred of humanity left, you’ll remember that."

Josh’s eyes flickered to his brother, a cold, mocking smirk touching his lips. "A friend? Is that what she told you, Julian? Did she tell you about the night we met? Did she tell you what she was doing in the VIP lounge of my club five years ago before she went 'missing'?"

"I’m not here for your games, Josh," I said, my voice trembling but my eyes locked on his. I reached into my purse, my fingers brushing the silver wolf cufflink I’d kept for years. "I’m here because my son is dying. His heart is failing, his marrow is giving up, and according to the hospital records, you are the only match left in the state. I don't care what happened five years ago. I don't care that I hate the very air you breathe. Save my son."

The room went deathly silent. Even the wind outside seemed to stop.

Josh stepped around the massive mahogany desk. He moved with a fluid, lethal grace that reminded me of a wolf stalking a wounded deer. He stopped inches from me, so close I could see the flecks of gold in his dark, terrifying eyes.

"You want my blood to save your son?" he whispered, leaning down. His voice was so low only I could hear it. "The boy you’ve been hiding in a rent-controlled apartment for four years? The boy who looks exactly like Julian used to look when he was a child?"

My heart stopped. The room felt like it was spinning. He knew. He had been watching me, just like a predator watches its prey from the shadows.

"Does he have your eyes, Elara? Or does he have the De Luca temper?"

"He has nothing of yours," I hissed, tears of pure, hot frustration pricking my eyes. "He is mine. And I will do anything to keep him alive."

"Anything?" Josh asked, his hand coming up to trace the line of my throat. His touch was cold, possessive. "Fine. I’ll go to the hospital. I’ll give the blood. I’ll give the marrow. I’ll let Julian play God and save the brat. But in exchange, you don't leave this estate. Julian can take the samples back to the clinic. You stay here. With me. In the room I’ve had prepared for you since the day you ran."

"Josh, you can't be serious!" Julian shouted, grabbing his brother's shoulder. "She is a mother! She belongs at that bedside!"

"She belongs exactly where I put her," Josh snapped, his voice booming like thunder, shaking the glass walls of the office.

Suddenly, the intercom on his desk buzzed with a frantic, static-filled tone. “Sir! Breach at the front gate! It’s Silas Vane! He’s smashed through the security barrier in an armored SUV. He’s demanding to see Dr. Julian... and sir, he’s not alone. He has Myra Bliss with him.”

Josh’s head snapped toward the security monitors. A grim, lethal smile spread across his face—the look of a man who had been waiting for a war his entire life.

"Silas Vane," Josh whispered, almost affectionately. "The Billionaire has finally lost his composure. It seems he’s found something he’s actually afraid to lose."

He looked at me, then at Julian, his expression hardening. "Julian, take the medical kit. Get the blood you need from me right now and get out of here through the service tunnel. Save the boy. I have a debt to settle with a Vane, and it’s going to get bloody."

He grabbed my arm, his grip like a vice. He didn't lead me toward the exit. He pulled me toward the grand balcony that overlooked the driveway.

"Look down there, Elara," he commanded, forcing me to look at the headlights cutting through the rain. "That woman in the car? That’s Myra Bliss. She thinks she’s a journalist. She thinks she’s Silas’s fiancée. But she’s just like you—a beautiful girl caught in a war between two families who never learned how to forgive."

Below us, the SUV screeched to a halt. The door flung open, and Silas Vane stepped out, looking like a dark god of vengeance. He reached back into the car and pulled a woman out—a woman in a torn silk dress, her eyes wide with the same terror I felt every time I closed my eyes.

Our eyes met for a split second—mine from the balcony, hers from the gravel driveway. In that moment, the two halves of a broken story finally clicked together.

"Welcome home, Myra!" Josh shouted over the balcony, his voice mocking. "I see you brought the Billionaire to pay your ransom!"

Josh turned to me, his face inches from mine. "Don't scream, Elara. It’ll only make Silas nervous. And a nervous Silas tends to pull triggers."