Chapter 122
Jace had noticed it gradually, the way Morgan’s presence began to settle into the house like a soft heat. It was not too loud or demanding. Just quietly everywhere.
At first, Jace tried to ignore it, to pretend it was only gratitude he felt when Morgan carried Mila on his shoulders, or gently teased her until she laughed the way she used to. He told himself it was nothing when her arms wrapped around Morgan’s neck easily, as if she trusted him without hesitation. He remembered the first time that Morgan was hired Mila would not even look his way, now here she was laughing uncontrollably.
He told himself not to pay attention but he had always been terrible at not feeling things.
Especially now.
Especially when he was trying so hard to stay numb.
The shift began small—Morgan standing closer than necessary in the kitchen, brushing past him subtly, lingering at the doorway with a warmth in his eyes that Jace pretended not to notice. Morgan had always been attentive, but now his attention had shape, it had intent. His voice dropped softer when he spoke to Jace, his hands slowed when they reached for him, as if testing boundaries, waiting for Jace to push him away or pull him closer.
Jace did neither.
And that was the problem.
Morgan continued with the quiet romance he had promised to slow down. He no longer brought flowers every day anymore… but every now and then, a folded sketch appeared under Jace’s mug, or a soft compliment slipped through in the middle of an ordinary conversation.
“Your smile came back a little today,” Morgan murmured once. “I missed it.”
Jace pretended not to hear him. Pretended his chest did not squeeze painfully.
He was not ready for this.
And yet… Morgan did not back away from caregiving. He became Mila’s safe place faster than Jace had expected.
She giggled when Morgan lifted her high.
She clung to his neck when she was tired.
She ran to him sometimes before running to Jace.
The first time it happened, it pierced something in Jace that he did not know how to react to. It hurt, yes but not because he felt replaced. It hurt because Mila was smiling again.
She had not smiled like that since before everything started falling apart.
And the part of Jace that wanted to protect her, wanted to shield her from every sharp edge in the world softened whenever she ran into Morgan’s arms.
Morgan made her laugh.
Morgan made her feel safe.
Morgan made her feel like the world was not crumbling under her tiny feet.
And watching that...
It did something to Jace he was not ready to admit.
Some evenings, Morgan would sit on the couch with Mila curled against him, reading her a story while she giggled at his voices. Jace would stand in the hallway, pretending to scroll through his phone, listening to Mila’s laughter echo through the house like sunlight.
It was impossible not to feel touched.
Impossible not to feel something shift, slowly, in the forgotten parts of his chest.
But then, just when warmth began to settle into his bones again, just when he allowed a small portion of trust to peek through— fear would strike like cold water.
He would remember the recording.
The violation.
The way Justin had somehow gotten footage of him and Morgan in bed and sent it to Elias.
Elias.
God.
Jace did not let himself imagine Elias watching it.
He did not let himself imagine Elias’s eyes going sharp with hurt.
Or the way his expression must have collapsed quietly in a way only Jace would recognise.
Thinking about that moment made the guilt squeeze his lungs too tight to breathe.
But amid that guilt, there was also something else..... Confusion.
Because the recording did not look handheld.
It was not shaky or grainy and no one had been in the room with them.
The angle.... it looked like a stationary camera.
A hidden one.
Somewhere in his room.
Jace had tried not to think about it. Tried to push it down. But every day, when Morgan offered him something soft, patience and safety the fear clawed right back up again.
What if Morgan had lied?
What if he had set the camera?
No. Jace shook the thought away every time.
No.....it did not feel like him.
Morgan did not seem like that kind of cruel. He was not cunning in that way. He was not....he did not even seem aware of the angles Justin used.
So if it was not Morgan…Then who?
And how long had they been watching him?
One night, after Mila had fallen asleep and Morgan had gone downstairs, Jace felt the weight of suspicion pressing too hard against his ribs.
He could no longer ignore it anymore.
He walked into his room.
Closed the door softly.
Locked it.
Then he stood in the center, scanning the space.
His room was neat, sterile almost, except for the blankets and sweaters he had left scattered across the chair and bed. Everything looked ordinary. But his skin prickled.
Something was wrong.
Something was off.
He went to the bookshelf first, running his hands along the spines, tugging, shifting things out of place. Then the lamps.....The drawers.....The closet..... The bathroom cabinet..... Beneath the bed.....The edges of picture frames.
Nothing.
But he could feel it, feel the wrongness.
Feel the violation.
He started tearing things apart then, no longer careful or methodical.
He stripped the bed.
Threw pillows to the floor.
Pulled every drawer out and dumped its contents.
Checked under the mattress, behind sockets, inside the vents.
His breathing grew faster.....Shallow.....Angry.
Who had watched him?
Who had installed something in this room....his room?
Who had known enough to tape him at his weakest and send it straight to Justin so he could perfectly time it to break him?
He knocked over a lamp in frustration. It fell with a crash, shards scattering.
Still nothing.
He wanted to scream.
He moved to the last place, behind the long, floor-length mirror near the window. He dragged it away from the wall, his heartbeat stuttering as dust puffed into the air.
Then he froze.
Because there it was, tucked into the drywall behind the mirror, a small black device.
A tiny camera.
Almost invisible unless someone tore the room apart exactly like this.
Jace’s stomach dropped.
His legs felt hollow.
His throat tightened.
His heart hammered against his ribs so violently that his vision swayed.
He reached out with trembling fingers, plucked it from the wall, stared at it like it might burn him.
It was real.
He was not imagining it.
Someone had put this here.
Someone had been watching him.
Someone had recorded him.
Someone had sent it to Justin.
His hands shook harder.
A cold wave swept through his body, chilling every inch of him.
Who?
Who had been inside his room?
Who had gotten close enough to install something so small, so concealed, so deliberate?
His mind raced.
Was this connected to the person he saw spying at him days ago?
The one who had been watching him through the door in the shadows?
A stalker?
A spy?
Someone hired?
He swallowed hard, panic prickling up his spine.
Had they put cameras elsewhere?
His skin crawled with the sudden fear that his entire home was not his home anymore. That nothing was private. Nothing was safe.
He sank onto the edge of the bed, breathing hard.
He remembered Mila sleeping across the hall. Was there one there too?
He remembered Morgan downstairs.
He remembered the recording sent to Elias like a weapon.
A weapon meant to destroy him.
A weapon meant to destroy what little remained of the love he and Elias had built.
Who would do that?
Justin?
Yes,Justin had sent it. But had he installed the camera? Had he hired someone? Had he used a moment when Jace was not home?
Jace closed his eyes, the dread settling deep.