Chapter 24
The ballroom glittered with gold and crystal, laughter echoing under chandeliers that sparkled like falling stars. Music drifted from a string quartet nestled in the corner, and the scent of wealth, of expensive perfume, aged wine, and polished arrogance hung thick in the air.
Jace stood at Elias’s side, dressed in a sleek deep navy, Italian-cut, with subtle silk detailing along the lapels. The one Elias had gotten for him.The suit that hugged his form like sin. Yet, despite the luxury, all he could hear was one thing.
“I think I’m falling for you, Jace.”
Elias’s words had been a whisper against his skin, spoken in the dark while their bodies were tangled and slick with sweat. But now, under the harsh glow of society’s watchful eyes, they clung to Jace’s mind like a cruel echo. He replayed it again and again.
Had he meant it?
Or was it just sex talk?
Elias looked as composed as ever—calm, confident, that signature Crane detachment in place like a perfectly tailored mask. Jace watched him sip champagne, lips brushing the glass with lazy indifference. No sign of the man who had once whispered devotion while pounding into him like he couldn’t breathe without him.
Jace’s chest tightened.
He didn't know what he felt. Lust? Yes. Hunger? Absolutely. But was that all it was?
Jace's thoughts cracked like illusions the moment Victor Crane entered the room.
The older man swept through the crowd like a storm wrapped in satin, towering and cold-eyed, his smile never touching his eyes. Conversation paused wherever he passed. People bowed their heads slightly, glasses lifted in respect—or fear.
And then Victor saw them.
His eyes locked on Jace, narrowing with a mixture of disdain and something darker. Jace held his ground, spine straightening, but the pressure in his chest thickened.
Victor made his way over with practiced arrogance, an amused sneer tugging at his mouth. “Well, well,” he drawled, lifting his glass, “if it isn’t the bartender.”
Jace froze.
The music kept playing. People kept smiling. But every ear in a five-foot radius had tuned in.
Victor turned to the group of suited men beside him. “I see you got a better pair of shoes. Did your boyfriend get it for you, bartender? "
Laughter.
Jace’s face burned, but he didn’t flinch. He glanced at Elias, standing just beside him.
Elias said nothing.
Not even a glance.
Victor tilted his head. “Tell me, son, did your father pass this suit down to you too? Or did elias get this for you? Are you using my son to fulfil your dreams to be one of us? You know that can never happen. You're just a filthy bartender”
More laughter. Louder now.
Jace clenched his jaw. He could walk away. He should walk away.
Victor’s smile twisted. “Oops.”
The glass tipped.
A full-bodied red spilled across the table beside Jace—sloshing over crystal, crashing into cutlery, pooling dramatically onto the marble floor like blood.
With quickness the closest bartenders rushed over to quickly clean up the mess but Victor motions for them to stop.
“Clean that up, would you?” Victor said smoothly turning to jace. “Old habits die hard, don’t they, boy? Thought you were good at taking orders.”
Silence.
Eyes locked on Jace.
Jace looked to Elias again. His heart pounded.
Say something.
Defend me.
Do something.
But Elias only sipped his champagne.
Jace swallowed. The sting in his throat was stronger than the scent of wine. Slowly, deliberately, he crouched down and reached for the white cloth napkin on the table. His hand trembled slightly as he pressed it to the floor, soaking up the mess while rich shoes stepped carefully around him.
He could hear the whispers.
“Isn’t that Elias’s assistant?”
“Didn’t he used to work in some bar?”
“Why’s he cleaning the floor?”
But jace blocked them, reminding himself of the reasons why he was here in the first place.
Revenge.
His brother.
Take down the Cranes.
He was halfway through blotting the marble when another splash hit him—this time straight on his shoulder. He gasped as the cold drink soaked into his suit jacket, trickling down his chest.
Victor had poured another one—slowly, purposefully—directly on him.
The laughter this time was uncontrollable. Raucous. Cruel. A woman clapped her hand over her mouth in mock shock.
Jace slowly stood, soaked, humiliated. His chest heaved. He looked at Elias again, one last time, heart screaming.
Please.
Please.
But Elias didn’t even meet his eyes.
He stared ahead, glass poised at his lips, jaw tight—but still silent.
Something inside Jace broke.
So that was it.
The man who’d fucked him like he owned him… didn’t even care enough to protect him. Not in public. Not when it mattered most.
The lie echoed in his head like thunder.
“I think I’m falling for you.”
Bullshit.
Jace dropped the soaked napkin, the red stain blooming across the floor like a wound. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away, past the crowd, past the sneers, past Elias—who still hadn’t moved.
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(Elias POV of the event)
Elias adjusted the cuff of his suit, standing tall beneath the chandelier’s cold brilliance. The ballroom was opulent, suffocatingly so. Polished marble floors gleamed like ice under his shoes, and crystal chandeliers dangled overhead, glittering with every practiced laugh and swirl of perfume.
But none of it mattered.
Because he was here.
Jace stood beside him, beautiful in his suit, jaw tight, shoulders straight despite the eyes that trailed after him like vultures. Elias’s gaze drifted to him again—he couldn’t help it. Jace was magnetic, tension humming beneath the surface of his elegant appearance like a live wire.
And all Elias could think about was what he’d said last night.
“I think I’m falling for you, Jace.”
He hadn’t meant to say it. The words had slipped, raw and breathless. He wondered if Jace had heard the words the way he meant them.
Elias shifted his weight and lifted his glass to his lips. His fingers were tight around the stem. Too tight. He couldn’t afford weakness tonight. Not in front of these people. And definitely not in front of his father.
He spotted Victor before anyone else did.
The man’s presence was always a chill in the room before he even spoke. Elias felt his throat tighten. He hadn't seen him since their last private meeting since Victor reminded him what he stood to lose if he defied him again.
Elias’s pulse spiked. He inhaled through his nose, steadying his expression.
Victor’s attention snapped to Jace like a predator scenting blood.
And just like that, the storm began.
“Well, well,” Victor said as he approached, voice smooth and venom-laced. “If it isn’t the bartender.”
Elias froze.
He knew what his father was doing. He could see it in the twitch of his lips, the subtle signal to the leeches orbiting around him. It was a performance. Humiliation as entertainment.
Jace stiffened beside him, but didn’t speak.
"Victor turned to the group of suited men beside him. “I see you got a better pair of shoes. Did your boyfriend get it for you bartender? "
Laughter.
It sliced through Elias’s skin.
His jaw clenched. He glanced at Jace, who was holding his ground, eyes like flint. Elias’s instinct screamed at him to shut it down. To step forward and say something,
anything.
But his father’s warning echoed again, loud and merciless.
Victor was testing him. This wasn’t about Jace. It was about control.
Then came the wine.
Victor tipped the glass, slow and calculated, letting it spill across the table and onto the floor. With quickness the closest bartenders rushed over to quickly clean up the mess but victor motions for them to stop.
“Clean that up, would you?” Victor said smoothly as he turned towards jace. “Old habits die hard, don’t they, boy? Thought you were good at taking orders.”
Elias's hand twitched at his side.
Do something.
Say something.
But he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
Jace looked at him. Just once. A flicker of pain hidden behind his lashes, eyes silently begging for support.
And Elias didn’t move.
He had to force himself not to.
Because Victor was watching.
Elias swallowed his guilt like glass.
Jace bent down and began to clean the mess.
The crowd watched, amused. Whispers fluttered like moths.
Then—Victor took another glass and poured it directly onto Jace’s shoulder.
Elias nearly stepped forward.
His foot did move.
But he caught himself just in time.
The sound of laughter roared like static in his ears. Jace slowly stood, his chest rising and falling. His suit soaked. His pride bruised.
He looked at Elias again.
Elias didn’t even meet his eyes. Guilt didn’t let him.
Jace turned without a word and walked away, Elias could feel the pain radiating off him like heat. It knocked the air from Elias’s lungs
And the moment he disappeared through the crowd,Elias felt something inside him crumble.The silence he’d used to protect his mother had just shattered the one person who mattered.
He stood there, frozen, surrounded by laughter, by power, by everything that had once defined him and realized he’d never felt more powerless in his life.