Chapter 8: The Ghost

Oh my God. She's alive.

My blood ran completely cold. I stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the woman from the photograph.

She looked older than the picture, and crueler. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, and she wore a black designer dress that hugged her slim figure. But it was her eyes that terrified me. They were the exact same shade of gray as Lucian's, but where his were cold, hers were completely unhinged.

"The guards," I whispered, my eyes darting to the unconscious men on the floor. "What did you do to them?"

Elena waved a dismissive hand. "Just a little sedative. They'll wake up with a headache, but they'll live. I just needed some privacy with my new sister-in-law."

She took a step toward me. I instinctively stepped back, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Lucian told me you were dead," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "He said you were murdered."

Elena let out a high, cold laugh. It echoed through the massive penthouse.

"Murdered? Oh, that is rich," she spat, her eyes flashing with malice. "Did he tell you he held my hand while I was bleeding out? Did he tell you he cried at my funeral?"

I didn't answer. I was too terrified to speak.

"He faked my death, sweetheart," Elena hissed, taking another step closer. "He paid off the coroner and the police. He hid me away in Europe because I knew too much about his dirty little business deals. He ruined my life to save his own empire."

You have got to be kidding me. My mind spiraled.

Is that true? Did Lucian really do that to his own sister?

"I don't believe you," I said, though my voice shook.

"I don't care what you believe," Elena snapped. "I'm here for what is mine. And that starts with getting rid of you."

She lunged at me.

I screamed, throwing my arms up to protect my face. But before she could touch me, the heavy steel elevator doors suddenly slid open.

Lucian stepped out.

He froze. The color drained from his face as he looked at the unconscious guards, and then at the woman standing in his living room.

"Elena," he breathed, his voice barely a whisper.

"Hello, brother," Elena smiled, stopping in her tracks. "Miss me?"

Lucian's expression shifted from shock to pure, terrifying rage in a fraction of a second. He pulled a gun from his waistband, pointing it directly at her chest.

"Get away from my wife," he growled, his voice lethal.

Elena didn't even flinch. She looked at the gun, then back at Lucian, her smile widening.

"Still so dramatic, Lucian," she purred. "Are you going to shoot me? You didn't have the guts to finish the job five years ago. That's why you had to pay people to lie for you."

Lucian stepped forward, positioning himself between me and Elena.

"Seraphina, go to the bedroom. Lock the door. Now," he commanded without looking back.

"No," I whispered, grabbing the back of his suit jacket. "I'm not leaving you."

"Listen to your little wife, Lucian," Elena mocked. "She's braver than you are."

"Shut up," Lucian snarled. "I faked your death to save you, Elena. You were going to destroy the company. You were going to destroy yourself."

"I was going to be free!" Elena screamed, her cool facade finally cracking. "You locked me up in a psychiatric facility in Switzerland! You took my inheritance! You took my life!"

"You were sick!" Lucian roared. "You were out of control! I saved you!"

"You ruined me!"

Elena suddenly reached into her purse and pulled out a small silver object. It was a syringe.

"You ruined my life, Lucian," Elena cried, tears streaming down her face. "So I'm going to ruin yours. I'm going to take away the only thing you actually care about."

She lunged toward me.

Lucian fired the gun. The sound was deafening in the enclosed space.

The bullet hit the wall inches from Elena's head. The impact made her stumble, dropping the syringe. It shattered on the marble floor, a clear liquid pooling around the glass.

A sedative.

Lucian grabbed Elena by the throat, slamming her against the wall. She gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

"You will not touch her," Lucian growled, his face inches from hers. "I saved you once. I won't save you again."

Elena started to laugh. It was a broken, terrifying sound.

"You think you've won?" she choked out. "You think you can just keep her safe in this glass tower forever? I'm not the only one who wants you dead, brother. I'm just the only one who had the guts to do it in person."

She reached up, pulling a small, black remote control from her pocket.

"I wired the building," she coughed, her face turning red from his grip. "If you don't let me go, I'll blow us all to hell."

Lucian froze. His grip on her throat loosened just a fraction.

I stared at the remote in her hand. My heart stopped.

"Let her go, Lucian," I whispered, terrified. "Please."

Lucian looked back at me, his eyes meeting mine. In that split second, I saw the absolute terror in his gaze. Not for himself, but for me.

He let go of Elena. She dropped to the floor, gasping for air.

"Good boy," she rasped, standing up and straightening her dress. She held the remote up, her thumb hovering over the button. "I'm going to walk out of here. And you are not going to follow me. If I see a single security guard, I press the button."

She walked toward the door, her heels clicking on the floor. She stopped next to me, her gray eyes looking me up and down.

"You're a fool for loving him," she whispered to me. "He destroys everything he touches."

She walked out the door, closing it behind her.

Lucian collapsed to his knees, his breathing ragged. He dropped his head into his hands.

I rushed to him, falling to the floor and wrapping my arms around him.

"Are you okay?" I cried, tears spilling down my cheeks.

He looked up at me. His gray eyes were completely hollow.

"She's going to blow the building," he said, his voice broken. "We have to get out of here."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the elevator. But as we ran, the lights in the penthouse flickered.

Then, the intercom crackled. Elena's voice echoed through the apartment, her tone mocking and cruel.

"Actually, Lucian, I lied about the remote," she laughed. "But I wasn't lying about the bomb. You have five minutes to get out. Better run fast."

The line went dead.