REBIRTH OF THE GHOST WIFE

Chapter 3 The Ghost in the Light

The scent of sawdust and expensive cologne still clung to the air long after Silas Thorne had vanished from the gallery. Sia stood frozen, her hand resting on the small, colorful building block Leo had left behind. Silas had looked at it with the intensity of a man trying to solve a crime.

He's gone, Sia. You can breathe now.

Elena Rossi, Sia’s only true friend and the keeper of her darkest secrets, stepped out from the back office. She was carrying a sleepy three year old whose head was tucked into the crook of her neck.

"Did he see him?" Sia whispered, her voice trembling.

No. I kept Leo in the playroom, Elena said, her eyes filled with concern. "But Silas Thorne isn't a man you can hide things from for long. He has resources, Sia. If he starts digging.

Then I’ll dig faster, Sia snapped, her Strong and Independent mask sliding back into place. She took Leo from Elena’s arms, the weight of her son grounding her.

Leo stirred, his small hand clutching her blazer. "Mama? Did the giant go away?"

The giant? Sia asked, brushing a curl from his forehead.

The man with the loud shoes, Leo murmured, his eyes half closed. He smelled like the rain.

Sia’s heart skipped a beat. Even as a child, Leo was "scary smart." He had inherited his mother’s intuition and unfortunately, his father’s sharp, observant eyes. She held him tighter, a silent vow screaming in her mind: I will never let Julian Vane know you exist.

The Ghost Estate was a jagged tooth of rock and rotted wood overlooking the Atlantic. It was the perfect project for a woman who wanted to disappear. Silas had bought it for a fortune, and now it was Sia’s job to turn this ruin into a fortress.

She stood on the edge of the cliff, her yellow hard hat pulled low. In her hands were the blueprints for a Sanctuarya home with thick walls and hidden passages that only she and Silas would know.

The foundation is cracked,a voice boomed from behind her.

Sia didn't have to turn around to know who it was. The Alpha energy in the air was unmistakable. Silas Thorne was standing there, dressed in a black turtleneck and dark jeans, looking more like a predator than a billionaire.

"Foundations can be rebuilt, Mr. Thorne," Sia said calmly. "It’s the memories inside the walls that are harder to fix."

Silas walked up beside her, so close that his shoulder brushed hers. The Spark from the day before returned, a heat that made the cold sea wind vanish. He looked down at her blueprints, his gaze lingering on a hidden room she had labeled Safe Zone

You're obsessed with safety, Sia, he noted, his voice a low rumble. Who are you running from?

Sia didn't blink. I'm not running. I'm building.

Liar! Silas whispered. He reached out, his fingers ghosting over the pulse at her wrist. Your heart is racing. You look like a woman waiting for a ghost to jump out of the shadows.

Before she could respond, the sound of a second car a silver sports car screeched to a halt in the gravel driveway.

Sia’s blood turned to ice. She knew that engine. She knew that arrogant way of driving.

"Silas! I heard you were out here playing in the dirt!"

Julian Vane stepped out of the car, adjusting his designer sunglasses. He looked exactly as he had three years ago handsome, polished, and utterly rotten.

Sia’s heart hammered against her ribs. She couldn't run. If she ran, she would look guilty. She pulled her hard hat lower, praying the shadows and her new, short hair would protect her.

Vane, Silas said, his voice turning into a growl. He stepped instinctively in front of Sia, his Protective and Possessive nature taking over. You’re trespassing.

"I'm looking for the architect," Julian said, walking toward them with a smirk. I hear she’s a genius. I have a project that needs a woman’s touch.

Julian stopped three feet away. He looked at Silas, then his eyes drifted to the woman hidden behind Silas’s broad shoulders.

Sia held her breath. Don't look up. Don't look at his eyes.

Ms. Vance, isn't it? Julian asked, his voice dripping with fake charm. I don't think we've met. But you remind me of someone.

someone I used to know.

Julian reached out to tilt Sia’s chin up so he could see her face. Silas’s hand shot out, grabbing Julian’s wrist with bone crushing strength.

Touch her,Silas warned, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light, and you won't have a hand to sign your bankruptcy papers with.

Julian gasped, his eyes darting between the two. He looked at Sia again closer this time. A flicker of realization, a ghost of a memory, crossed his face.

The silence that followed Julian’s departure was heavier than the sea mist rolling off the cliffs. Silas didn't let go of Sia’s arm immediately; his grip was firm, a silent claim of protection that sent a jolt of heat through her veins.

You're shaking,Silas observed, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous velvet.

It’s the wind, Mr. Thorne,Sia lied, pulling her arm back. Her Strong and Independent facade was cracking, and she hated it.

Silas stepped into her personal space, his shadow engulfing her. The wind doesn't make a woman turn as white as a sheet just by hearing a man’s name. You know Julian Vane.

Sia looked up, her gaze meeting his Humanized yet piercing eyes. Everyone in this industry knows Julian Vane. He’s a vulture. He steals what he can’t build.

Then why did you look like you were seeing a ghost? Silas reached out, his thumb grazing her jawline. It was a Possessive gesture, but his touch was surprisingly gentle. If he’s hurt you, Sia, tell me. I don’t just build houses. I destroy enemies.

The "Spark" between them was undeniable, a raw pull that made Sia want to lean into him and confess everything—about the gala, the betrayal, and the Secret Baby sleeping in the nursery. But she couldn't. Not yet.

I don't need a hero, Silas,she whispered, using his first name for the first time. I just need to finish this house.

Silas lingered for a moment, his gaze searching hers for the truth. Fine. But my security stays at the gate. No one gets to you without going through me first.

Julian Vane gripped the steering wheel of his silver sports car so hard his knuckles turned white. He sped away from the cliffside, the image of Ms. Vance burned into his mind.

It’s impossible, he told himself, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Seraphina is dead. I saw the coat. I saw the black water.

But that woman she had the same tilt of the head. The same way of standing that made her look like she was made of steel and silk. And Silas Thorne the Ice King himself was acting like a Protectivebeast over her.

Why would Silas Thorne hire a ghost?Julian hissed to the empty car.

He pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed his phone, dialing Vivienne Sterling.

Julian? Where are you? The board meeting is—

Shut up, Vivienne, he snapped, his Villain nature surfacing. I need you to contact the private investigator we used three years ago. I want every record of Seraphina’s death reopened. And I want a background check on an architect named Sia Vance.

Sia? Julian, you’re being paranoid, Vivienne laughed, though her voice held a hint of fear. She’s gone. You won.

I only win when I see the body," Julian growled, looking back toward the cliff in the rearview mirror. And something tells me the 'mousy' wife I threw away is currently building a throne for my biggest rival."

As Julian drove off, he didn't notice the black SUV following him at a distance one of Silas Thorne’s men, already tracking the predator to keep the Ghost safe.