Shadows Of The Past

Jasper's Pov

The sound of her voice, cut through the room like a whip, sharp and unrelenting. Mia stood a few foot away, her arms crossed and blazing with defiance.

"I am not doing this anymore," her voice was firm. "I am not risking my life for you or your missions, Jasper."

I leaned back against the edge of my desk, my arms crossed as I studied her, her defiance was amusing —almost. And the fact, that I still find her suspicious made me flare up in anger.

"You don't have a choice Mia," I said firmly, my voice was cold and unyielding. "You are in this because I put you. I paid a fortune for and I expected a return on my investment." Actually, I don't mean any of my words but I'm determined to put her in her place. Her defiance unravelled me and equally gets me annoyed.

Her eyes widened for a while that I thought she might slap me. Maybe I deserve it afterall. Instead, she stepped closer, her voice shaking with barely restrained rage. "An investment? That's all I am to you? A pet you can throw money at and expect submission."

I smirked, though the fire in her eyes made something in me falter. "Don't mistake our arrangements for something, it is not. You don't get to walk away, Mia. Not now. Not ever."

Her lips trembled, but she didn't back. "We aren't equals, are we? Not even after—”

"After what," I interrupted, pushing off from the desk and closing the distance between us. "After we shared a bed? Don’t let that go to your head. It changes nothing. You’re still mine, Mia, and you’d do well to remember that.”

If she wanted to use the sex as leverage, it won't work. Didn't we both moan? And she had squirted, just as I did.

Her eyes flashed with a hint of anger, and something else—something that looked suspiciously like hurt. “You’re unbelievable,” she whispered. "You use people like pawns and when they are no longer valuable, you discard them."

“And yet, here you are, still standing in front of me. If you hated it so much, why haven’t you walked away?”

Her breath hitched, but she didn't answer me. Instead she glared at me, her eyes searching mine for something—an apology, maybe, or a hint of the man I had been with her that night. When she found nothing, she shook her head.

I stared down at her rosy trembling lips, and heat simmered within my body. She is a temptation, a distraction. Even in my anger, it took all within me not to claim her lips in mine. I already eye-fucked her, imagining the nasty things I would want to do to her all night.

"Get out," I turned my back at her. "Go back to your room before I do something you might regret."

"You are a monster, Jasper and that is why you would remain alone — even in death." Before I could turn to reply, she made her way outside and the door slammed shut behind her, leaving a suffocating silence in it's wake.

Alone.

The word lingered in the air with a bitter taste.

What did she know about being alone? I’d chosen this life—built it with my own two hands because I’d learned the hard way that trust was a luxury I couldn’t afford. The streets of Las Vegas had taught me that lesson well. Betrayal came easy, even from those closest to you.

I grabbed my coat and stormed out of the mansion. The suffocating walls of the study felt too much, and I needed to clear my head.

Mia's words refused to be drowned out by the hum of the engine as I drove to my penthouse. Her words clawed at me, daring me to acknowledge the truth. But I wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

I scoffed, shaking my head at the absurdity of her words. Alone? I thrive in solitude. Trust? It was a luxury I couldn't afford. Trust did killed my mentor — poisoned by his best friend and I won't let it destroy me.

I picked my phone and dialed Lisa. She is my go-to woman, anytime I needed to get distracted by a woman thighs. Our relationship was a perfect blend of satisfaction and convenience. No strings, no complications.

"Hey," she cooed, after answering on the third. "I thought I had been forgotten."

I ignored her words at playful banter and went straight to the point. "Meet me at my penthouse."

"Of course," she said, her voice ringing with excitement.

The women seemed to love me, although I had been careful of who to let in. I knew how to satisfy them, both in cash and in kind. A rare blend of charm and generosity, that’s what I offered. Not many men could claim to do both—and do it well.

When I stepped into the penthouse, I poured myself a drink, the whiskey burning itself down my throat. I leaned against the bar, my heart racing.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice I had a company until she spoke. "Rough night?"

I turned sharply. The woman standing there was unfamiliar—tall, blonde, and dressed in a mesh gown that put her breasts and ass on display. I eyed her down, feeling a twitch beneath.

But I quickly controlled myself. "Who are you?" I snapped.

She smiled, stepping closer. "Lisa couldn't make it, so I thought I'd fill in.

I frowned, the thoughts of having a strange woman in my bed didn't sit well with me. "Leave."

"Oh don't be like that," she added, brushing her hands slightly against my shoulders. "I just wanted to help you relax."

Every instinct in me screamed that something was wrong. "Leave, or I make you regret it," my voice was cold, but her smile didn't falter.

"Are you sure about that."

Before I could respond, she moved, a flash of steel catching my eye. I dodged just in time, the knife grazing my side instead of sinking into my chest.

I grabbed her wrist, twisting it until the blade fell off her hands, hitting the floor with a soft thud. "Who sent you?" I growled.

She smirked, unfazed. "Consider this a warning."

Before I could stop her, she twisted out of my grip and bolted for the door. I followed, but the pain in my side slowed me down. By the time I reached the hallway, she was gone.

I stumbled back into the suite, blood seeping through my fingers but I barely noticed. My gaze was fixed on the note left on the coffee table.

This is just the beginning.

And below it, had a name I hadn't seen in years: Mr Blake.

My world seems to tilt as the message had confirmed my speculations. I was right all along.

My father is alive.

And he wants me dead.