Chapter 7
Jace hadn’t slept in days.
Each time he closed his eyes, his mind dragged him back to that single line on Elias’s phone:
"Did he ask about 2009 yet?"
2009...That year played over and over in his head like a cursed refrain. He had scoured every dark corner of his memory, replayed every tragedy in brutal clarity, and yet—2009 was a void. A year swallowed by grief. The year his parents died.
He had meant to play Elias, seduce him, trap him. But now? Now he was the one somehow unravelling.
He avoided Elias with surgical precision. Left texts unanswered. Declined calls. He needed space to think, to breathe, to protect Noah—his reason for everything. And yet, when he closed his eyes, he could still feel Elias’s fingers pressing into his skin, his voice dark and low in his ear, the taste of him like smoke and sin. Desire had tangled with hate, and now they were indistinguishable.
Jace stood behind the bar, wiping the same glass for the third time. The club was loud, the bass thrumming through his chest, but none of it touched him. His body moved on instinct—pour, smile, nod, repeat—but his thoughts were a storm.
Noah’s surgery had gone through a week ago—a partial match. It's not ideal, but better than nothing. The doctors had warned them about risks, rejection, and complications. Jace clung to the hope that his brother would pull through.
His phone vibrated.
Not again.
He didn't even look at the screen, already certain it was Elias. Elias had called twice yesterday, three times this morning, and now again. The last voicemail had been devoid of warmth, just Elias’s voice, cool and commanding: "Be at the address I sent. Tonight."
Jace deleted it without listening to the rest.
He had no intention of going.
His phone buzzed again. This time, something in his gut twisted. A deeper chill spread through his spine.
He picked it up.
Hospital.
His breath left his lungs.
“Hello?”
“Is this Jace Rivera?”
“Yes. What’s wrong?”
“It’s your brother. He’s experiencing complications. He’s being moved into a medically induced coma. We need you to come immediately.”
Everything in him shut down.
Glasses clinked. Laughter rang out. But the world had gone silent.
“I’m on my way.”
Jace didn’t remember the walk out, only the rain soaking through his jacket as he sprinted the three blocks to the hospital. He stormed into the ICU, heart pounding so violently it hurt.
Noah looked smaller,pale, unconscious, hooked up to more machines than Jace could count. His chest rose and fell in stuttered intervals.
A doctor approached. “The kidney is being rejected. He needs another surgery to remove it and prepare for dialysis until we find a full match.”
Jace stared at him, shaking his head. “We already paid everything we had. I don’t—”
“I’m sorry. We’ll need consent and funding by tomorrow morning.”
He sank into the plastic chair by Noah’s bed, head in his hands, guilt crashing over him like a tide. He’d failed him. Failed again.
His phone vibrated once more.
Elias.
Jace’s stomach turned.
Noah’s machines beeped steadily, but the threat beneath them was deafening.
He answered.
There was no greeting, just that same tone—sharp and cool. “Come to the address I sent you. Now.”
For some minutes he didn't speak but...
“I’ll be there.” The words so weak he didn’t know when they came out.
—
The location was a private rooftop lounge atop one of Crane Corp’s luxury buildings—opulent, intimidating, silent. There were no guests, just Elias standing near a glass railing, skyline glittering behind him like a million secrets.
He didn’t turn around as Jace stepped closer.
“I don’t like being ignored,” Elias said flatly.
Jace swallowed. “You’re used to people crawling when you snap your fingers?”
“I’m used to loyalty. Which you’ve made clear you lack.”
Jace bristled. “You don't own me.”
That made Elias turn.
For a long moment, they just stared at each other. The wind tugged at Jace’s shirt, slicked his damp hair across his forehead. Elias’s gaze dropped, lingering. His hand slid around the back of jace's neck.
“I’ve been patient,” Elias murmured, lips inches from his skin. “But I don’t like games.”
“You like to be in control, huh?.”
“I do. Which is why I’m going to remind you who you belong to.”
The kiss was sudden, fierce—Elias’s mouth claiming his with bruising hunger. Jace didn’t resist. He couldn’t. The pain, the fear, the guilt—he poured it all into that kiss.
Elias’s hands moved under his shirt, cold fingers tracing his spine, and Jace gasped, his head falling back as Elias bit down on his throat.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Elias said against his skin. “That ends tonight.”
Jace shivered, voice ragged. “What if I don’t want to be your toy anymore?”
Elias chuckled darkly. “Then I’ll just have to break you in again.”
He pushed Jace back against the glass wall, and Jace’s breath hitched.
"Who am I to you?" Jace whispered.
Elias's smile was cruel. "Mine."
He unbuttoned Jace's shirt slowly, each pop of fabric louder than the wind around them. When Jace made a move to step back, Elias gripped his waist and pushed him firmly against the glass wall.
"I warned you what would happen if you disobeyed me." Elias's voice was velvet-wrapped steel. "You want to pretend you're not mine, but your body never lies."
Jace swallowed hard. He was already half-hard, his breath quick and shallow.
Elias ran his tongue along the edge of Jace's jaw. "Beg."
"What?"
"Beg me to touch you."