LOGINJUSTINA
I slipped out of the ward, desperate for a sliver of solitude, a place to gather my scattered thoughts. My legs felt unsteady as I questioned if I could really go through with this. Gregor Vallis had already cast a long, dark shadow over my late sister's life and mine. The idea of needing that monster's help again was unbearable, yet when I glanced back at the door, I knew I was trapped. Time was slipping away, and only Mr. Vallis stood between Adonis and the unthinkable. The blood bank would be empty until tomorrow, but Vallis Enterprises loomed just around the corner, as if fate itself was mocking me. With a heavy heart, I scrolled for his contact—not his personal number, which he’d surely changed a dozen times, but the cold, impersonal 'contact us' line. Maybe it would reach a secretary, maybe someone who could actually help. I drew in a shaky breath and pressed call.
"Hello, this is Vallis Enterprises. What can I do for you?" a feminine voice began.
Silence tangled my tongue as I fumbled for words, my mind spinning in circles. Only when the woman repeated herself did I jolt back to the present.
"Yeah. I'd like to speak to your boss. Mr. Gregor."
"I'm so sorry. Mr. Vallis is presently in a meeting, but you can tell me whatever you have in mind."
Another uneasy silence pressed in. Could I really confess that Gregor Vallis’s miracle child was fighting for his life in a hospital bed? I was likely just another desperate voice lost in the crowd, destined to be ignored. But I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t lie, so I clung to my story.
"It's a private issue. Could you just tell him it's a message from Justina?"
Gregor Vallis’s reputation as a womanizer might be enough to catch his attention. Still, the woman’s response caught me completely off guard.
"I'll relay it to him."
Relay it to him? I remembered my days at the diner, where every complaint was met with a promise to 'pass it along to the manager.' It was always an empty gesture.
"Wait!" I blurted, hope slipping through my fingers. If this failed, I’d have to choke down my pride and hunt down Gregor Vallis myself—a thought that filled me with dread, but seemed inevitable.
"Yes?" the woman's voice came back.
"Tell him his son is dying, and I need his help," I said, bursting into tears.
I swear I heard her chuckle.
"A son? I assure you, Mr. Gregor has no such thing."
"Hear me out. He does. Please, just listen."
"If you're so sure, miss, I suggest you reach out to him personally," she said. There was mockery in her tone.
"Please. Gregor doesn't know his son exists. I just need his help. If you cared about someone, you'd understand. Just let me speak to him."
"I wish I could help you."
"You can, and it won't cost you anything. Just let me speak to him. Please."
I caught her sigh, a muttered jab about me being an emotional fool, before she returned to the call.
"Okay. You might regret this anyway."
Trust me, I knew all too well. Minutes dragged by in suffocating silence, and just as I surrendered to despair, a deep, unmistakable voice shattered the stillness.
"Hello?"
He answered. He actually answered. A surge of adrenaline shot through me. I was caught between my contempt for this man and the unexpected relief that his assistant had come through. It felt unreal, almost miraculous.
"Hello..." Several emotions flashed through my mind, fueling my anxiety, making me stutter.
"Sorry... who is this?" he asked, his voice leveled with an authority and pride I detested. It sent a chill through me.
"It doesn't matter. Just come. He needs you."
The words tasted bitter as I spoke them. I wished I could take them back, but pride was a luxury I couldn’t afford when Adonis’s life hung in the balance.
"I'm sorry, who needs me?"
"Adonis. Your son," I said.
He gave a hollow laugh, one that implied boredom, then spoke, his voice grim and bleak, as if he'd said the same words a million times and was tired of repeating them. "Sorry, miss. You've got the wrong person. I use condoms, and there is no way I'd have a son I didn't know existed."
His words cut deep. It ached to think that the gentle boy lying unconscious beyond those doors had a father like Gregor Vallis. For anyone else, I might have given up, but for Adonis, I would not stop. I would do anything to save him.
"I beg you, Gregor Vallis, Adonis needs your blood. He might die soon, and I know you don't believe anything I'm saying, but you have to. Gregor, you have a son dying right now at Petrina Memorial, and the only thing that could save him is your blood. Don't let him die..."
I waited, clinging to the hope of another miracle, desperate for anything to ease the knot tightening in my throat. Even without faith, hope was all I had left.
"Petrina Memorial? Isn't that an awfully convenient place to be right now?"
Of course. He was going to let me down, just as he had let Laura down. My fist tightened, ready to hang up, when his voice stopped me.
"I hope you aren't lying, though. Wouldn't be fun, suing another woman."
Had he actually relented? It barely made sense. He was a terrible person. Why would he suddenly decide to help now?
"I'll be waiting," I managed, my voice barely more than a whisper of disbelief. I drifted back to Adonis’s door, unable to promise anyone he’d be safe, not when I doubted it myself. I paced the children’s ward, doubts ricocheting through my mind. What if Gregor Vallis was just toying with me? He’d wanted Adonis gone before he was even born, and from the way he sounded, I doubted he cared now. I was a fool, clinging to hope for someone who didn’t deserve it.
My phone chimed, drawing me back. An unfamiliar number lit up the screen. I picked up.
"I'm at the children's ward. Where exactly are you?"
I pulled the phone away, not out of surprise, but because his voice carried easily down the corridor. Through the flickering lights, I spotted his unmistakable silhouette—tall, dark, and suited—speaking into his phone with that deep, commanding tone. I pressed the phone back to my ear.
"Ward eighteen," I said.
My words must have echoed, because his dark eyes scanned the hallway and locked onto mine.
JUSTINA"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice rough, almost angry. "Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you don't—" He looked up at me then, his eyes dark and wild and utterly focused. "If you don't, I'm going to fuck you until you forget your own name. Until you forget that boy’s name. Until the only thing you can remember is mine."Liam. He was still thinking about Liam, this possessive bastard. I should have been annoyed. I should have pushed him away for his arrogance. Instead, I felt a throb of heat between my legs so intense it made me dizzy.What about this made it hot?"Show me," I whispered, arching against him. "Make me forget."That was all the permission he needed.He stripped the dress off me in one swift movement, leaving me in nothing but my underwear—black lace, thankfully, not the practical cotton I usually wore, though I couldn't remember why I'd chosen it that morning. His gaze raked over me, hungry and unapologetic, taking in every inch of exposed skin with a rever
JUSTINA"He looks super happy in this one," I said, studying the photograph. "You too. I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that.""I was seventeen, and he'd just let me drive his old Aston Martin around the estate grounds. Badly, I should add. I put a dent in the fountain.""You didn't.""I did." Gregor's mouth curved, something soft and unguarded moving across his face, the same look caught in the photograph itself. "He never let me forget it.""What was he like? Actually like, not just the tabloid version.""Loud." He said it like the word still surprised him a little. "You wouldn't guess that, looking at how quiet this house is now, but he filled a room the second he walked into it. He'd sing in the shower, badly, at volumes that woke the whole house. He used to sneak me espresso when I was far too young for it because my mother had banned it, and then act shocked when I couldn't sleep.""Sounds like he was fun.""He was." Something flickered behind his eyes, there and gone
JUSTINAGregor produced an umbrella from somewhere behind his seat, snapping it open with the confidence of a man who'd never once had it fail him, and the wind promptly turned it inside out the second we cleared the car. He swore, wrestling with the useless spokes while rain came down in sheets that soaked through my dress in the time it took to cross the gravel, and by the time we reached the door, I'd given up caring about the hair the stylist had spent an hour pinning into place.Nyssa stood in the doorway already, backlit and dry, her robe pulled tightly around her as the wind tore past her and into the foyer.“Thank God.” She stepped back, wrestling the door against the storm’s pull.Then she turned to Gregor. “This weather is terrifying. I was watching the coverage and thinking the worst. I’m so relieved you’re back safe.”Ruthless and cold as ever. I didn’t miss the fact that her relief, apparently, extended only to him.“Where’s Adonis?” I asked, cutting straight through whate
GREGORJustina leaned across the center console, her cheek almost pressed against my shoulder as she peered at the back seat. "It's open. You're right. It's definitely open."I pulled the car over to the shoulder, the tires crunching on gravel. I put it in park and turned to face her, letting my expression shift from concern to realization. "Someone broke in. While we were eating. They must have been looking for something valuable, reached in, popped the glove box, and stole the phones."Her face went pale in the dashboard light. "The valet. It had to be the valet. He had the keys. He knew where we were sitting. He could have..." She was reaching for the door handle, her fingers scrabbling at the latch. "We need to go back. We need to find him. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to sue him. I'm going to..."I caught her wrist, stopping her. "Justina. Stop.""Let go of me. We need to go back.""And do what? Accuse a kid of theft without proof? Get into a screaming match in the parking lo
GREGORI kept my hand at the small of her back, my palm burning against the silk, and let my eyes find Liam's table as we approached the exit. He looked up when we passed, his fork hovering in midair.Justina lifted her hand in a small wave, her fingers fluttering once, then twice before she dropped it. I watched Liam's face break into an easy grin, one that had probably worked on her seven years ago, and he answered with a slight nod.I did not break stride. I kept my arm around her and guided her forward, but when she turned her head to say something to me, I glanced back over my shoulder. Liam was still watching. I held his gaze for three full seconds, long enough to tell him I saw him, long enough to tell him he was welcome to think whatever he wanted as long as he never acted on it.His smile faltered. Something harder moved behind his eyes, and he still did not look away.I turned back to the exit and pressed my hand more firmly into her spine to further send my message. Justina
GREGORI swirled the last of the wine in my glass and watched the legs slide down the crystal in slow, red tears. The octopus had vanished from my plate, leaving a smear of charred oil and lemon. Across the table, Justina pushed a final bite of lamb around with the tines of her fork, her movements loose and unhurried. The champagne and a little bit of red wine had softened the sharp line of her shoulders, and her eyes held that glassy brightness that meant she was three drinks past careful and not yet sloppy.The strap of her blue dress had slipped down her arm, and she had not bothered to fix it. I had noticed. Every man in the room with working eyes had probably noticed, and like the gentleman that I was, I reached out to fix it."You keep looking over there," Justina said. Her voice had that lilt one could only get when the wine had warmed their throat. She did not lift her gaze from her plate. "Like you're trying to set someone on fire with your mind."I set my glass down harder t







