Chapter 2 - The Shadow at the Door
The cold inside the penthouse was nonexistent, yet a shiver ran down my spine that made my teeth chatter.
Elias Vance stood motionless near the French doors overlooking the glittering lights of Manhattan. In his right hand, he held a sleek black satellite phone. His tailored dark shirt was slightly open at the collar, revealing the hard line of his collarbone, and his sleeves were still rolled up to his elbows—where my daughters’ birth fluids and dried ocean spray had been washed away only hours before.
“What do you mean he knows who rescued me?” I whispered, my fingers clutching the heavy silk blanket around my chest. “Thomas doesn’t know anyone in your world. He’s a small-time loan shark’s muscle. He works out of a meatpacking warehouse in Queens. He doesn’t even know your name!”
Elias didn’t turn around immediately. He looked out at the frozen city, his reflection in the glass dark and imposing.
“Thomas Miller owes three hundred thousand dollars to the Bratva,” Elias said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards. “Specifically, to Nikolai Volkov’s crew in Brighton Beach. Thomas thought if he threw you into the river, his debts would disappear with you. But word travels fast in this city, Ava. Especially when my convoy cuts off three blocks of the West Side Highway to pick up a dying woman and two infants.”
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. “Did... did Thomas call you?”
Elias turned slowly. His eyes were a storm of dark gray, completely devoid of warmth, except for the subtle softening at the corners when his gaze drifted toward the adjoining nursery where my newborn daughters slept.
“He didn’t call me,” Elias said. “He called Volkov. Thomas realized that if Elias Vance rescued his wife, you were worth money. He offered to sell Volkov your location—and the rights to your children—in exchange for erasing his gambling debts.”
A sickening wave of nausea washed over me. I pressed my palm over my mouth to keep from screaming.
Three days ago, I had begged Thomas on my knees not to lock me out in the snow. I had begged him while the icy wind tore through my thin nightgown, clutching my newborn twins to my bare skin, pleading with him to look at their tiny, perfect faces. He had spat on me. He had called my baby girls parasites.
And now, finding out that Elias Vance had saved us, Thomas’s first thought wasn't remorse. It wasn't relief.
It was profit.
“He’s a monster,” I rasped, tears scalding my cheeks. “He’s absolute poison, Elias. You have to let me leave. If Volkov is coming, if the Bratva is involved, you’re going to be dragged into a war because of me! I don’t have money. I don’t have power. I’m just a woman who couldn’t give him a son—”
In three swift, silent strides, Elias crossed the room.
Before I could finish my sentence, he knelt beside my bed. His broad, calloused hand reached out and gently gripped the back of my neck, pulling me forward just enough so that I was forced to look directly into his eyes. His touch was warm, firm, and entirely unyielding.
“Look at me, Ava,” Elias commanded softly.
I looked at him through a blur of hot tears.
“You are under my roof,” he said, every word dropping like a steel anchor into deep water. “You bled in my arms. Your daughters slept against my chest while their hearts were slowing down from the cold. In my world, once blood touches my skin, it becomes my blood. Thomas Miller sold his right to breath the moment he put you under that overpass.”
“Elias...”
“Volkov wants a war?” Elias let out a dark, dangerous chuckle that sent a thrill of fear and safety shooting down my spine simultaneously. “He’s about ten years too late. Knox!”
The heavy oak door of the master suite swung open instantly. Knox, a giant of a man with a scarred jaw and tactical shoulder holsters, stepped into the room, his head bowed in absolute respect.
“Boss?”
“Lock down the building,” Elias ordered, not taking his eyes off mine. “Put six men on the roof, four in the lobby, and double the guards at the private elevator. Tell Dr. Mercer to bring two pediatric nurses up here permanently. If a single person without a Vance security clearance steps within fifty feet of this floor, shoot them first and ask questions later.”
“Right away, Boss,” Knox hesitated for a fraction of a second. “And the husband?”
May you like
Elias’s grip on my neck loosened slightly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from my cheek with surprising softness.
“Bring Thomas Miller to the docks at midnight,” Elias said coldly. “I think it’s time he learned what happens to men who throw garbage into my river.”
