Chapter 81 The promise
Jason’s POV
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, with the message I got from dad.
I grabbed it without opening my eyes, squinting at the bright screen in the darkness, I pushed the brown haired beauty by my side. She mumbled something as she faced the other side and continued her sleep.
I sat up immediately. Gavin didn’t send messages at three in the morning unless it was important.
I opened it.
The message was encrypted…one of those apps he’d made me install months ago for “family business.” I entered the code and waited for it to decrypt.
An address appeared. Troy Daniels’ apartment. Followed by a single line of instruction.
Make it hurt.A slow smile spread across my face.
Finally,
I’d been waiting for this. Watching that piece of shit circle around Melissa like a vulture, I tried to act blind to it because a warrior girl could handle herself. It didn't mean I didn’t investigate him from the first time I set my eyes on the miserable human. He was lucky Marcus got to him before me.
But why did Gavin ask me to go instead of handling it himself?
Well trying to understand my father would cause my brain to liquify out of my head. I’m just glad I get to handle this.
I threw off my covers and grabbed my clothes from the ground. Dark jeans. Black t-shirt. My leather jacket. And my boots.
I dressed quickly, my blood already pumping with anticipation.
This was going to be fun.
I kissed the girl before dropping a wad of cash by her side. She looked the closest to Malissa than all the girls my assistants have been bringing me recently.
I grabbed my helmet and keys and headed down to the garage.
My bike sat in the corner…a matte black Ducati that I’d customized myself.
I threw my leg over and started the engine. It roared to life, the sound echoing off the concrete walls.
Then I was out, tearing through the empty streets of Manhattan at three in the morning.
The city was different at this hour. Quieter. I took the turns fast, leaning into them, feeling the cold December air bite through my jacket.
Troy’s neighborhood was a shithole. Even at night, I could see how run-down it was. Graffiti on every surface. With broken windows. I parked my bike a block away and walked the rest, my boots heavy on the cracked pavement.
Third floor. Apartment 3C.
I took the stairs two at a time, my heart rate steady, my mind clear.
This was what I was good at. What I’d been trained for since I was old enough to throw a punch.
Violence.
I reached the door and knocked. Hard. Three sharp raps that echoed down the hallway.
“Who the fuck is it?” Troy’s voice, slurred and annoyed, sounded through the door.
I didn’t answer. Just knocked again. Harder.
I heard the sound of him grunting angrily and the sound of a chain being undone.
The door swung open.
Troy stood there in stained sweatpants and no shirt, his hair greasy, his eyes bloodshot. He looked even more pathetic in person than he had in the photos.
“What do you…” He stopped when he saw me, recognition flickering across his face. “You. You’re that rich kid.”
I smiled. “Good memory.”
Then I punched him in the face.
My fist connected with his nose with a satisfying crunch. Blood exploded across his face as he stumbled backward into his apartment.
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. Locked it.
“What the fuck!” Troy clutched his nose, blood pouring between his fingers. “What the fuck, man!”
“That’s for the video,” I said calmly.
I grabbed him by his greasy hair and slammed his face into the wall. Once. Twice. Three times.
He tried to fight back…threw a wild punch that I dodged easily. I drove my knee into his stomach and he doubled over, gasping.
“That’s for threatening her,” I said.
I kicked his legs out from under him and he went down hard, hitting the filthy floor with a thud that shook the walls.
He tried to crawl away. I stepped on his back, pinning him down with my boot.
“Let me tell you how this is going to work, Troy.” I crouched down, keeping my weight on him. “You’re going to delete every copy of that video. Every screenshot. Every backup. Everything. Understand?”
“Fuck you,” he spat, blood and saliva mixing on the floor.
Wrong answer.
I grabbed his arm…his right arm, the one he’d probably used to hurt Melissa…and twisted it behind his back.
“I said,” I pulled harder, feeling the joint strain, “do you understand?”
“Yes! Fuck! Yes, I understand!”
“Good.” I pulled harder still, past the point of pain, past the point of warning, until I felt the shoulder pop out of its socket with a wet click.
Troy screamed.
I let go and stood up, looking down at him writhing on the floor.
“That’s for touching her without permission,” I said.
He was crying now, clutching his dislocated shoulder, curled up in a ball like the pathetic worm he was.
I walked around him slowly, letting him see me, letting the fear build.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I said, my voice conversational. “You’re going to forget Melissa exists. You’re going to delete that video. You’re going to disappear from her life so completely that she forgets you ever existed.”
“Okay,” he sobbed. “Okay, I’ll do it. Just leave me alone.”
“I’m not finished.” I crouched down again, getting close to his face. “If I ever…and I mean EVER…see you near her again, I will kill you. Not hurt you. Not scare you. Kill you. Do you believe me?”
He looked into my eyes and whatever he saw there made him go pale.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Say it.”
“I believe you.”
“Good boy.” I stood up and wiped my hands on my jeans. “Now delete the video. Right now. While I watch.”
He crawled to his phone with his good arm, whimpering with every movement. His shoulder hung at an unnatural angle, already starting to swell.
He opened his phone with shaking fingers and pulled up his photos. I watched as he deleted the video. Then checked his cloud storage. Made him delete it there too. Then his email. His hidden folders.
Every copy. Gone.
“There,” he gasped. “It’s gone. All of it.”
I took his phone and checked for myself. He wasn’t lying.
Good.
I dropped the phone on his chest.
“Remember what I said, Troy. Stay away from Melissa. Stay away from my family. Or next time, it won’t be just your shoulder.”
I walked to the door, unlocked it, and paused with my hand on the handle.
“Oh, and Troy? Merry Christmas.”
Then I left, closing the door on his sobbing.
I walked down the stairs calmly, my hands steady, my heart rate normal.
That felt good. Really good. Watching my dad and Melissa kiss burnt a hole into my heart . The thought of using it against him crossed my mind but he sent me as a warning. I wasn’t that dumb not to understand. I couldn’t do shit about it, but punching Troy was a good way to expel my anger.
I got back on my bike and started the engine, the roar echoing through the empty streets.
As I rode back toward the penthouse, the city starting to wake up around me, I pulled out my phone at a red light and sent a message to Dad.
It’s done. He won’t be a problem anymore.
The light turned green.
I twisted the throttle and disappeared into the dawn. Since my dad has officially issued a challenge I’ll fight to make Melissa mine.