006. Sylvester Brian

RAINA

I barely slept that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined what would happen tomorrow.

What Sylvester would say. What he would tell me to do.

Could I even do it?

That last thought scared me more than anything.

By morning, I was exhausted and jittery with nerves.

Castor left for his office at eight thirty, just like always. He didn't even look at me as he walked past.

Good.

I waited twenty minutes to make sure he was really gone. Then I got dressed quickly.

I covered the fading bruises on my face with makeup. Not perfect, but better than yesterday.

I told Maria I had a doctor's appointment and left in a hurry.

The drive downtown felt like it took forever. My hands were sweating on the steering wheel.

The Brian Tower was massive. All glass and steel, reaching up into the sky.

I found the private entrance on the east side, just like he said. There was a security guard there. When I gave my name, he nodded and pointed me to a private elevator.

"Tenth floor, ma'am. Mr. Brian is expecting you."

The elevator was all mirrors. I watched myself rise higher and higher, my reflection getting smaller. I looked pale and frightened. Like a woman walking into the unknown.

I had no idea what to expect from Sylvester Brian. He was my husband's enemy. The man Castor hated most in the world.

But one thing I knew was, we had something in common. Our mutual hatred of Castor.

As the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

When the doors opened, I stepped into a quiet hallway.

There was only one door. A large wooden door with gold letters: SYLVESTER BRIAN, PRIVATE OFFICE.

I knocked before I could lose my nerve.

"Come in," his voice called.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

The office was huge. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city. Expensive furniture. Bookshelves filled with law books.

And Sylvester, sitting behind his desk, looking at me.

He was wearing a dark suit that fit him perfectly. His hair was styled. His gray eyes were intense.

He looked powerful.

Dangerous.

"Lock the door," he said quietly.

My hand shook as I turned the lock.

Click.

The sound felt final. Like I had just crossed a line I could never uncross.

"Come here," he said.

I walked toward him on unsteady legs.

When I got close enough, he stood and came around the desk. He stopped just in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne. Clean and masculine. Nothing like the sickly sweet scent Castor wore.

His eyes moved over my face, studying the bruises I had tried to hide.

"He hit you," he said. His voice was calm, but I could hear the anger underneath.

"Yes."

"Where else?"

"What?"

"Where else did he hurt you?" His hand reached out slowly, like he was afraid I might run. His fingers brushed my wrist so gently I barely felt it. "Here?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

His jaw clenched. "Anywhere else?"

"My ribs. When the guards dragged me."

Something dark flashed in his eyes. Something that made my pulse race.

"Show me," he said quietly.

"Sylvester, I don't think..."

"I need to see what he did to you." His voice was soft but firm.

With shaking hands, I lifted the side of my top.

The bruises were dark purple now, finger marks clearly visible on my pale skin.

I watched his face as he looked at them. Watched his expression shift from controlled anger to something darker. More dangerous.

"I'm going to destroy him," he said, so quietly I almost didn't hear. "I'm going to take everything from him."

His hand moved toward my ribs, then stopped. Hovering just above my skin. Close enough that I could feel the heat from his palm.

"May I?" he asked.

I nodded.

His fingers touched the bruises so gently it made my chest ache. He traced the outline of each finger mark, his touch clinical at first. Professional.

But then his hand stilled. Flattened against my ribs. I could feel my heart pounding against his palm.

Our eyes met.

The air between us changed. Charged with something electric and dangerous.

He was standing so close. Close enough that I could see the flecks of silver in his gray eyes. Close enough that I could count his heartbeats in the pulse at his throat.

"Raina," he said, my name coming out rough. Strained.

"Yes?"

He didn't continue. Just stared at me like he was fighting some internal battle.

Then, slowly, he pulled his hand away. Stepped back. Put distance between us.

I let my top fall back into place, my skin still tingling where he had touched me.

"I need you to do something for me," he said. His voice was steadier now, but I could hear the tension underneath. "Something difficult."

"What?"

"I need you to go back to that house." He walked to the window, putting even more distance between us. Like he didn't trust himself to stand close. "You have to keep playing your part. The perfect wife. The grateful companion. We'll turn the tables on him and use his own weapon against him."

My stomach dropped. "You want me to stay with him?"

"For now. Yes." He turned to face me. "We need hard evidence, Raina. Concrete proof of what he's doing. Things that will hold up in court and destroy him completely."

"I can't." My voice broke. "I can't go back there and pretend. Not after last night."

"You can." He crossed the room to me in three long strides. Stopped just short of touching me. "You're stronger than you know."

"I'm not. I'm weak. I'm scared."

"Being scared doesn't make you weak." His hand lifted, hovering near my face like he wanted to touch me but wouldn't let himself. "It makes you smart. But you're also brave. You called me. You came here. You're already fighting back."

"But how long? How long do I have to stay?"

"I don't know yet. A few weeks. Maybe a month."

"He'll have more of those horrible parties." Tears burned my eyes. "How can I watch that and do nothing?"

"You won't be doing nothing. You'll be gathering the evidence we need to stop him. To save yourself and every other victim he's hurt."

I wanted to believe him. Wanted to be that brave.

But all I could think about was going back to that cold house. Sleeping in that guest room. Watching Teddy touch my husband while I played the perfect wife.

"I don't know if I can do it," I whispered.

Sylvester's hand finally made contact. His fingers caught my chin, tilting my face up to meet his eyes.

"You can," he said with absolute certainty. "Do you know why?"

I shook my head.

"Because Castor underestimates you. He thinks you're weak. Helpless. A victim who will do whatever he says out of fear."

"Maybe he's right."

"He's not." His thumb brushed across my jaw. "That's your weapon, Raina. He doesn't see you as a threat. That means he'll get careless. Make mistakes. And when he does, you'll be there to document every single one."

The way he was looking at me made my breath catch. Like he saw something in me I couldn't see in myself.

"What if I make a mistake? What if he catches me?"

"Then you call me immediately. I'll come get you." His voice dropped lower. "I won't let him hurt you again. I promise."

"You can't promise that."

"Watch me."

We stood there, frozen. His hand still on my face. My heart racing so fast I thought he must be able to feel it.

His eyes dropped to my mouth. Lingered there.

I stopped breathing.

He leaned closer. So close I could feel his breath on my lips.

Then he stopped. His jaw clenched. His hand fell away from my face.

He stepped back quickly. Ran a hand through his hair. "You should go. Before he gets suspicious."

"Right." I felt dizzy. Off balance. "Yes."

But neither of us moved.

"Raina." He said my name like he wanted to say more.

"What?"

He looked at me for a long moment. Then shook his head.

"Nothing. Just... be careful."

I nodded and turned toward the door. My legs felt weak. My whole body was trembling.

I had almost reached the door when my phone buzzed in my purse.

I pulled it out with shaky hands.

A text from Castor: Where are you?

I quickly replied: In the hospital.

My phone buzzed again almost immediately.

Castor: Liar. I'm in the doctor's office and can't find you anywhere.

My stomach dropped to the floor.

How did he know?

Castor: Tell me the truth. Where the fuck are you? Don't make me come after you!!!

My blood ran cold.