Chapter 2: The Light After the Dark
The cold wind howling through the narrow, forgotten alley seemed to die the moment Nathan lifted his sister from the filthy mattress. Emily was alarmingly light, her bones fragile beneath the thin, tattered fabric of her dress. She protested weakly, insisting she could walk, but the violent coughing fit that followed proved otherwise.
“Quiet now,” Nathan murmured, his voice thick with repressed rage and overwhelming sorrow. “You’ve walked far enough, Emily. Let me carry you the rest of the way.”
Lucy stood by the doorway, her small hands gripping the oversized sleeves of Nathan’s expensive navy coat. She looked like a tiny, frightened ghost drowning in a sea of dark wool. Behind her, the four younger children huddled together, their eyes wide and completely terrified. They had never seen a man like Nathan—someone who smelled of expensive cologne and possessed a voice that commanded the very shadows to part.
“Uncle Nathan?” Lucy’s voice trembled. She tested the word ‘uncle’ as if it were made of fragile glass, afraid it might shatter if spoken too loudly. “Are the police going to come? Mama said the police always come when we make too much noise.”
Nathan paused, turning his head to look at the little girl who had sacrificed her own survival for her family. He forced a gentle, reassuring smile through the tears still stinging his eyes. “No, sweetheart. No police. Only a doctor for your mama, and real beds for all of you. I promise.”
He led them out of the slum. The walk to the main road felt like crossing into a different dimension. As they emerged from the darkness under the flickering yellow light of the streetlamp, Nathan’s black SUV was waiting, its engine purring softly. His driver, Marcus, a broad-shouldered man who had served Nathan for years, stepped out. Marcus’s stoic expression instantly broke into utter shock as he took in the sight of the frail woman in his boss’s arms and the ragged children trailing behind him like lost ducklings.
“Open the doors, Marcus. Turn the heat all the way up. Call Dr. Aris at the private wing of St. Jude’s Hospital. Tell him I’m bringing in a critical patient,” Nathan ordered, his tone leaving absolutely no room for questions.
“Right away, Mr. Vance,” Marcus replied, scrambling to open the heavy doors.
The children hesitated at the edge of the leather seats. They looked down at their dirt-caked shoes and grimy hands. One of the little boys, barely five years old, started to cry softly. “We’re too dirty,” he whimpered. “We’ll ruin it.”
Nathan’s heart shattered all over again. He gently placed Emily onto the expansive back seat and knelt on the damp pavement, ignoring the ruin of his tailored trousers. He looked the boy in the eye. “This car is just a machine. It can be cleaned. You are my family, and you are worth more than everything I own. Get in. All of you.”
The ride to the hospital was a blur of flashing streetlights and tense silence, punctuated only by Emily’s shallow, rattling breaths. Lucy sat next to her mother, her small, dirty hand clinging tightly to Emily’s pale fingers. Nathan sat in the jump seat, watching them, his mind racing with a lethal cocktail of guilt and vengeance.
Victoria.
The name tasted like ash in his mouth. His stepmother. The woman who had stood beside him at Emily’s fake funeral, weeping crocodile tears behind a black veil. She had handed him the forged death certificate, claiming Emily had died of an overdose in a seedy motel across the country. And he, blinded by grief and a misplaced trust, had believed her. He had believed the lies while his sister rotted in an alley not two miles from his penthouse.
They arrived at St. Jude’s Hospital to a swarm of nurses and doctors. Emily was immediately placed on a gurney and whisked away through double doors, an oxygen mask quickly fitted over her hollow face. Lucy tried to run after her, screaming, but Nathan caught her gently, pulling her against his chest.
“They are going to help her, Lucy. They are the best doctors in the city,” he soothed, stroking her tangled hair.
For the next four hours, Nathan sat in the private waiting room with his nieces and nephews. He ordered a mountain of food—pancakes, scrambled eggs, warm milk, roast chicken, anything the hospital cafeteria and nearby late-night restaurants could provide. He watched, tears pricking his eyes again, as the children ate. They didn’t gorge themselves; they ate slowly, suspiciously, as if expecting the food to be snatched away. Lucy, still wearing his coat, meticulously divided her portion, making sure the younger ones had enough before taking a single bite herself.
“You don’t have to do that anymore, Lucy,” Nathan said softly, sliding a fresh plate of warm pastries toward her. “There is enough. There will always be enough from now on.”
Before Lucy could answer, Dr. Aris stepped into the room. His face was grave, the deep lines around his mouth drawn tight. Nathan stood up, his blood turning to ice.
“How is she?” Nathan demanded, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register.
“She’s severely malnourished, fighting double pneumonia, and her heart is incredibly weak from prolonged starvation and stress,” Dr. Aris said quietly, glancing at the children. He gestured for Nathan to step into the hallway.
Once the door clicked shut, the doctor sighed. “Nathan, it’s a miracle she’s still breathing. If you had found her even two days later… she wouldn’t have made it. We have her on IV antibiotics and fluids, but the next forty-eight hours are critical. She is fighting, but her body has almost nothing left to fight with.”
Nathan leaned against the cool wall, closing his eyes as a wave of nausea hit him. “Do whatever it takes, Aris. Cost is no object. Keep her alive.”
“We will,” the doctor promised.
As Nathan turned back toward the waiting room, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. The caller ID made his blood boil.
Victoria.
He stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the accept button. He knew he had to play the game until he had all the evidence. He took a deep breath, smoothing his expression into a mask of cold indifference, and answered.
“Nathan, darling,” Victoria’s sickly-sweet voice echoed through the speaker. “Where are you? You missed the board meeting regarding the merger. You know we need your signature to finalize the sale of the restaurant chain.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened so hard his teeth ached. She was trying to sell their father’s legacy, the very legacy that belonged to Emily.
“I had a personal emergency, Victoria,” Nathan said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “I’m at the hospital.”
There was a slight pause on the other end. A sharp, calculating silence. “The hospital? Are you ill, dear?”
“No,” Nathan lied smoothly. “Just a friend who needed my help. I’ll review the merger documents tomorrow.”
“Don’t take too long, Nathan. The buyers are getting anxious,” Victoria purred before hanging up.
May you like
Nathan lowered the phone. A dark, terrifying resolve settled over his features. Victoria thought she had won. She thought she had buried Emily and secured the empire. But she had made one fatal mistake.
She hadn’t made sure Emily was actually dead. And now, the true heir had returned, backed by a brother who was ready to burn the world down to protect her.
