Chapter 18 The rising sun
The clock on the wall of the Blackwood basement hadn't even reached five when the heavy blanket of sleep was pulled from me, not by an alarm, but by the flickering glow of candlelight and the sound of two deep, mismatched voices.
"Happy birthday to you... happy birthday to you..."
I blinked, rubbing my eyes as I sat up on the velvet sofa. Victor was there in his chair, a small, elegant cake resting on his lap with two flickering candles forming the number twenty-three. Beside him stood Vane, grinning broadly, clapping along to the beat. The sight was so surreal—the billionaire heir and his burly trainer singing in a dim basement at 4:30 AM—that I couldn't help but move my head along to the rhythm, a wide, sleepy smile breaking across my face.
"Happy birthday, our sunshine!" Vane shouted as the song ended, his voice echoing off the glass walls.
"Thank you, Vane! Thank you, Victor," I breathed, leaning forward to blow out the candles. The scent of vanilla and expensive sugar filled the air.
Vane was the first to reach for a gift bag hidden behind the therapy bench. It was a bright, cheerful pink bag. "I couldn't let the day go by without adding to your collection," he said, handing it to me. Inside was a stunning pink dress with intricate purple floral designs stitched into the hem. It was perfectly me.
"Oh, it’s beautiful! Thank you, Vane!"
"I knew you’d love it, Mrs. Colourful," he laughed, nudging Victor’s shoulder. "But I think the boss here wanted to play in a different league."
Victor reached for a large, heavy gift box wrapped in silver paper. His expression was soft, his eyes tracking every movement of my face. He handed it to me with a quiet, steady hand. I pulled the ribbon, and my breath hitched. Resting inside was a deep crimson designer dress, the fabric so fine it felt like liquid silk. Beside it were black elegant heels that looked like they belonged in a museum, and a velvet box containing a delicate gold jewelry set. Just looking at the labels, I knew this outfit cost more than three months of my salary.
He was keeping the special teddy bear hidden for now, wanting to savor that moment for later, but this was a statement.
"Happy birthday, Rainbow," Victor said, his voice dropping to that low, intimate register. "Since red looked so good on you at the cinema, I decided you needed a set of your own. I want you to wear it today."
"Victor... this is too much," I whispered, running my fingers over the silk. "It’s so costly. I can’t possibly—"
"It's not a big deal," he interrupted, his smirk returning. "Consider it an investment in my favorite view. Now, birthday girl, cut the cake and get ready to leave before Maya decides to come up here and bite you herself. And speaking of your sister..." He handed me a second, box. "Here is a gift for her, as per her 'request' for a bribe."
I laughed, heading to the kitchenette to grab a knife. "You actually listened to her? You're going to spoil her, Victor."
We sat in the dim light, dishing up slices of the rich chocolate cake for breakfast. It was the most unconventional birthday morning I’d ever had—cracking jokes with a trainer and a man who was supposed to be my patient, eating cake while the rest of the world was still asleep.
"Vane," I said, looking over at him. "Can you come today too? To the brunch? If you’re not busy, I’d love for you to be there."
Vane wiped a smudge of frosting from his thumb, looking thoughtful. "Sure, sunshine. I’ll check my schedule, but I’ll let you know before 2:00 PM. I wouldn't mind seeing the den where this Rainbow was raised."
Within thirty minutes, the cake was gone and the boxes were packed. Vane offered to drop me off, his rugged SUV idling in the rain-slicked driveway of the mansion. As we drove away from the Hill, I looked back at the basement window. I could see the faint glow of the lamps, and I knew Victor was still there, watching the taillights disappear.
When I stepped into my house, I was met with a wall of sound. My mother, father, and Maya were all in the hallway, mid-verse of their own rendition of "Happy Birthday." Leo was jumping up and down, clutching a handmade drawing.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart!" my mom cried, pulling me into a hug that smelled like maple syrup and home.
After the hugs and the flurry of well-wishes, I pulled Maya aside into the kitchen. "I have something for you. From the 'Grinch.'"
"No way!" Maya’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas. She grabbed the box, tearing into it with zero hesitation. She pulled out a sleek, black designer dress with matching heels, and underneath it, a two-piece Burberry set for Leo.
"Oh my god!" she shrieked, holding the tiny Burberry shirt up. "He actually did it! El, I love the Grinch! Tell him I take back every mean thing I ever said about his brooding."
"You can tell him yourself," I replied, trying to sound casual as I started checking the pantry for brunch supplies. "He’s coming today."
Maya froze, the black dress draped over her arm. She stood there with her mouth open for a full five seconds before she started clapping her hands. "Girl, what? He’s actually coming? To this house? With Liam here? With the pancakes? Elena, this is going to be a disaster. A beautiful, expensive disaster."
"Yes, he's coming, Maya. Let’s not argue about it," I said, though my heart was already starting to hammer against my ribs.
"I'm not arguing! I'm getting my popcorn ready!" she cackled.
We moved into the kitchen, the atmosphere shifting into high gear. We had three hours to make sure everything was perfect. We checked the list: eggs, flour, blueberries, sausages.
"We're missing the heavy cream for the fruit bowls," my mom noted, peeking into the fridge. "And we need more napkins."
"I'll go," Maya volunteered, grabbing her keys. "Elena, come with me. We need to get you out of the house before Liam arrives early to 'help.' We need a few minutes of peace at the shopping center."
As we headed to the car, the rain finally started to let up, replaced by a pale, watery sun. It was my birthday, and the stage was set. In a few hours, the man who represented my past and the man who held my future would be sitting at the same table. I looked at my reflection in the car window—the girl who was about to host a brunch that would either cement her life or blow it to pieces.