Chapter 122 — Who Holds the Leash
Vivian’s mouth was still open in shock when our eyes locked. The shock froze her in place, like her body couldn’t decide whether to scream or run.
The phone slipped fully from her hand now, landing face down on the floor. She took one step back. Then another.
I didn’t rush her. Fear worked better when it had room to breathe.
I stepped into her room slowly, my gaze never leaving her face. She kept retreating until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. Her breathing was shallow, uneven.
The confident woman who strutted around this mansion was gone. What stood in front of me now was someone exposed.
Vulnerable.
I stared at her a little longer before I turned and closed the door.
The soft click echoed louder than a gunshot.
“What…” Her voice trembled despite her effort to sound composed. “Why did you do that?”
I tilted my head. “Do what?”
“You hid your number,” she snapped, forcing anger into her tone. “You called me pretending to be the blackmailer. Why would you do something like that?”
I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head slowly. “I thought this was the part where you start begging me not to tell Edward what you did.”
I paused, then added lightly, “Guess I read the room wrong.”
Her fear shifted. It turned into fury.
Her shoulders straightened. Her eyes hardened. She took a step towards me now, chin lifted in defiance.
“How dare you?” she hissed. “Do you think I’m afraid of you, Jasper? Do you really think I would get on my knees and beg you?”
She scoffed. “Who do you think you are?”
I felt it then. That sharp, hot spark of anger. My smile faded.
Slowly, deliberately, I walked toward her. Each step was unhurried, controlled. I watched her confidence crumble with every inch of space I closed between us.
“You think I’m here to play?” I asked quietly.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
I stopped inches away from her.
“Let me make something very clear,” I said, my voice low and deadly. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”
I raised my phone and shoved it in front of her face.
Her breath caught instantly. The color drained from her skin.
The picture on my screen was clear–too clear. Her father–sitting at a restaurant table. Another angle. Another photo. Different moments.
Her hands started shaking.
“Why… Why do you have pictures of my father?” she whispered.
I leaned closer, my voice brushing her ear. “Because all it takes is one order from me… and a bullet goes straight through his skull.”
Her knees buckled. She could barely stay upright.
“What do you want?” she cried. “Please, just tell me what you want.”
I straightened, studying her carefully.
“I know you’re responsible for the attack on the Thorne mansion,” I said calmly. “So I’ll ask you directly–are you also responsible for the attack that happened in my mansion?”
Her head snapped up. “No.”
The answer came too fast. Too sharp.
I watched her face closely. Her fear was real. The denial wasn’t rehearsed, she was telling the truth.
“Then explain something to me,” I said. “How is it that the same rogues were involved in both attacks?”
She opened her mouth. Then closed it almost immediately. Silence.
I raised my phone again.
Her eyes darted to it instantly. “It wasn’t me!” she cried. “I didn’t send them to your mansion!”
“Then who did?” I asked.
I stepped closer. “Are you protecting Damien?”
Her eyes widened. Pure shock.
I’m sure she wondered how I knew so much.
I leaned in, my voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her. “I know more than you think.”
Her breathing turned erratic.
“I will only ask this once,” I said coldly. “For your own good, make sure you give me the correct answer.”
I paused.
“Did Damien send those rogues to attack my mansion?”
She stared at me for a long moment, searching my face, weighing her choices.
Then she broke.
“Yes,” she whispered.
The word barely left her mouth.
“I’m not completely sure,” she added quickly, tears filling her eyes. “But I think it was Damien.”
My chest tightened.
So it was true. Damien.
I nodded slowly. “Why did you send the rogues to the Thorne mansion in the first place?”
She wiped her face angrily. “I wanted them to scare Elara. I wanted her to stay away from Edward.” she said. “I didn’t want her dead. I never thought it would go that far.”
Her voice cracked. “After the attack failed, I refused to pay them. I couldn’t even pay their money in full if I wanted. That’s when they started threatening me.
That’s when I called Damien for help.”
I absorbed every word.
Then I spoke.
“Let’s set something straight,” I said calmly. “I know you wanted Elara gone. Maybe not dead–but gone.”
She flinched.
“But from now on,” I continued, “Elara is under my protection.”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“Because she’s useful to me,” I said simply.
I turned toward the door. “You’re going to help me separate Elara and Edward.”
Her lips parted. “And if I don’t?”
I glanced back at her. “Then Edward finds out everything.”
She nodded quickly. “I’ll do it.”
“But Edward already asked me to leave the mansion,” she said urgently. “He told me to pack.”
“Then come up with an excuse,” I replied. “You’re good at that.”
I reached the door, my hand on the handle.
Then I turned back one last time.
“Make sure Damien doesn’t know about our little conversation,” I said quietly. “And remember–if you do anything stupid… don’t blame me for what happens next.”
I opened the door and walked out.
Behind me, the door shut softly.
I didn’t look back.
Moments later, muffled through the door, I heard her frantic voice on the phone.
Calling her father.
I kept walking.
The board was set.
And everyone was exactly where I wanted them.