CHAPTER 8

JAYDEN’s POV

Surrounded by people whose names I couldn’t care enough to remember. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why they were here. Marcus had decided to throw another ridiculous party.

Two girls managed to push through the crowd, smiling and giggling, obviously trying to get on my good side. Zander walks into the cafeteria with Tristian and our eyes immediately meet. He looked at me the same way he always did— like everything about me repulsed him greatly.

“Fine by me. It wasn’t as if the feeling wasn’t mutual.” I thought to myself. Holding his gaze longer than necessary, I grabbed the girl from behind and kissed her. To others, it looked like I was enjoying my favorite meal but only I knew how it truly felt.

I felt absolutely nothing.

She kissed me back eagerly and just as I was about to pull away, already bored, my eye caught a sudden movement.

Marcus stretched out his foot just as Zander was about to walk past our table.

Zander stumbled forward. His tray containing his food fell from his hands, making the entire thing splatter across the floor with a very loud clatter causing the entire cafeteria to become as quiet as a graveyard.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Tristian snapped, stepping closer to Marcus.

Marcus laughed harder and I felt my jaw tighten.

I opened my mouth to say something but,

My phone vibrated.

Father.

The name on the screen was already enough to wipe every thought in my head. The irritation faded and was immediately replaced with something much darker.

For a second, I simply stared at the screen, feeling my expression already darken because I already knew the conversation wouldn’t end well.

The phone buzzed again.

Without another glance, I picked up my phone and walked away.

“Yes dad?” I picked the call

“The car is going to arrive in a few hours, get ready.” He said and ended the call without waiting to hear my response.

I let out a tired sigh and headed back towards the dorm, my mood already worse than it had been few minutes ago. By the time I reached the room, Zander was already on his laptop.

“You actually came back.”

He didn’t bother looking back.

Silence.

“What happened back there….” Zander didn’t say a word or even move an inch. I stopped talking and walked to my wardrobe because I couldn’t actually be bothered. I had important things to worry about.

“About the project…” He finally broke the silence.

I almost laughed. The damn project.

“We should decide who’s handling what before you leave for the party.”

My grip tightened around my zipper. For a split second, I could hear my father’s voice haunting and ringing in my head.

“Don’t embarrass me. Be home by tomorrow. You’re a bigger disappointment than your mother. Can’t you be more like your cousin?

The irritation I’d be trying to bury finally snapped.

“You’re the top student, aren’t you? I said without sparing him a glance. “Figure it out yourself since all the teachers can’t stop praising you.”

The room went quiet.

 “I’m leaving for the weekend.” I said as I tossed by bag over my shoulder.

Silence again.

When I finally looked at him, I froze.

Just for a second, it looked like the light left in his eyes dimmed. There were no tears, no anger, no irritation, it was something else.

It looked like my words…. hurt him?

Whatever it was immediately vanished so fast I convinced myself I’d imagined it. His expression changed back into something unreadable.

“Fine. Just leave.” He said quietly.

“Gladly.” Without another word, I walked out and shut the door behind me, telling myself I didn’t care and his words didn’t affect me.

So why the hell was I thinking about the look and why did it make me feel like shit?

The drive home was quiet. The closer we got to the estate, the tighter my grip became around my sides.  The massive iron gates slid open the moment they recognized the car.

What a fucking joke.

I stepped inside and was greeted by a maid.

“Welcome back, Sir.”

“Where is he?”

“Mr. Sinclair is still at the office.”

A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding escaped me because I couldn’t even handle exchanging words with him today.

“Good.”

I took my bag upstairs, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed onto my bed without bothering to unpack because this place didn’t make me feel any form of comfort. It just reminded me of all the bad memories I always tried to escape.

   The next day came so quickly,

Three knocks sounded through my room. I groaned, pulling a pillow over my head.

Another knock.

“Mr. Sinclair just called. He said you should be at the company before 9.”

Of course he was. I forced myself out of bed, threw on a suit, and headed downstairs. A black sedan was already waiting outside. The driver didn’t say a word and neither did I bother myself trying to initiate small talks.

The ride to the company felt longer than usual and when we finally arrived there, I was welcomed with glass walls, steel, power. Everything about the building screamed money. Heading for the top floor, I opened the boardroom and saw my father.

My dearest father didn’t even look at me.

“You’re late.”

I checked my watch and I wasn’t.

“Sit.” That was all he said to me.

Meeting after meeting blurred together. Acquisitions, reports, investments, partnerships, numbers, names, faces. Everyone acting like lifeless programmed dolls. This made me begin to have this fear growing inside me.

“Would I become like him when I take over the Empire?” This thought had me feeling sick to the core

Every now and then, his voice would cut through the room. “Jayden.” Every executive present would turn to look at me, waiting for my response.

“Your opinion.”

I answered.

Sometimes he nodded in agreement, other times, he was looking at me like I was a disappointment.  Saying things like, “Think before you speak.” Or “Is that the only thing you could come up with?”

By the end of the final meeting, my head was pounding and all I could think about was leaving.

I stood, ready to leave.

“Sit.”

“Oh, fuck me.” I said under my breath.

My father finally looked at me.

“You have another physical training now.”

“Leave.”

 The training building was outside the city, hidden behind high walls and security gates. I had never been here before.

I barely had time to change before the first punch came.

“Again.”

Another command.

“Faster.”

My lungs burned.

“Again.”

I hit the heavy bag until my knuckles split.

“Again.”

I was thrown onto the mat, forced back to my feet, then thrown down again.

By sunset, every muscle in my body screamed. A bruise had already started blooming across my ribs. I could barely close my fist. This felt like genuine torture and I wondered what business my father was truly doing that made him train me this way.

“You’ve gotten soft.” That was the first and only thing my father said to me before walking away.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror afterward, towel hanging low around my waist. The hot water stung every cut as it ran over my skin.

Purple bruises, split knuckles, swollen shoulder.

I looked at my self in the mirror for the first time since I had gotten home and I all I could see was a totally different person. He looked so tired and drained.

I pulled on a hoodie and grabbed my keys. I didn’t know where I was going. I just drove. When I stopped, a neon sign buzzed above the sidewalk.

“INK & STEEL TATTOO STUDIO.”

I stared at it for a long moment before a smirk grew on my face.

I walked into the studio and the artist glanced up as I walked in. “You got an appointment?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

He smiled faintly. “First tattoo?”

“Yeah.”

He gestured toward the chair and told me sit and think of what I wanted while he went to get his tools.

“What are we doing today?”

I looked down at my arm.

For the first time all weekend, the decision was mine.

“My left forearm.”

The machine buzzed to life and the needle began to dig into my skin.

It was a different type of hurt. It felt so good and it was at the moment I knew this wasn’t going to be the last tattoo I’d be getting.

For once…It was pain I’d chosen and that was what made this feel different.