Chapter 10 The Glass Monolith

POV: Liora Hayes

I stared at Xavier's thumb as it pulled away from the screen. That one motion..that simple, casual tap...had just bought my mother's life and sold mine.

"They're in," Xavier said, his voice as calm as if he'd just ordered a coffee. He leaned back and checked his watch. "The surgical theater is being prepped. Your mother is being stabilized. You can stop trembling, Liora. The crisis is managed."

Managed. My mother's heart had stopped, and he called it a managed crisis.

I slumped against the leather seat, the adrenaline leaving my body and leaving a hollow, aching exhaustion in its wake. I was still wet. The heater in the car had started to dry my pink uniform, but it only made the fabric feel stiff and itchy, smelling faintly of the diner's industrial dish soap. I looked down at my hands; they were red from the cold and shaking uncontrollably.

I felt like a smudge of dirt on a white silk sheet.

"We're here," Xavier announced.

I looked out the window and felt my breath hitch. We were no longer on the street; we were pulling into a private, sweeping driveway that led to the base of a building so tall the top was lost in the morning mist.

Luminaire Corp.

It was a 100-story monolith of black glass and steel. It didn't look like an office building; it looked like a fortress from the future. It was beautiful, sharp, and terrifying. As the car came to a halt, the sun finally broke through the gray clouds, hitting the glass and turning the entire tower into a pillar of blinding, golden light.

The driver opened my door. I stepped out, my legs feeling like lead.

"Heads up, Liora," Xavier whispered, leaning close to my ear as we walked toward the massive glass doors. "The people in this lobby have eyes like hawks. Don't let them see you're afraid."

I tried to straighten my back, but as soon as we stepped inside, my resolve vanished.

The lobby was vast...a cathedral of marble and light. The ceilings were forty feet high, and the walls were covered in art that probably cost more than the hospital debt. But it was the people that made me want to hide.

Everyone was perfect.

Women in tailored suits moved with the grace of runway models, their hair sleek and their jewelry discreetly expensive. Men spoke in low, confident tones into Bluetooth headsets, their watches flashing in the light. No one looked tired. No one looked hungry. No one looked like they had ever spent a night crying in a hospital waiting room.

As I walked past them in my damp, wrinkled pink dress and scuffed shoes, I felt their gazes. They didn't look at me with pity; they looked at me with confusion, as if a stray animal had somehow bypassed security.

"Don't look at them," Xavier commanded, steering me toward a bank of elevators at the far end of the hall.

These weren't the standard elevators. They were guarded by two men in dark suits who looked more like soldiers than security guards. They didn't ask for ID. They simply saw Xavier and stepped aside.

Xavier pressed his hand against a glass panel. A blue light scanned his palm.

Access Granted.

The doors slid open. Inside, the elevator was lined with mirrors and brushed gold. There were no buttons for floors.

"This is a direct line to the penthouse," Xavier explained. "It doesn't stop for anyone else. Not even the Vice Presidents."

The ascent was so fast my ears popped. I watched the floor indicator on a small screen: 80... 90... 95... My heart began to drum a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

This was it. The moment I would see the man who owned the world. The man who now owned me.

I caught my reflection in the elevator's gold-tinted mirrors. I looked like a disaster. My hair was a frizzy, tangled mess from the rain. There was a smudge of grease on my cheek from the diner. My eyes were bloodshot and circled with dark shadows.

"I look terrible," I whispered, a sudden spike of shame hitting me. "I can't meet him like this."

Xavier looked at me, his eyes cold and unblinking. "He didn't buy you for your fashion sense, Liora. He bought you for your blood. Just remember: you are here to sign a contract, not to be a guest. Keep your mouth shut unless he speaks to you."

The elevator gave a soft, melodic chime.

The doors didn't open into a hallway. They opened directly into a sprawling, open-plan office that took up the entire top floor of the building.

The first thing I saw was the view. A wall of glass stretched around the entire perimeter, making it feel like we were floating in the sky. The city looked tiny below us, a playground for the man who sat at the center of this room.

The office was silent, except for the faint hum of a high-end air filtration system. It was cold...freezing, actually. It felt like walking into a meat locker.

At the far end of the room, behind a desk made of a single piece of dark, polished stone, sat a silhouette. He was backlit by the morning sun, making him look like a shadow cast in the shape of a man.

He didn't turn around. He was looking out at the city, a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

Xavier stopped at the edge of a thick, charcoal-colored rug. I stopped beside him, my wet shoes leaving two small, pathetic damp spots on the expensive wool.

"Darian," Xavier said, his voice dropping into a tone of absolute deference. "She's here."

The man in the chair didn't move for a long, agonizing moment. Then, slowly, the chair began to rotate.