Chapter 2 - The Silver Compass
“Grant.”
The name hung in the freezing air of the apartment, spoken in a fragile, feverish whisper by a five-year-old child.
I froze.
I had been called many things in my life. Boss. Sir. A ruthless son of a bitch. But never by a child, and never with that tone of absolute familiarity.
I looked at Hannah. Her face was buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“Hannah,” I demanded, my voice dropping an octave, slipping into the tone that made grown men tremble. “Why does she know my name?”
Hannah slowly lowered her hands. Her eyes were red, defeated. She reached into the pocket of her oversized sweater and pulled out a small, tarnished object.
She held it out to me.
It was a silver compass. The glass was cracked, the casing dented, but I recognized the intricate engraving on the back instantly. To Julian. Find your way home. — Dad.
All the air left my lungs.
Julian. My son.
He had walked away from my empire six years ago, disgusted by the blood on my hands. Four years ago, the police found him dead in a cheap motel. An overdose, they said. I had buried my only child in a closed casket, my heart turning to stone ever since.
I took the compass. It felt like holding a ghost.
“He told me to give this to you,” Hannah whispered, her voice breaking. “If we ever needed you. But he also warned me that your world was too dangerous for a little girl.”
I stared at the child shivering beneath the winter coats. My granddaughter. The blood roaring in my ears was deafening.
“Julian is her father,” I said, the words tasting foreign, impossible, and yet, completely true. She had his dark hair. His jawline.
“Her name is Lily,” Hannah said. “Julian and I... we were together for three years before he died. I took a job at your estate just to see you. To see if you were the monster Julian claimed you were, or if it was safe to introduce you to your granddaughter.”
“And Celeste found out,” I concluded, the puzzle pieces slamming together with violent clarity.
“She saw the compass in my locker,” Hannah nodded, tears falling freely now. “She recognized it from the photos in your study. When she realized who Lily was, she started cutting my hours. She told me if I ever spoke to you, she’d have child services take Lily away. She said a mob boss’s housekeeper was an unfit mother.”
My fiancée had been systematically starving my granddaughter to force her out of the city. To remove the only rightful heir to my empire.
“Pack your things,” I said, my voice eerily calm.
“What?”
“You are leaving this freezing hellhole tonight. Both of you.”
I reached down to gather the winter coats tighter around Lily. As I lifted the heavy wool peacoat, something slipped out of the pocket and fluttered to the floor.
It was a faded hospital admission bracelet.
I picked it up. It was dated three years ago. The patient name was Lily Brooks. But it was the emergency contact name printed beneath it that made my blood run cold.
Emergency Contact: Celeste Rowan.
I looked up at Hannah, the betrayal burning in my chest.
May you like
“Why is my fiancée listed as the emergency contact for my granddaughter three years ago?” I asked. “You said she just found out about you.”
Hannah’s face went paper-white.
