Chapter 2

Jace Rivera adjusted the black apron over his wrinkled dress shirt, hands trembling slightly as he buttoned the collar. His shift at the Grand Halcyon Hotel had started ten minutes ago, and he already felt like he was on the verge of breaking.

The kind of exhaustion that doesn’t just sit in your bones—it eats at your soul.

Noah’s hospital bracelet was still looped around Jace’s wrist like a secret talisman, hidden under the cuff. His little brother needed a transplant. The doctors had called again that morning—still no donor. Still no money. Still no hope.

He’d pulled a double shift at the bar downstairs. Then he got called to fill in upstairs—for a billionaire’s private event.

Because fate had a sense of humor.

Jace stepped out of the staff elevator onto the top floor and into another world. The air smelled like wealth. Gold-trimmed furniture, crystal chandeliers, people dressed like fashion runways had thrown up on them.

And there, surrounded by men in tuxedos and women with hollow laughs, stood Elias Crane.

The name sent ice through Jace’s veins.

Tall. Impossibly sharp suit. Dark hair, brushed back like he was carved from control. The eyes though—cold and unreadable—those eyes stopped him for a second.

The son of the man who destroyed his family.

Jace inhaled slowly, swallowed the ache in his throat, and lifted the silver tray with practiced ease. Glasses clinked softly as he stepped into the crowd.

“Champagne?” he murmured, moving from guest to guest, eyes flicking back to Elias again and again.

He was untouchable.

Jace wasn’t here for a scene. He wasn’t here for revenge—not yet. He just needed to see him. To be sure. And maybe… maybe catch his attention.

As he turned toward Elias, a woman’s elbow caught his side. He stumbled.

A full flute of champagne slid from his tray.

It was like slow motion—the golden liquid splashing across Elias Crane’s chest, dripping down his perfectly tailored suit.

The music stopped. A hush fell.

Jace’s stomach twisted into knots.

“Oh God—I’m—I’m so sorry,” he stammered, grabbing a cloth from his pocket and stepping forward instinctively.

Elias’s hand came up, halting him mid-step.

“Don’t,” he said, voice low and cold. “Touch me, and you’re done.”

Jace froze.

Elias looked down at his suit, then back up. His expression didn’t shift. Not anger. Not surprise. Just quiet disgust.

“Do you know how much this suit costs?” he asked, wiping the champagne from his cuff.

Jace swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to—someone pushed me—”

“I didn’t ask for excuses.” Elias turned to the nearby staff manager. “Who hired him?”

The manager paled. “He’s a last-minute replacement, Mr. Crane. Our regular—”

“Fire him.”

The words hit harder than Jace expected.

“Wait—please,” Jace said quickly. “I need this job—”

“You should’ve thought of that before throwing drinks at your betters.”

A sharp gasp came from somewhere behind them.

Jace felt heat rise in his chest—not just from embarrassment. Humiliation, yes. But under that, anger.

“You’re not better than me,” he said, not loud, but firm.

Elias tilted his head, amused now. “A bartender with attitude. Charming.”

Jace stepped forward, voice trembling, but steady. “You think money gives you the right to treat people like trash?”

“It gives me options,” Elias replied coolly. “You, I assume, don’t have many.”

Jace’s fists clenched. He wanted to punch him. Or cry. Maybe both. But instead, he exhaled, grabbed the tray, and walked out before he lost it.

—

The night air was cold as hell.

Jace sat on the bench outside St. Luke’s hospital, hoodie pulled over his head, one hand clutching a takeout bag with stale fries and a half-burnt burger. He hadn’t eaten all day.

The lights in Noah’s hospital room flickered from the window above. Still awake.

He checked his phone. 1:07 a.m.

Inside, the hallway smelled like bleach and exhaustion. He slipped into the room quietly, placing the food on the small table. Noah turned his head and smiled weakly.

“Hey,” Jace whispered, walking over. “Did the nurse bring your meds?”

Noah nodded. “Yeah. They taste like socks.”

Jace chuckled softly, but it was tight, forced. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his brother’s hand.

“You okay?” Noah asked.

Jace hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired.”

A beat passed.

“Did you get fired again?”

Jace’s eyes widened, surprised. “How’d you—?”

“You get this crease between your eyebrows when you're stressed,” Noah mumbled.

Jace covered his face and laughed quietly. “God, I’m so bad at lying.”

“You’re the worst.”

He was silent for a moment, staring at the IV line in his brother’s arm.

Then he said it.

“I saw him.”

Noah blinked. “Who?”

“Elias Crane.”

Silence stretched between them.

“You’re sure it’s him?” Noah’s voice was barely a whisper.

Jace nodded. “Yeah. He looked right through me. Like I was nothing.”

He looked down, voice lower now. “He doesn’t know what his father did. But I do. And I’m done letting them live like kings while we rot.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Jace squeezed his brother’s hand.

“I’m gonna get close to him. I’m gonna make him want me. And then I’m going to take everything he loves.”

Noah didn’t speak. Just stared at his brother.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I do,” Jace said. “You deserve a chance. And this is the only way I can buy it.”

He stood, kissed his brother’s forehead, and whispered:

“I found him. And I’m not walking away.”