Ten months of sin

Emily practically bounced through the door, her heart still racing from the call she had just received. Years of waiting, of uncertainty, of desperate prayers...finally, a great opportunity.... She was a match. Relief surged through her, spilling over into giddy laughter she couldn't hold back.

Michael was already at the house, leaning against the kitchen counter with that infuriatingly calm smile.and his phone in his hand. Without thinking, she rushed to him, threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his. A breathless, joy-filled kiss.

Eyes her flew open as reality sank in . Literally....because she shoved him back and actually slapped him.

Michael staggered a step, his hand instinctively brushing his cheek, shock flashing across his features.

"Emily? What was that for?" He asked confusion written all over his pretty face.

"You signed me as your guarantor?!" she snapped, her voice trembling with rage. "When you don't pay back, 'I'm' the one they'll drag down! What the hell were you thinking, Michael?"

His expression softened, the corners of his mouth curving into that disarming grin she hated to love. "Em... I'm sorry. I panicked. I knew they'd never approve me without a backup, and you..." He stepped closer, lowering his voice, "you're the only one I trust enough. I shouldn't have done it without asking, I know. Forgive me?" he asked, brushing his thumbs across my cheeks.

She glared at him, torn between slapping him again and melting into those ridiculously earnest eyes.

"I'll make it up to you," he added quickly, sensing her wavering. "Dinner. Tonight. I'll cook for you. Just us."

Emily folded her arms across her chest, scowling. "You? Cook? Last time you nearly burnt this house down ."

Michael chuckled. "This time I'll be careful. Please? Let me do this for you." he pressed his forehead against her's.

She huffed, glaring one last time before finally muttering, "Fine. But if you burn my kitchen down, you're paying for the repairs."

"Deal," he said with a boyish grin, stealing one more kiss on her cheek before heading for the door.

" Where are you going?" She asked . " Uhm... I will be right back,I have to finish up with something quickly " he said, while looking at his phone screen as he backed away towards the front door.

As soon as he left, Emily sagged against the wall, groaning. God help her, that man knew how to twist her emotions. Pushing herself upright, she marched towards her room, into her closet, throwing open the doors. If she was going to let him get away with this dinner stunt, she might as well look like sin while doing it. Her fingers brushed over silky fabrics and fitted dresses, her mind buzzing with equal parts irritation and anticipation.

---

Meanwhile, in the suffocating darkness of the prison, Lilithe's world was far less forgiving. The sharp crack of a fist against her jaw sent her sprawling to the cold concrete floor. Her cellmate, a hulking woman with dead eyes, loomed over her, fists clenched, ready to strike again.

"Thought you were tough, huh?" the woman hissed, grabbing a fistful of Lilithe's hair and yanking her head back.

Pain shot down Lilithe's spine, but she bit her tongue, refusing to give her attacker the satisfaction of hearing her scream. Blood trickled from her lip.

Just as the next blow came swinging, the heavy iron door screeched open.

"Enough!" A guard's voice cut through the chaos. The cellmate froze, breathing heavily, her grip loosening.

The guard stormed in, shoving the attacker aside and crouching beside Lilithe. Her eyes, unusually sharp for someone in this place, flicked over her bruises.

"You'll live," she muttered, her voice low enough for only her to hear. Then, softer, almost protective: "Don't give them a reason to break you." she said as she used her handkerchief to wipe the blood off the side kf her lips.

Lilithe lifted her head, in pain but unbroken. For the first time in weeks, she felt the faint flicker of something dangerous; hope.

"You!!... You're coming with me" the guard said as she dragged the cellmate out of the cell and left Lilithe on the ground.

---

The engine hummed low as Alexander leaned back against the leather seat, his knuckles drumming absently against the steering wheel. The day had been long, his mind already half-fixed on getting home.

His phone buzzed. He tapped the speaker, and the deep, clipped voice of one of his men filled the car.

"We've traced the girl. Emily. Lives in a small flat on the east side. She has a sister;prisoner as been in prison for a while ; killed her husband. Boyfriend in the picture, cheater and a leach. As a rich nonchalant father,a step mom and step sister. The family's clean enough... mostly."

Alexander's eyes narrowed. "Mostly?"

A pause, then the voice lowered, almost as if wary of being overheard.

"Her mother."

The words landed heavy in the cabin.

Alexander's grip tightened around the wheel. "What about her?"

The informant hesitated, then delivered the blow. "Her birth mother is Laura, Samuel Raults wife." The air left Alexander's lungs like a punch to the chest. He stopped the car in an instant ; stepping on the brake.For a moment, the world outside blurred, headlights stretching into meaningless streaks of light.

Samuel.

The name alone was poison. The man who had gutted his family; who had spilled the blood of his father and his little sister before vanishing into the shadows of history. For years, whispers circled: dead, alive, hiding. No proof, no body, only rumors.

And now this.

The same woman tied to Samuel... was Emily's mother.

His heart pounded in his chest, resurrecting a fire he thought long buried. A fire lit years ago, one Samuel himself had sparked with death and betrayal. His mind reeled; was this coincidence, or a thread deliberately woven back into his life?

Alexander's jaw clenched. He had spent fifteen years with no answers, chasing ghosts. And suddenly, here she was; a girl whose existence might hold the key to finding Samuel.

Emily.

Her name no longer sounded like an innocent curiosity. It felt like destiny.

And destiny, Alexander knew, was never kind.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, but was more of a warning. His grip on the wheel tighter.

Alexander's pulse still hammered against his temples as the car cut through the night. Samuel's name lingered in his mind like a curse, his thoughts clawing at the possibility that fate had just thrown him back into a nightmare he thought was buried.

He hit the intercom button on the dashboard. "I want confirmation," he ordered, his voice like steel. "Every detail about Emily's mother;where she's been, who she's seen, if she's even alive. Dig into graves if you have to. Don't bring me whispers, bring me facts."

"Yes, sir," came the swift reply through the speaker.

The line went dead, but Alexander remained motionless, his hand hovering over the wheel, fingers tight and restless.

A part of him didn't want to believe it. Couldn't.

Because if it was true;if Emily's blood really tied her to that woman, to Samuel; then the vow he made all those years ago would come roaring back to life. A vow spoken over his sister's grave, carved into his soul with every sleepless night:

If Samuel ever resurfaced, in any way, through anyone... I will finish it. I will burn everything tied to him.

The promise had been his compass, his torment, his only tether to justice when the world offered none.

And now, for the first time in fifteen years, that promise threatened to collide with the fragile happiness he was trying to piece together.

Alexander closed his eyes briefly, the image of Emily's smile flashing unbidden in the dark.

"God help me if this is true."he whispered.

****

Emily stood in front of her wardrobe, holding up two dresses against her body; one sleek and red, the other a soft silk black. She bit her lip, debating which one said sexy but not trying too hard.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. With a sigh, she tossed the dresses onto the bed and answered.

"Hello?"

"Miss Emily?" a calm male voice replied. "This is Dr. Raynold from St. Luke's Hospital. I'm afraid you left earlier without completing the blood draw for the surgery. It's very important you return tonight to finish. Without it, the process can't move forward."

Emily frowned, confusion cutting through her excitement. "Wait, I thought you told me to comeback tomorrow .Are you sure?"

"Yes," the doctor said smoothly. "It won't take long, I promise. Just a small draw, and then you're free to go. The sooner, the better."

She chewed her bottom lip, glancing at the dresses still tossed across her bed. Dinner with Michael... Now this? Her chest tightened with frustration. "Alright. I'll come back now."

"Thank you, Miss Emily. We'll be expecting you."

The call ended with a soft click. Emily tossed the phone back onto the bed, groaning as she grabbed her jacket.

*****

The hospital office was dimly lit. Dr. Raynold set the phone down slowly, the polite smile he had worn slipping from his face. He let out a shaky breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

Behind him, a shadow shifted. Sophia stepped forward, her heels clicking softly against the tile. Her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Good job," she murmured, her tone both sweet and threatening. She tapped a manicured finger against the desk. "Now, do exactly what I asked, and we won't have any problems."

Dr. Raynold swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Yes, ma'am."

Her eyes narrowed, sharp and dangerous. "And remember, no one must know about this. Not the hospital, not Alexander... no one."

She leaned in closer, her perfume filling the sterile air, her whisper colder than the fluorescent lights above. "If you slip, doctor, it won't just be your career you'll lose."

Dr. Raynold lowered his gaze, his silence trembling with fear.

Sophia straightened, satisfied, and with a final glance at the closed door, she slipped back into the shadows.

---

Emily was halfway out the door, jacket clutched in her hand, when the sound of footsteps caught her off guard. The door swung open, and there stood Michael, his arms overflowing with grocery bags. Vegetables, pasta, wine, everything he'd need to prove he wasn't bluffing about cooking tonight.

Her breath hitched. For a moment, she just stared, taken aback by the effort. Michael, who usually charmed his way out of responsibility, was actually trying.

He noticed her standing there, eyes wide, and grinned. "Surprised?"

Emily's lips curved into an involuntary smile. "More than surprised," she admitted softly. Then, guilt flickered in her chest. She tightened her grip on her jacket. "I have to go back to the hospital, but I'll explain later. Think of it as... a surprise. Okay?"

Michael raised a brow, suspicious but too charmed by her smile to argue. "Fine. But don't keep me waiting. I've got a whole dinner to impress you with."

She gave him a playful look, then slipped past him, leaving the scent of her perfume lingering in the hall.

---

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and cold air. Emily signed her name at the desk before being ushered quickly into a small room. Dr. Raynold was waiting, his tone brisk, almost urgent.

"Miss Emily, thank you for coming back. We just need a few pints of blood to start the transfusion and then you will be free to go ."

Emily nodded, trying to shake the unease curling in her stomach. She hated needles but told herself it was for a good cause. She closed her eyes as the needle pierced her arm, sucking the crimson liquid into the waiting bag.

But minutes passed. Then more minutes. Her body grew heavier, her skin clammy. A wave of dizziness hit her, and her head lolled back against the chair.

"How much longer?" she whispered, her voice faint.

Dr. Raynold avoided her gaze. "Almost done. Just a little more."

Her vision blurred. Her fingers twitched against the chair's armrest, too weak to protest. She felt herself slipping away, like the life was being siphoned out of her-because it was.

The door burst open. A nurse, younger and sharper-eyed than the rest, froze at the sight of the nearly full bags lined up beside Emily.

"Five pints?" She gasped. "Are you insane? That's too much for her size!"

Before Dr. Raynold could reply, the nurse yanked the tube out, blood dripping onto the floor. She quickly pressed cotton to Emily's arm and slid an arm around her shoulders.

"Come on," she murmured, guiding the half-conscious girl out of the room.

Emily's knees buckled, but the nurse held her steady, leading her down the corridor. They stopped by the hospital canteen, where the nurse set her down gently and pushed a tray of bread and juice toward her.

"Eat. Slowly. You need your strength back."

Emily, pale and trembling, blinked up at her savior. The bread felt like sandpaper on her tongue, but she forced it down, each bite anchoring her back to life.

For the first time today, a single, terrifying thought cut through the haze:

Something wasn't right about this.

"Are you ok?" The nurse asked, sitting beside her. " Yh, I think so. I just feel a bit dizzy that's all" Emily said while holding on to dear life. " I don't know why they are doing this especially when you are not the match they wanted" Emily's eyes grew wide in shock at the nurses statement.

" What.. what? What did you just say?" Emily asked, holding onto the nurses hands. Her eyes about to burst into years and her mind racing.

"I overheard the other nurses saying there was a match... Sophia; the child's mother. That's why I am confused,I don't know why they need more blood. I am sorry" the nurse said, as Emily squeezed both of her hands.

EMILY'S POV

'This can't be true. Why? Why? Do bad things happen to me? I thought this was fate's way of apologising for all the pain and anguish I have had to face, but no, it was just fate mocking me'. I thought to myself. I sat on the chair, not knowing whether to cry, shout or laugh. There was no point... So I just stood up and walked away.

I didn't even look at the nurse, I just left the hospital. This changes everything now. What's the point? When I can't help myself, Michael or my sister out of that hell .

What's the point of living anymore?