SUGAR BABY

Chapter:6 Shadows from the Past

The state-of-the-art suite at the Saint Jude Cardiac Institute smelled faintly of lavender and sterile floor wax.

Hope looked healthier than she had in years. The pale blue tint on her lips was entirely gone, replaced by a soft, natural pink, and her cheeks held a warm glow. She sat propped up in bed with a sketchpad in her lap, swinging her legs over the side as a nurse recorded her steady, rhythmic vital signs.

"Look, Glory!" Hope beamed, holding up a drawing of a bright, sunlit garden. "Dr. Harrison said if my bloodwork stays this clear, I might be able to take short walks in the courtyard next week."

Glory managed a gentle, genuine smile, sitting on the edge of the bed to smooth her sister’s hair back. "That's amazing news, sweetie. You just keep focusing on resting."

For a few fleeting moments, the crushing weight in Glory’s chest eased. Seeing Hope thrive was proof that every sacrifice, every humiliating boundary crossed, was worth it. But as Glory stepped outside into the quiet hospital corridor, the cold reality of her situation surged back.

Alexander had been gone for two days. His absence left the penthouse feeling less like a refuge and more like an opulent cage. Her phone, provided by Alexander's staff, remained quiet—no calls, no messages, just a daily automated update from his head of security confirming her schedule.

Glory walked down the sleek glass hallway toward the elevator, clutching a paper cup of warm tea. As she rounded the corner, her phone vibrated in her hand.

Expecting a message from Alexander's driver, she glanced down at the screen. The notification came from an unknown, blocked number.

Unknown:

> Did you really think a billionaire’s money could make fifty thousand dollars vanish, little girl? You can hide behind his security, but a contract doesn't erase what your dead parents owe us.

>

Glory’s blood ran cold. The cup in her hand buckled, hot tea splashing over her fingers, but she barely felt it. Her eyes scanned the short text again and again. The loan sharks. They knew where she was. They knew about Alexander.

Before her trembling thumb could reply, a sharp, authoritative voice echoed down the corridor.

"Glory, isn't it?"

Glory snapped her head up. Walking toward her was a striking woman with razor-sharp blonde hair dressed in an impeccably tailored white trousersuit. Her high heels clicked with rhythmic precision against the marble floor. Behind her walked a man in a grey suit, holding an iPad, tapping away feverishly.

The woman stopped a few feet away, her piercing blue eyes sweeping over Glory’s casual jeans and oversized sweater with cool, dismissive evaluation.

"I'm Victoria Vance," the woman introduced herself, not bothering to offer a hand. "Senior Managing Partner at Vance & Sterling, and Alexander’s primary corporate legal counsel."

Glory straightened her spine, forcing her panicked hands into her pockets. "Can I help you?"

"That depends," Victoria said smoothly, her tone laced with low-key toxicity. "Alexander’s sudden public appearance with an unknown woman at the Vantage Gala raised quite a few red flags among the board of directors. As you can imagine, a man of his stature can not afford high-profile scandals—or sudden, erratic charity cases."

"I'm not a charity case," Glory said, her voice rising with defensive steel.

"No? You're an unpaid debt, a sick sister, and a high school graduate with zero social standing," Victoria replied coldly, taking a slow step closer. "I’ve run your background, Glory. I know about the foreclosure. I know about the predatory loan your late father signed. And I certainly know about the ludicrous contract Alexander had drawn up to keep you compliant."

Glory’s breath hitched. "Alexander told you?"

"Alexander didn't have to," Victoria sneered, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips. "I draft his non-disclosure agreements. I manage his risks. Right now, you are his biggest liability. His business rivals are already digging into who you are. If your family's dirty laundry—and your little arrangement—hits the press, it will destroy his upcoming merger."

Victoria reached into her designer handbag, pulled out a thick white envelope, and held it out.

"Inside is a cashier's check for one hundred thousand dollars," Victoria said, her tone dropping to an icy whisper. "Enough to transfer your sister to a facility in California and start over. Pack your things and leave before Alexander returns from Tokyo tonight. If you don't, I will personally release your family's financial ruin to the media, and those loan sharks will be the least of your worries."

Glory stared at the envelope, her heart pounding violently against her ribs. Trapped between loan sharks who knew her location, a high-society war she never asked to join, and the looming return of the man who held her heart in his hands, she felt the walls closing in.

Suddenly, Glory’s phone buzzed in her pocket again.

She pulled it out with numb fingers. A new text had arrived—not from the blocked number, and not from Victoria.

Alexander:

> I am landing in thirty minutes. Have David drive you back to the penthouse. We need to talk.

>

Glory looked up from the screen, meeting Victoria’s cold, expectant glare, her pulse hammering wildly in her throat. She had thirty minutes to make a choice that could destroy everything.