LOGINHe didn't just want a seat at the table. He wanted the heart of the home. The Sinclair-Wellesley name meant old money, high art, and a fragile, curated peace. Milo, the youngest and most "cherished" of the clan, was the crown jewel of that peace—a soft-spoken academic with porcelain skin and a soul made of books. He was a boy meant for quiet libraries, not the jagged edges of the corporate world. Then came Jackson Vance. A titan built of steel, gasoline, and unbridled ambition, Jax didn't ask for permission—he took.
View MoreLily's POV
"Here you go, dear." Jade said, giving me the newest pile of novels she had managed to collect for me. I just caught a glimpse of the first book's cover and my stomach had already started doing a giddy dance.
I smiled at her gratefully, taking them in my hands. "You're the best, Jade."
She waved her hand, dismissing it. Jade was like an Aunt to me. A caring Aunt. Probably my first Aunt since I had none. For real.
This library was where I mostly spent half of days in. She happened to be the librarian here. And when it came to my love for books, she knew me too well.
I was a proud bookworm, after all.
I headed for a nearby table with the books in my hands. I couldn't wait to open them up and indulge in them. It was like going into a completely new dimension, where only you and your imagination lived.
Geez, I'm thinking into this too much.
I sat down on one of the wooden chairs and was about to go through the first page when my phone rang. Frowning, I took it out from my pocket. Grandma's name was flashing on the screen.
A slight, odd feeling gnawed in my stomach.
It was odd knowing that grandma was calling me. I told her where I was going when I left the house. She actually never called me when I was at the library. Unless it was some sort of an emergency. I couldn't imagine anything bad happening.
"Grandma?" I answered.
All I heard was rushed breathing on the other end.
"Grandma? Is everything alright?" I asked, slightly panicking.
I think she wasn't listening to me and I couldn't have raised my voice either. Typical library rules.
"Oh, Lily, something...happened. We're in the Harmony Grove Hospital–" She trailed off. No way in hell my grandma liked joking around according to such stuff.
Her voice sounded strained. And for some reason, my heart had started beating wildly. However, I didn't need to be told twice. I quickly stood up, heading for the library exit.
She's in a hospital. In a hospital.
My brain was literally clouding around various scenarios. Very bad ones, may I add.
I looked around the busy street, trying to search a cab. It wasn't hard to find cabs here in my town. They were usually parked somewhere around the corners. Thankfully, the hospital grandma had mentioned wasn't far.
Somehow, I found myself in front of the familiar hospital. Paying the cab driver as fast as I could've, I practically ran inside.
A shiver went through me as I entered. I hated hospitals. I hated the stinging smell. I don't know why but it just reminded me of bad things, bad memories.
Like I was supposed to remember it.
I searched for grandma and there she was. She was sitting by a waiting bench. My grandma always had this sweet, welcoming aura around her. Since I was a child. And that made me love her more than anything.
But right now, as much as I wanted to sense it, I could only sense the tense atmosphere around her.
Things didn't look fine. And where was grandpa?
"Grandma." I rushed towards her, looking around, searching for answers. "What happened? What's wrong?"
She immediately stood up, her familiar green eyes clouding up with something I really didn't want to acknowledge. I hated that expression. It didn't mean good.
But what could've happened?
Everything had been perfectly fine this morning.
"Grandma." I urged her to tell me whatever that was wrong. Why wasn't she telling me?
"John...he fainted."
I looked at her in surprise. In clear astonishment.
Grandpa.
Grandma placed her hand on my arm in a reassuring gesture. I didn't even know why she was doing that.
"He'd be fine, right?" My voice was filled with hope. Hope that I really wasn't willing to give up right now.
I saw her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "Of course, Lily."
She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and I leaned into her. My insides felt like they were clenching and unclenching themselves. I had no idea what was going to happen now.
This day was going along so well.
We must have been sitting there for a while until a man came out of the emergency room door. The doctor.
Grandma and I stood up almost immediately.
Grandpa must be fine.
That was all I could think about.
The doctor glanced at me then at Grandma. "Is he fine?" I voiced out the question that was nagging inside me.
He looked back at me, his eyes glazing over with sympathy. "The internal bleeding in his skull had been really bad. It left him in a really critical situation. We're doing everything we can. But there's no denying the fact that he may be in the state of comatose right now."
From the corner of my eye, I saw grandma's hand flying over to her mouth. I looked at the doctor, not believing what he just said.
"But...everything was fine. He was fine in the morning." I insisted, hoping he would say that he got it all wrong.
He nodded his head politely.
"It sometimes happens to blood glucose patients. Amidst all the stress." He said, looking at Grandma.
What stress?
Why didn't I see that? Why didn't I see what he was going through? This wasn't supposed to happen.
"He could be treated. But you'll need an operation and that could cost." He added.
Cost. He meant money. I knew how much that would cost. We didn't have money. I looked at Grandma worriedly.
"Can I go see him?" Grandma asked, her voice cracking up in the end.
The doctor just nodded.
Without waiting for anything else, she turned and walked towards the door as I followed her. I opened the door and Grandma choked a sob.
Grandpa was motionless on the bed. Of course, he was in coma. It looked like I could shake him and he would wake up. But that wasn't true. The doctor was right. I stood motionless as Grandma seated herself on the nearby chair.
"Oh, John, what happened to you?" Grandma whispered.
I rubbed the wetness off my cheeks. Grandma needed reassurance right now. And I needed to be strong for her. At least, for now.
"Grandma, we can get money. Grandpa can be treated. He'll be fine." I spoke up.
She looked at me with tearstained eyes. "How are we supposed to get this much money?"
I knew she was right. But there must be a way. There's always a way.
×××××
We were back home and it was almost around night right now. I couldn't get my head away from all of it that had happened today. I wanted to let out the breath I had been holding since I heard the news about grandpa. But it was just stuck with the lump in my throat.
The doctor had suggested to take grandma home. That was the best for her right now. Grandma hadn't eaten anything. She just went to bed. I wasn't myself in a mood to eat anything either.
I was wide awake in my bed. Looking up at the ceiling.
Grandpa and grandma were the only ones I had. I didn't want to lose them. They were the most precious things in my life.
The only people I had.
I felt my eyes stinging as I blinked. I hated crying. It just made me think that I've lost all hope. I didn't want this to get even more worse. I didn't want to lose hope. I missed Grandpa and I wished I could do something to save him. To wake him up.
I closed my eyes as thousand helpless thoughts invaded my brain.
×××××
"I'm really sorry to hear that, Lily." Stella said, hugging me sideways.
I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes. Stella was my best friend. My only friend who was there with me through everything.
It was the next morning and grandma had been asleep. Instead of waking her up, I had come to Stella's house. I was in no mood staying in bed and just thinking about what else might break apart. Her house was close by and she was the only person I could think of going to right now.
"I don't know what to do." I whispered.
She looked at me sympathetically.
"Maybe I know what you could do." Evelyn said, peeking at us from above her magazine.
Evelyn was Stella's twin. She usually was out of the house, but whenever she was here, she acted as if she wasn't. Totally opposite of Stella.
I looked at Evelyn.
"I heard how there's a person. He could help you." She added, giving me a completely blank look.
Evelyn had always been the emo type. While Stella was always the cheerful one. They almost were the opposites.
This time, I looked at Stella in confusion.
"What do you mean, Eve?" Stella muttered, glancing at her sister.
"You know, Ace Morwood."
I kept on looking at her, clueless as to what she was talking about. Until Stella's eyes widened and she straightened up. "Shut up, Eve."
Evelyn just shrugged in response.
"Who's him?" I asked, clearly hating the fact that I knew nothing about this guy when they both did.
Stella passed me the exact same expression she was giving her sister few seconds ago. It really made me want to shut up.
"No one. Evelyn is just talking shit." She dismissed the topic.
"What if he could help me?" I asked.
She shook her head, letting out a chuckle. "Oh, Lily. He won't just help you, he'd do more than that."
"I'd let him do that to me anytime." I heard Evelyn mutter to herself. Stella glared at her once again.
I sighed and leaned back against Stella's bed. "Fine. Whatever that is supposed to mean." I said. "Other than that, isn't there...anything else I could do? Any job?"
That seemed like the only other choice.
"I think–" Stella started.
"Stella, your desk is a mess!" Her mom shouted from downstairs.
Stella quickly stood up. "Meet me outside the library tomorrow. Maybe I could get you one."
A slight trickle of hope rose inside me.
Maybe.
The dinner table had become a battlefield of unspoken desires and suffocating secrets. Every time Milo’s fork clattered against the fine china, the sound echoed like a gunshot in the tense silence. He could feel Jax’s gaze—heavy, hot, and unrelenting—tracing the line of his throat, the curve of his shoulder, and the way the fitted cream suit hugged his wide hips.Milo felt like he was being devoured without a single touch."To the future," Milo’s father announced, standing up and raising a crystal glass of deep red wine. The light from the chandelier caught the liquid, making it look like pooling blood. "To the union of the Vance and Sinclair-Wellesley legacies. To Jackson and Elena."The words hit Milo like a physical blow to the stomach. He felt the air leave his lungs. He looked at Elena, who sat perfectly still, her face a mask of neutral compliance. Then, he looked at Jax.Jax didn't pick up his glass. His massive hands remained flat on the table, the knuckles white. His eyes nev
The house was a flurry of activity that Milo usually found comforting, but today, it felt like a tightening noose. His mother, a woman of boundless energy and even more boundless love for her son, was in "Hostess Mode." The scent of roasting lamb and expensive wine filled the air, and the fine china—the kind that was only used for "transformative" events—had been laid out on the mahogany table."Milo, darling, please come here," his mother called from the master bedroom.Milo walked in, his shoulders hunched, feeling small in his usual oversized grey hoodie. "Yes, Mom?"His mother turned around, holding a garment bag like it contained the Holy Grail. "We are hosting the Vance family tonight. This isn't just a business dinner, Milo. It’s an introduction. A beginning. And I want you to look like the beautiful young man you are."She unzipped the bag to reveal a suit. It wasn't the boxy, charcoal suits his father wore. It was tailored, slim-fit, and made of a soft, cream-colored wool tha
The sunglasses felt like a heavy secret in the front pocket of Milo’s backpack.For the last three days, Milo had been a different person. He didn't just trudge to class; he scanned the horizon. Every time the distant roar of an engine echoed through the campus, his heart did a frantic, clumsy somersault against his ribs. He had spent hours in front of his mirror, touching the place on his waist where his hands had gripped the biker’s leather jacket. He could still feel the vibration of the Harley in his bones—a steady, powerful thrum that made him feel, for the first time, like he wasn't just a "porcelain doll" waiting to be broken."You're doing it again," Liam whispered, nudging Milo in the university cafeteria.Milo jumped, his face flushing a brilliant shade of pink that made his white skin glow. "Doing what?""The 'Daydreaming about the Mystery Knight' look. You’ve been staring at that apple for ten minutes, Milo. It’s not going to turn into a motorcycle."Milo ducked his head,
The rain in the city didn't fall; it descended like a heavy, grey curtain, turning the university campus into a watercolor painting of blurred edges and slick pavement. For Milo, the rain was a nightmare. It made his hair frizz, it made the ground slippery, and most importantly, it made his old, hand-me-down bicycle almost impossible to ride. He was pedaling furiously toward the campus gates, his legs straining. He had stayed late in the music wing, lost in the soft melodies of a piano piece he was practicing, and now he was late for his parents' anniversary dinner. Clang. The sound was sharp and final. Milo’s feet suddenly spun uselessly against the pedals. He wobbled, his heart jumping into his throat, before managing to plant his feet on the wet asphalt just before he toppled over. He looked down, his lower lip trembling. The chain had snapped, lying in a greasy, tangled heap on the ground. "Oh no," he whispered, the sound lost in the downpour. He was two miles from home, his
The week that followed was the strangest of Milo’s life. He couldn't shake the feeling that the air behind him was always just a few degrees warmer than it should be, or that the shadows in the corner of his eye were more solid than they had any right to be.He had gone back to his routine—head dow
The weight of the sunglasses in Milo’s hand was a strange comfort. They were heavy, expensive, and carried the faint scent of motor oil and something else – something clean and masculine, like distant cedar or crisp autumn air. He had retrieved his broken glasses from the grass, the lenses spiderwe
The world was a smear of grey stone and cruel laughter. Without his glasses, Milo felt untethered, floating in a sea of predatory shapes. He reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed the cold, damp grass, searching for the frames that allowed him to navigate a world that already felt too s
The university hallway felt three miles long when you were trying to be invisible.Milo clutched his bag to his chest, the heavy canvas acting as a shield against the eyes he felt boring into him. He could hear them before he saw them. Miller and his group of friends—guys who spent more time in the
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