Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary of the Lost
The rain had turned into a torrential downpour by the time Julian’s armored SUV pulled up to the grand entrance of Boston General Hospital.
Julian strode through the sliding glass doors, his long black overcoat billowing behind him. His presence was commanding, radiating a cold aura of power that made the nurses and security guards instantly step out of his path. He was the Don of Back Bay, and when he walked into a room, people knew to clear the way.
He bypassed the reception desk and went straight to the elevator, Elias walking half a step behind him.
"She’s on the fourth floor, ICU," Elias said, checking his tablet. "Admitted under the alias 'Sarah Jenkins.' The medical bills are being paid by a shell corporation tied to Victor Vance's private trust. She’s heavily sedated, Julian. Our contact inside says they’ve been keeping her under chemical restraints to prevent her from speaking to anyone."
Julian’s jaw tightened so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. "If my uncle has harmed her, I will personally ensure he spends the rest of his life in a concrete cell."
The elevator doors opened on the fourth floor. The ICU was quiet, smelling of bleach and illness. Julian walked down the corridor, his eyes scanning the room numbers until he found Room 412.
Two men in cheap gray suits stood outside the door. They were obviously hired muscle—the kind of low-level thugs Victor Vance used to handle his dirty work.
As Julian approached, the men stepped forward, their hands moving toward their jackets.
"This is a private room, pal," one of them said, his voice rough. "No visitors."
Julian didn't even slow down. He grabbed the man by his lapels, slamming him against the wall with a force that shattered the glass light fixture above them. Elias moved with lightning speed, striking the second guard in the solar plexus and sweeping his legs, bringing him crashing to the linoleum floor.
Julian leaned in close to the first guard, his winter-blue eyes inches from the man’s face. "I am Julian Vance. If you ever breathe in my direction again, I will have your names removed from every database in this country and dump you in the harbor. Get out."
The guards, pale with terror, scrambled to their feet and ran down the corridor toward the exit stairwell.
Julian took a deep breath, composed himself, and pushed the door to Room 412 open.
The room was dimly lit, the only sound the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. On the bed lay a frail, pale woman. Her hair was gray, her face lined with the hardships of a life lived in hiding, but Julian recognized her instantly.
It was Clara.
He walked to the bedside, his heart aching as he looked at his younger sister. She looked so small, so broken by the very family that should have protected her. He reached out, gently taking her hand. It was cold, her fingers thin and weak.
"Clara," he whispered. "It’s Julian. I’m here."
Clara’s eyelids fluttered. She groaned, her head moving slowly from side to side as she fought against the heavy sedatives. Her eyes opened, cloudy and unfocused, but as they locked onto Julian’s face, a sudden spark of recognition flared in them.
"Julian?" she gasped, her voice dry and cracked. "Is... is it really you?"
"Yes, Clara. It’s me. I’m here."
"The... the baby," she stammered, panic rising in her voice as she tried to sit up. "They took him... Victor’s men. They said they were going to get rid of him. They said he was a mistake, a liability..."
"He’s safe, Clara," Julian said, his voice warm and steady as he gently pressed her back onto the pillows. "He’s at the mansion. Lily found him. She brought him to me. They are both safe, I promise you."
Clara let out a long, shuddering sob, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks. "Oh god, Julian. I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you... I wanted to bring them to you years ago, but Arthur... father said you wanted this. He said you were the one who ordered the surrogacy. He said you wanted heirs but didn't want the burden of a family."
Julian felt a cold fury wash over him. "He lied to you, Clara. He lied to both of us. He told me I was sterile. He harvested my DNA while I was in a coma. He used you, and he used me, to build his sick dynasty."
"We have to go," Clara whispered, her grip on his hand tightening with surprising strength. "Victor... he’s planning something. He’s calling a meeting of the family board tonight at the downtown office. He’s going to declare you unfit to lead the empire. He’s going to use the baby’s birth records to claim that you’ve been conducting illegal human experiments in secret to create an heir."
Julian let out a cold, dark laugh. It was a sound that had struck fear into the hearts of Boston's business elite for years.
"Let him try," Julian said, standing up. He looked at Elias, who stood by the door. "Elias, get the hospital’s private transport team. I want my sister moved to our private medical suite at the estate immediately. Double the guards on the mansion. No one enters without my personal authorization."
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"You got it, boss," Elias said.
Julian looked down at his sister, his face softening. "I’ve spent fifteen years building an empire of stone and iron, Clara. But today, I realized that the only thing worth owning is my family. I am going to end this tonight."
