Chapter 2 - The debt of blood
The silence in the cramped apartment was absolute. Adeline spun around, her purple maid uniform swishing as she saw the master of the estate standing in her broken doorway. The color drained completely from her fair, rosy face. She instinctively stepped backward, shielding her frail younger brother behind her.
Elias stepped into the room. He seemed too large for the fragile apartment, his deeply masculine presence consuming all the oxygen.
“What did you say?” Elias asked, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that held ten years of buried ghosts.
“Mr. Baron, please,” Adeline pleaded, her voice shaking as she raised her hands. “I’m sorry I took the bread. I’ll work double shifts. I’ll pay for it. Please don’t hurt him.”
Elias didn't look at the bread. His piercing dark eyes remained locked on the seventeen-year-old boy sitting on the bed.
“Your father,” Elias commanded softly, ignoring Adeline’s panic. “What was his name?”
“Thomas Hayes,” Noah answered, his voice weak but his chin held high. “He drove a delivery truck. Ten years ago, he saw a car pushed off the harbor bridge. He jumped in and pulled the driver out. The driver lived. My dad didn't.”
Elias’s chest stopped moving. He remembered the freezing water. He remembered the sinking car, the suffocating darkness, and the strong hands that had shattered the window to drag him to the surface. For ten years, Elias’s syndicate mentors had told him the brave stranger who drowned saving him was a drifter with no family, no ties, and no children.
It was a lie. They had lied to keep Elias focused, ruthless, and unburdened by guilt. And for ten years, the children of the man who gave him his life had been starving in the slums, with the daughter scrubbing his floors in a purple uniform just to survive.
“Pack your things,” Elias ordered, his voice suddenly sharp and cold.
Adeline gasped, tears welling in her eyes. “No! Where are you taking us? If you’re going to punish someone, punish me! Noah didn't do anything!”
May you like
Elias looked at her beautiful, exhausted face. He saw the fierce, quiet protection she offered her brother, and a strange, heavy ache settled in his chest. He reached out, his tattooed hand gently pushing her trembling arm down.
“I am not punishing you, Adeline,” Elias said, his frighteningly calm demeanor returning, though his eyes burned with an intense, protective fire. “You are never sleeping in this room again. Both of you are coming home with me.”
