Chapter 67 In Danger
Jack's pov
I was halfway down the stairs when I heard a sharp metallic crash.
I froze, and for one insane second, hope flared in my chest.
“Elena?” I called out, my voice echoing faintly through the house.
There was no response.
“Elena,” I tried again. “If you’re here, we need to talk.”
Still nothing.
Then I heard a scraping noise like something dragging lightly against a wood. The sound came from Elena’s bedroom.
“Elena?” I called one more time, but there was still no answer.
The door to her bedroom was slightly ajar, and as I approached slowly, my curiosity heightened. Then I heard a sudden clatter from inside the room.
I stepped closer and pushed the door open. I barely had time to register movement before something flashed toward my face.
It was a small blade that sliced through the air where my head had been a second earlier.
I jerked back instinctively, stumbling over my own footing as the knife whistled past and embedded into the wall behind me with a dull thud.
“Shit—”
I lost my balance and fell backward onto one knee, my breath was knocked halfway out of me and by the time I looked up, a man was stepping out of the room.
He was shorter and looked older than me. He wore an old worn-out hat that cast a shadow over his eyes.
I instantly recognized him. “Marcus Trent,” I said, my voice going cold.
He gave me a slow, almost amused smile.
“Well,” he drawled, adjusting the brim of his hat, “if it isn’t the new partner of Vale Corp.”
My stomach twisted at that.
“What the hell are you doing in this house?” I demanded, pushing myself fully to my feet.
He glanced casually over his shoulder, as if admiring the room behind him.
“Looking around,” he said lightly. “And basically seeing what’s worth seeing.”
I took a step forward. “You broke in.”
He shrugged. “Such an ugly word for description.”
My hands curled into fists at my sides.
“I'll have to say you picked the wrong house,” I said quietly.
His smile widened slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I don’t think so,” he replied. “This house? This is exactly the right one.”
He's been Conrad’s long-time ally. The kind of man who never dirtied his own hands publicly but was always somehow present when things went wrong behind closed curtains.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said.
“Maybe,” he answered calmly. “But then again… neither should you.”
The implication hung heavy between us.
“You’ve got nerve,” I muttered.
He tilted his head slightly. “I could say the same about you partnering with Conrad. That's quite a bold move.”
“I take it that you’re not here to congratulate me.” I furrowed my brows.
He chuckled under his breath. “No.”
The house suddenly felt like a stage, more like I had walked into a scene that had been set before I arrived.
“Where is she?” I asked sharply.
His expression flickered barely. “She's not here,” he said.
Relief and anger collided inside me at once.
“If you’ve touched her—” I started.
He raised a hand lazily. “Relax. If I’d touched her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”
I didn’t like the way he said that.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
Then he took a slow step closer into the hallway light, studying me with curiosity.
“I wanted to see something for myself,” he said casually.
“See what?”
He gave me a thin smile. “How far you’re willing to go.”
My blood ran cold but I didn’t respond.
He just glanced at the knife lodged in the wall behind me.
“You’ve still got decent reflexes,” he remarked casually.
“Try that again,” I said evenly, “I dare you.”
For a moment, the air between us felt razor-thin before he gave a soft laugh.
“No need for theatrics,” he said. “I was just… testing the temperature.”
“This isn’t a game,” I snapped.
He looked at me carefully like he was measuring something invisible.
“Oh, it absolutely is,” he replied. “You just don’t know the rules yet.”
“What did Conrad send you here for?” I asked.
Marcus didn’t answer directly. Instead, he gave me one look before speaking.
“You’ve taken a seat at a very interesting table, Jack,” he said quietly. “Let’s see if you survive it.”
Then the air between us snapped.
I don’t even remember who moved first. One second we were standing there, circling each other with words and the next, Marcus lunged.
He wasn’t really fast but he was unpredictable. He was the kind of man who didn’t mind getting hurt if it meant dragging you down with him.
He reached for another blade tucked somewhere in that worn coat of his. But I saw the glint too late as we collided hard.
My shoulder slammed into his chest, and we crashed against the hallway wall. The impact rattled a framed photo off its hook and the glass shattered somewhere near our feet.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” I growled, grabbing his wrist before the knife could fully angle toward me.
He only laughed. “You think this is about you?” he spat.
“What do you want from her?” I snapped, tightening my grip until I felt his bones strain under my fingers. “What the hell do you want from Elena?”
His grin stretched maniacally wide. “Me?” he said mockingly. “I don’t want anything.”
The blade trembled between us as we struggled for control.
“Then why are you here?” I demanded.
He just tilted his head slightly, his eyes glittering. “Just doing Conrad a favor.”
Rage shot through me so fast it blurred my vision. “What favor?” I barked.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “Just cleaning up loose ends.”
Something in my chest went cold and that made me twist his wrist harder.
He hissed and his grip loosened just enough for me to wrench the knife free. The blade clattered once in my hand before I turned it and shoved him back against the wall.
The metal pressed against the fabric of his coat, right over his chest.
My breathing became ragged. “Did Conrad send you?” I demanded.
Marcus stared at the knife before his gaze settled on me.
He started laughing again, but this time it was loud.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he wheezed.
“Answer me!” I roared, pressing the blade closer. “Did he send you?”
His laughter only grew louder. “You think he needs to?” he choked out between breaths.
My grip faltered slightly and he took the opportunity to shove me forward, suddenly knocking my arm off balance. The knife sliced harmlessly through the air as he staggered sideways, knocking into a console table and sending it crashing over.
"Fuck!” I lunged, but he was already moving.
For a stocky man, he was quick when he wanted to be. He instantly bolted down the hallway.
“Marcus!” I shouted, chasing him.
He turned halfway with a twisted grin. “Congratulations on the partnership!” he called mockingly. “Let’s see how long you keep it!”
The front door slammed seconds later as he ran.
I stood there with a heaving chest and the knife was still in my hand. I wanted to go after him but my feet wouldn't budge.
That was when my hand slowly lowered as the realization hit me like a poisonous punch.
I had made a deal with Conrad thinking I was getting ahead of him, thinking if I stood at his side, I could redirect whatever threat was forming around Elena.
Not to mention the fact that I thought becoming partner meant control and leverage.
But Marcus being here without Conrad even bothering to mask it properly, meant that he'd intended to hurt Elena. I was only a means to finish her off entirely.
My grip on the knife loosened until it slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a dull metallic sound. I did everything to protect her but—
“He was never going to stop,” I muttered to myself.
The realization hit me further:
It didn’t matter that I agreed to the partnership.
It didn’t matter that I helped remove her from the CEO seat.
It didn’t matter that I sacrificed our marriage thinking I was shielding her.
Conrad would still try to get rid of her one way or another.
How did I not see through his manipulation?
I dragged a hand down my face, pacing slowly back into t he hallway.
“You idiot,” I muttered at myself.
And here, I thought I was playing defense but I had only just cleared the field for him.
Elena’s face flashed in my mind again—she was in danger.