Chapter 10
Crane Global’s headquarters loomed in the early morning haze, a towering structure of glass and steel that reflected the sky like it owned it. Jace stood outside the entrance in fitted black jeans and a plain white tee, his curls still damp from a rushed shower. He looked calm, even casual, but inside, his chest was a storm.
This was the enemy’s fortress. Elias’s world. He was about to step into it.
He took a deep breath and walked through the revolving doors.
The lobby was sleek, polished to perfection. Gold accents. High ceilings. Marble floors that clicked under his boots. Every employee he passed was dressed like they belonged in a luxury magazine, barely glancing at him as they went about their day.
Jace made his way to the reception desk, where a woman with a tight bun and crimson lipstick glanced up at him. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm here to see Elias Crane. He told me to come by this morning."
She eyed him for a moment, then picked up the phone, murmuring into it. After a second, she nodded.
"You’re expected. Take the elevator to the top floor."
Jace’s pulse quickened. He gave a polite nod and turned toward the elevator. His reflection followed him in the mirrored walls, a reminder that he was walking straight into the territory of the man who had owned his body the night before.
He stepped inside and pressed the button.
The ride was silent except for the quiet hum of machinery. As the numbers climbed, so did his nerves.
He hadn’t slept much. Between the lingering heat of Elias’s touch and the weight of the 2009 message, his mind hadn’t shut off for a second. But he'd made a choice.
He was going to play this game to the end.
The elevator opened to a floor that screamed power. Dark wood panels. Tasteful modern art. Floor-to-ceiling windows casting sunlight across the open space.
And at the far end, Elias stood behind a desk, dressed in a tailored navy suit, sleeves rolled to his forearms, veins subtly visible as he signed a document.
He looked up the moment Jace stepped in.
"You’re early," Elias said, setting down his pen.
"You said morning."
A slow smile touched Elias’s lips. "Punctuality. I like that."
Jace stepped closer, his boots soundless against the carpet. He tried to focus on the goal: get the money, look for leads, get out.
Elias came around the desk and handed him an envelope. "Eighty thousand, as promised."
Jace took it with a quiet, "Thank you."
Elias studied him. "You look tense."
"It’s been a rough week."
Elias tilted his head slightly, eyes darkening. "You didn’t mention your brother before."
"You didn’t ask."
"Fair point." He stepped in closer, close enough that Jace could smell his cologne—spiced wood and something darker.
"You still haven’t answered me. The real reason you avoided me," Elias said.
Jace’s throat tightened. He shifted, playing it off with a shrug. "Noah’s condition got worse. That’s it."
Elias didn’t look convinced.
"And nothing else?" he asked, voice low.
Jace hesitated just long enough for Elias to notice.
The silence hung.
Then Elias turned and walked back toward his desk. "I won’t press," he said. "Not today."
Jace let out a quiet breath.
"You can stay as long as you want," Elias added. "Or leave. Your choice."
Jace tucked the envelope into his pocket and moved to the window, pretending to admire the skyline.
But really, he was watching Elias’s reflection. Watching for clues. Waiting for a moment.
"You run this entire floor?"
"The entire company."
"Impressive."
Elias chuckled softly. "Flattery doesn’t suit you."
Jace turned around and leaned casually against the glass. "Neither does being generous. And yet, here we are."
Elias came to stand in front of him again. "I told you, I take care of what’s mine."
Jace met his eyes. "And what am I to you, exactly?"
A charged silence stretched between them.
Elias didn’t answer.
The air thickened.
But then a knock at the door broke the moment.
Elias turned, irritated. "What?"
His assistant peeked in, looking nervous. "The legal team needs you in Conference Room B. Ten minutes ago."
Elias clenched his jaw. "Tell them I’m on my way."
She nodded and vanished.
Elias looked back at Jace. "Stay. Walk around. Get a feel for the place. Just don’t steal anything."
Jace gave him a crooked smile. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
Elias grabbed his jacket, brushing a hand against Jace’s waist as he passed. Then he was gone.
As the door shut, Jace’s mask dropped.
He turned back to the room, heart pounding.
This was his chance.
He moved quickly but carefully. Checking drawers. Glancing through documents. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for—just something. Anything about 2009.
He opened a filing cabinet behind the desk. Scanned the folders.
Then he saw it.
A folder labelled: 2009 – Legal Correspondence.
His blood turned to ice.
He reached for it, fingers trembling—
The door clicked open.
Jace whipped around, the file still in his hand.
But it wasn’t Elias.
A tall man with greying temples and sharp eyes stepped into the room, dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit. His presence was commanding. Cold. Dangerous.
Jace’s gut tightened.
He knew exactly who this was.
Victor Crane, Elias’s Father.
“Who the hell are you?” the man asked, his voice low and icy, scanning the room until his eyes landed on the folder.
Jace swallowed. “I—I was waiting for Elias. He said—”
Just as jace was explaining, the assistant stepped inside.
"Mr. Crane said you could wait in the lounge down the hall," she said, eyeing him.
Jace nodded stiffly. "Thanks."
She left.
Jace dropped the file and followed.
His saving grace, Victor's gaze silently followed him as he left.
This was Elias’s father.
This was the Crane. The man responsible for everything that happened to Jace’s family.
And now Jace had just painted a huge target on his back.