Blood and Diamonds

Chapter 5

The quiet hum of the climate control system was entirely swallowed by the deafening roar of blood rushing through Maya’s ears.

*I expected a girl like you to have a little more blood on her hands.*

Maya stopped breathing. Her vision tunneled, locking onto the malicious, triumphant gleam in Beatrice’s perfectly lined eyes. The older woman’s grip on her fingers was no longer a greeting. It was a snare.

Before Maya could even flinch, a shadow fell over them.

Julian didn’t step between them. He collided with the space they occupied. His hand clamped down on Beatrice’s wrist with a sickening, audible *crack* of bone grinding against bone.

Beatrice gasped, her meticulously curated smile fracturing into a grimace of genuine pain as Julian violently tore her hands away from Maya.

"Get out," Julian commanded. His voice wasn’t a shout. It was a hollow, terrifying rasp that carried the weight of an executioner's gavel.

He shoved his stepmother backward. Beatrice stumbled, the heel of her designer pump catching on the edge of the Persian rug. She barely caught her balance against the mahogany dining table, her chest heaving as she massaged her bruised wrist.

"Such violent tendencies," Beatrice hissed, her composure rapidly knitting back together into a mask of spite. "You always were an animal playing dress-up in your grandfather's suits. Do you really think this little charity case is going to save your inheritance?"

Julian stepped directly in front of Maya, completely eclipsing her from the older woman's sight. His broad shoulders were rigid. Every muscle in his back coiled tighter than a steel spring.

"Cross!" Julian barked.

The heavy dining doors slammed open. Three men in tactical black suits flooded the room, their hands resting menacingly on the weapons holstered at their waists. Cross, a man with a scarred jaw and completely dead eyes, took the lead.

"Escort Beatrice off my property," Julian said, his gaze fixed straight ahead. "If she speaks on the way out, gag her. If she resists, break her legs."

Beatrice’s jaw tightened. She shot one last, venomous look around Julian’s formidable frame, her eyes briefly locking with Maya’s.

"Enjoy the honeymoon, darling," Beatrice sneered. "Let's hope it lasts longer than your father did."

The security team closed in. Cross grabbed Beatrice by the elbow of her crimson coat, hauling her out of the room with zero regard for her expensive wardrobe. The heavy doors clicked shut behind them, sealing the silence back into the dining room.

Maya stood completely frozen. Her hands were shaking so violently she had to press them against her thighs to stop the tremors. The diamond ring on her left hand felt like a lead weight dragging her straight into a nightmare.

Julian slowly turned around.

The lethal, terrifying monster who had just threatened to break a woman’s legs vanished the second his eyes met hers. He looked at Maya’s trembling hands, his chest rising and falling in sharp, irregular bursts. He wanted to reach out. He wanted to pull her against him and swear on his own life that no one would ever touch her again.

He shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets to stop himself.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, forcing his tone back into a flat, corporate chill.

Maya shook her head sharply. She took a step back, putting distance between them. "How did she get in here? You told me this place was a fortress."

"A lapse in protocol. It has already been corrected."

"A lapse?" Maya let out a harsh, breathless laugh. "Julian, she practically admitted to running a background check on my trauma. She knew about the alley. She knew about the blood. How could she possibly know that unless you put it in a file somewhere?"

Panic, hot and jagged, sliced through Julian’s chest. She was too smart. He had always known that about her, but right now, her intelligence was a liability. He had to lie. If she dug too deep, she would find out he was the bleeding man in the shipping container. She would realize this entire marriage was a cage he built just to keep her.

"She is trying to get in your head, Maya," Julian said smoothly, stepping closer. He used his height to assert control, banking on his intimidating presence to shut the conversation down. "Beatrice knows you grew up in the south end. She knows crime rates are high. She threw out a generic insult to rattle you, and you are letting it work."

Maya stared up at him. His gray eyes were unreadable pools of ice. He lied beautifully.

"You're suffocating me," Maya whispered, rubbing her arms. "I'm supposed to be a ghost, remember? But I'm trapped in this house, wearing a rock that costs more than a hospital wing, while your family threatens me over breakfast. I am going to my apartment to get my mother's necklace. I need out of this house."

"No."

The word cracked like a whip.

Julian’s jaw tightened. "You will not leave the perimeter of this estate. Beatrice is desperate. Desperate people make lethal mistakes. You stay here. That is not a request; it is a condition of your sister's medical funding."

Maya gasped, feeling as though he had physically struck her. The reminder of his leverage was a bucket of ice water over her rising defiance. He wasn't her protector. He was her warden.

"Understood," she said, her voice dropping into a dead, emotionless monotone. "Have a good day at work, Mr. Sterling."

She spun on her heel and walked out of the room, leaving her coffee untouched.

Julian watched her go, the urge to punch his fist straight through the mahogany table nearly overwhelming him. He had protected her, but he had pushed her further away in the process. Taking a deep, ragged breath, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Cross," Julian said into the receiver, his voice dropping into a murderous register. "Strip Beatrice of her security clearance at the tower. Then, freeze every bank account tied to her maiden name. I want her completely ruined by lunchtime."

By three in the afternoon, the silence of the estate was driving Maya out of her mind.

She had paced the length of the massive library at least a hundred times. Julian had left hours ago, taking his terrifying aura with him, but the house still felt like a cage.

She stopped by the massive arched window, looking out over the sprawling, manicured lawn. Heavy rain had started to fall again, blurring the treeline where armed guards quietly patrolled the perimeter.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

Maya turned as a young maid in a pristine gray uniform stepped hesitantly into the library. She carried a small silver tray.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Sterling," the maid murmured, keeping her eyes respectfully lowered. "This was just delivered to the front gate. The courier said it was highly urgent. Addressed directly to you."

Maya frowned. No one knew she was here. Not even her former landlord.

She walked over and picked up the item resting on the tray. It was a small, unmarked wooden box. It felt surprisingly heavy.

"Thank you," Maya said quietly.

The maid bowed slightly and slipped out, pulling the heavy oak doors shut.

Maya stared at the wooden lid. A strange sense of dread pooled in the pit of her stomach. Her fingers hovered over the brass latch. Taking a steadying breath, she flicked the lock and pushed the lid open.

Her heart completely stopped.

Resting on a bed of crushed black velvet was Silas’s switchblade. The exact same knife the debt collector had used to threaten her yesterday morning.

But it wasn't clean. The handle and the blade were entirely coated in thick, dried, rust-colored blood.

Tucked beneath the bloodied weapon was a small, folded piece of thick cardstock. Maya’s hands shook violently as she reached past the knife to pull the paper free. She unfolded it, her eyes scanning the elegant, handwritten script.

*Your new husband didn't pay your debt, little bird. He butchered them all. Ask Julian what else he is hiding in the dark.*