Jace didn't expect to see Elias again so soon.
The very next night, he was behind the bar at the Lux high-rise lounge—his backup gig when tips at the hotel dried up. The place catered to high-end clients: dark lighting, jazz humming through the speakers, everything drenched in luxury and secrets.
He'd almost skipped the shift. His pride was still sore from the night before.
But Noah's medical bills didn't care about his feelings.
He was wiping down the counter when the door chimed.
And just like that, there he was.
Elias Crane.
This time in a charcoal coat, his hair damp from the rain, sleeves rolled up like he owned the night. No entourage. No security. Just him, and that same cold energy that wrapped around him like armor.
Jace's heart stalled in his chest.
"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.
Elias walked straight to the bar and sat, eyes locking onto Jace like he'd been looking for him.
Jace hesitated for half a second before forcing himself forward.
"What'll it be?" he asked, tone flat.
Elias studied him. "You again."
"You've got a good memory for someone so rich," Jace replied, not bothering to fake a smile.
A corner of Elias's mouth lifted. "I never forget someone who spills champagne on me."
"Guess I left an impression."
"You left a stain."
Jace leaned forward, resting both hands on the bar. "If you're here to fire me again, you'll have to get in line."
Elias didn't flinch. "Relax. I'm not here to ruin your night. Not this time."
Jace arched an eyebrow. "So why are you here?"
"Curious."
"About what?"
"You." Elias paused, letting the silence stretch. "You didn't grovel. You didn't beg. That's rare."
Jace poured a drink he didn't ask for and set it in front of him. "I'm not interested in impressing rich men with power complexes."
"And yet here you are. Serving me again."
"I need the money."
"I know." Elias swirled the glass. "Your face says everything."
Jace blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Pain. Desperation. Like someone carrying the weight of something big." Elias's voice lowered, just slightly. "It's written all over you."
Jace looked away, throat tightening. "Drink your damn whiskey."
Elias sipped it, eyes never leaving him. "You're interesting, Jace."
Jace flinched. He hadn't said his name tonight.
"Checked the schedule," Elias said, almost lazily. "Your name was on it."
Jace stared. "You've got nothing better to do than stalk the guy who spilled a drink on you?"
"Let's just say I have a good eye for potential."
Jace narrowed his eyes. "Potential for what?"
Elias leaned forward across the bar. "That's what I'm trying to find out."
The heat between them shifted.
It wasn't friendly. It wasn't warm.
It was sharp and electric, something dark humming beneath the surface.
Jace swallowed, pulse kicking up. "Is this how you flirt? With threats and ego?"
"Only when it works."
Jace took a slow breath. "You think you can just buy people, don't you?"
Elias looked genuinely amused. "Everyone has a price."
"Not me."
"You sure?" Elias's eyes dropped for the first time—slowly, deliberately—lingering just a little too long before returning to meet Jace's.
Jace felt it like a shock through his core.
"Do you want me to kiss you or hit you?" Jace whispered without thinking.
Elias tilted his head, eyes glinting. "I like surprises."
Jace exhaled, leaning in close, nose almost brushing Elias's. "Keep pushing me, and you'll find out I'm not one of your toys."
Elias didn't back down. "Good. I'm tired of toys. I want a challenge."
The silence between them simmered. The kind of tension that sat heavy in the chest and lower, like a thread pulled too tight.
Jace's voice dropped. "Why are you really here?"
"I told you. I'm curious."
"No," Jace said. "You're hunting something. And I want to know if it's me—or something you think I can give you."
Elias didn't answer right away. Then, he smiled. "Maybe I'm just bored."
"I'm not entertainment."
Elias drained his drink and stood, pushing the glass forward.
"I never said you were." He leaned closer, his voice a whisper now. "But I like the way you look when you're angry."
Jace's chest tightened. "You don't know anything about me."
"Yet."
With that, Elias turned and walked out of the bar.
Jace watched him go, fists clenched under the counter. He should've hated him. And he did.
But he also couldn't ignore the rush of heat still clinging to his skin.
This was exactly what he wanted, wasn't it?
To get close. To seduce. To destroy.
So why did it feel like Elias had already started unraveling him?
—
It was nearly 3 a.m. when Jace finally left the lounge. His head buzzed with everything he hadn't said, every stare Elias had given him, every damn nerve set on fire.
His phone buzzed as he walked to the bus stop.
Unknown Number: You owe me another drink. —E.C.
Jace stared.
He didn't respond.
Not right away.
But he didn't delete the message either.
—
The next day, the hospital called.
They'd found a partial match for Noah.
But the surgery cost was more than he could dream of affording.
Fifty thousand dollars upfront.
Jace had no insurance. No savings. No help.
He sank into the chair beside Noah's bed, heart in his throat.
The nurse walked in, handing him a stack of forms. "We'll need payment confirmation to schedule the procedure."
Jace nodded, numb.
Later that night, he sat on the fire escape outside their rundown apartment, staring at Elias's message again.
He opened a new one.
Jace: what's your price for attention, Mr. Crane? Because I'm ready to sell mine.
And before he could think twice, he hit send