To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 244

She staggered out of the restroom and, without warning, collided with a wall of solid warmth—someone’s chest.

Zane steadied her by the waist, his gaze cool and unreadable. “Liquid courage, huh? Feeling braver now?”

When Elara realized who it was, she scowled. “Are you everywhere tonight or is it just my bad luck?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Zane didn’t let go.

Elara shoved at him. “Let go! What’s with you and grabbing my waist all the time? Is this some weird kink of yours?”

He didn’t budge. His eyes lingered on her face, distant yet oddly gentle, as if he was trying to memorize this version of her—grown, sharp, and stubborn.

For a fleeting second, he found himself thinking, So this is what you’ve become.

But the thought vanished almost as quickly as it came, replaced by a wry, private smile. He prided himself on never being swayed by a pretty face, yet right now, he almost wished she was the person he’d been searching for. Dangerous, he chastised himself.

A hint of irritation flickered across his brow as he spoke, voice casual, “You keep making me feel like I’m St. Anthony tempted in the desert.”

“Saint what—” Elara barely got the words out before he suddenly dropped his hold and turned away.

She lost her balance, her heel twisting sharply beneath her. A jolt of pain shot through her ankle and she gasped, catching herself against the wall.

Zane hesitated, then returned to see her hunched and rubbing her ankle.

“What now?”

The alcohol was fueling her temper. She glared up at him. “Next time, could you at least give me a heads-up before you let go? Or is this some kind of revenge for whatever I did to offend you, Mr. Lawrence?”

He glanced down at her swelling ankle and, barely audible, sighed in resignation. Without another word, he bent and scooped her up in his arms.

—

Jason was sitting among a group of male models, flicking glances at the entrance and wondering if he should just leave when he spotted Quincy Shelton heading his way.

If Quincy was here, that meant his uncle couldn’t be far.

If his uncle saw him hanging out with all these models…

Jason’s heart skipped a beat. He shot to his feet, forcing a nervous smile. “Secretary Shelton, you here for the party too?”

Quincy wore his usual polite, unreadable smile. “Mr. Lawrence isn’t here.”

Jason’s relief lasted all of two seconds.

Quincy continued, “He’s considering whether Ryan should take over your role.”

A cold sweat broke out on Jason’s back. “These guys? They’re for our clients. Strictly business.”

Zane replied with a noncommittal “Mm.”

Quincy hesitated, then pressed, “And… did you get Miss Jules’s hair?”

Zane hung up without answering.

Quincy stared at his phone, speechless.

—

Elara completely forgot it was Saturday—no work.

She was deep in sleep the next morning when her phone shrilled, jarring her awake.

It was Brian calling.

Still groggy and cranky, she answered, “This had better be important.”

Brian’s voice was hoarse and low. “I’m at St. Anselm’s Chapel, asking Father Benedict to pray for our child. He said it would work better if the mother was present…”

He paused, then added quietly, almost pleading, “Can you come?”