TWO

JUSTINA

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.