CHAPTER 5

Jason narrowed his eyes. “So what, then?”

Adler leaned in, elbows on the table. “I’m here to tell you we’re going to clean this up. Together.”

Jason let out a dry laugh. “I don’t remember signing up for—.”

“You didn’t. But you’re in it now,” Adler said, voice even. “We both are. That headline isn’t just about me— Your father’s name is in this too. We cannot afford anyone snooping around there.”

Jason went still.

Adler’s gaze was steady, cold fire behind it. “I’m not asking you to like me. I’m asking you to carry yourself properly.”

“Because right now, your name isn't just yours—it’s public.”

Jason opened his mouth but no words came. He just stared, swallowing down everything he couldn’t say.

“Put on something decent,” Adler said, standing almost immediately, not breaking stride. “You’re coming with me.”

Jason blinked. “To where?”

“PR brunch. You’re going to smile and remind the world we’re a family.”

The sarcasm in his voice should’ve landed like a jab, but Jason just stared, mouth slightly parted. Then, reluctantly, he got up.

****

The brunch venue was a rooftop garden overlooking the city—white linen tables, fresh tulips, glinting glasses of champagne. Everything about it screamed staged perfection.

Adler was in his element. Suited in charcoal grey, smile sharp enough to sell lies, he moved through the crowd like he had built the city beneath them.

Every billionaire’s wife leaned closer when he spoke. Cameras found him like he was the story.

There was no doubt— he wouldn’t just make a good senator. He would own the room doing it.

Jason stood a step behind, just close enough to be visible but fear enough not to disrupt the image. Ugh he hated how well Adler fit here.

And worse, how easily Adler’s gaze found him—through clinking glasses and polite laughter, his startling blue eyes always returned to Jason like a tether.

“You look like you want to jump off the edge,” Adler murmured as they stood side by side near the balcony, cameras clicking from a distance.

Jason’s jaw tensed. “Not before pushing you first.”

Adler smirked. “That would make you headline twice in one week. Think of your mother.”

Jason looked away. “I am.”

***

On the ride home, the air was heavy. Jason sat in the backseat, watching the city slide past the tinted windows. Adler sat beside him, unusually quiet. No Mason. No mum. Just the two of them.

He had not meant to stare. It started with his hands—Adler’s fingers tapping against his thigh like some part of him was less calm than he pretended to be.

They were beautiful hands. Veins tracing the back like quiet rivers. The kind that had never had to beg for anything. The kind that could ruin someone without leaving a mark.

Jason's throat went dry.

He looked away—then looked again.

And then Adler turned.

Not a glance. Not an accident.

A look. Direct. Holding.

It wasn’t a father’s gaze. Didn't feel like that.

Jason’s chest tightened. The space between them didn’t shift, but something in him did.

He looked away fast—like if he held it a second longer, it might brand him. Or worse, make him lean in.

God. Maybe if he looked at the different architecture sitting pretty on the streets his mind would relax better.

The city blurred past his window, glass towers, sun-washed streets— but Jason barely saw any of it. His mind kept circling back, loud and relentless, refusing to let him breathe.

Shortly after they reached home, he moved quietly to the backyard and sat alone, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.

He had lifted it from Ava’s stash when she was not looking.

His hands tightened around the lighter. It clicked once, then again, refusing to spark.

Maybe that's nature's way of telling him not to light a third one.

The breeze felt cold on his skin as the afternoon sun did nothing to warm him.

His hand trembled slightly, and he wasn’t sure if it was the nicotine or something else.

He kept replaying that moment in the car—no not the silence. The look.

It had made his heart slam once, hard enough to make him forget how to breathe.

He didn’t want to attach any significance to it. Nor sit with the realization that what he felt in that car was not disgust twisting in his stomach.

It was…want.

An undeniable want for the man his mother married.

And that was the kind of truth that didn't just terrify. It f***king wrecked you.