Chapter 333
Jaxx’s Point Of View
Graham’s body jerked beneath my knee like an eel caught on a line, thrashing with diminishing strength. The gravel beneath his face transformed into muddy, dark porridge… a mixture of dirt and blood spreading across the white stones. His fingers clawed desperately at the ground until his nails split, leaving crimson trails in their wake.
“Let… let me up, Jaxx,” he wheezed, his voice rattling in his throat, completely stripped of that high-and-mighty Sinclair weight he loved to carry around like a crown. The arrogance had drained from him along with his blood. “You’ve… you’ve had your fun. You’ve made your point.” He gasped for air, each breath a struggle against the pressure of my knee. “My father will have the police tracing this car by morning p>
I didn’t answer him right away. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken threats and the promise of violence. I just stared down at the silver hilt of the pocket knife in my palm, my thumb slowly tracing the smooth metal casing, feeling every groove and edge. The weight of it felt familiar, comfortable… too comfortable.
My heart thumped against my ribs… not fast, but incredibly heavy, like an iron piston driving into my chest wall. I was trying so hard to hold myself back. I really, truly was. Every single muscle in my bare chest locked so tight it ached, the tension radiating down my arms and into my clenched fists. The cool morning breeze hit my skin and did absolutely nothing to extinguish the fire burning under my collarbone, that white-hot rage demanding satisfaction.
I didn’t want this to turn into a complete slaughter. Not out here. Not on her driveway, where she’d have to see the stain every time she came home. The thought of Elena’s face, pale with horror, stopped me cold. Elena’s front door still hung wide open, the splintered wood dangling off the top hinge like a broken limb, a testament to Graham’s violent intrusion.
I didn’t want the smell of a fresh corpse floating through her foyer, seeping into the walls and furniture. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved safety, peace, a home that felt like a sanctuary instead of a crime scene. She deserved better than what my world could offer her.
But he touched her.
The words kept ringing inside my skull, a loud, distorted, rhythmic thud that sounded exactly like a siren wailing through my consciousness. He touched her. He pinned her down. He tried to tear that towel off her body. The image of it… of his hands on her skin, of her fear, made my vision blur red at the edges. Each repetition of the thought sent a fresh wave of fury crashing through me.
Every time the loop completed, my fingers would twitch involuntarily, the tip of the blade dipping a millimeter closer to the soft, pulsing skin right under Graham’s jawline. I could feel his pulse against my knee, that rapid, terrified beat. I could do it so easily. One quick, smooth motion and the Sinclair legacy would be bleeding out into the weeds, fertilizing the expensive landscaping with entitled blood.
But I forced it down. I ground my back teeth together until my jaw clicked, the sound sharp in my ears, forcing the red mist back behind my eyes where it belonged. I wouldn’t kill him today. Not because he deserved mercy… he didn’t, but because Elena deserved better than to have his death on her property, in her memory. The restraint cost me something vital, something I’d have to reckon with later.
But I would give him something to remember… a permanent reminder to look up at every single time he tried to stand up straight for the rest of his miserable life. A souvenir of what happened when you touched what was mine.
“Your father isn’t calling anyone, Graham,” I murmured, my voice smooth, totally devoid of the rage currently trying to eat me alive from the inside out. I leaned down a little lower, my bare chest almost brushing his rumpled suit jacket, letting him feel the heat radiating off my skin. The intimacy of the position was deliberate, threatening.
“Because if Sebastian Sinclair opens his mouth to the cops, the first thing I do is release that flash drive sitting in my dashboard. The one with your family’s offshore routing numbers, shell companies, the whole beautiful mess.” I paused, letting the words sink in, watching his eyes widen with recognition. “You think your name can survive a federal tax evasion audit? Try me p>
Graham’s head gave a weak, pathetic little shake against the gravel, disturbing the bloody mud beneath his cheek. “You… you think you’re so smart… you’re just p>
The sharp, heavy crunch of gravel cut him off mid-sentence.
A sleek black SUV came roaring around the bend of the estate road, its tires screeching as it swung sideways, parking parallel to my Mercedes with practiced precision. The driver’s side door flung open immediately, and Roman stepped out onto the stones, his massive frame unfolding from the vehicle like a force of nature.
He took one look at me standing there shirtless, covered in a light sheen of sweat and another man’s blood, then looked down at Graham’s weeping, bleeding form sprawled beneath me. He didn’t even blink. His expression remained neutral… he’d seen worse, done worse, and we both knew it. He just removed the unlit cigarette from his mouth and tucked it behind his ear with casual efficiency.
“Well,” Roman said, his voice a dry, gravelly bark as he walked over, his heavy leather boots clicking against the stones in a steady rhythm, “looks like the fifteen-minute timer didn’t go according to plan, boss p>
I didn’t smile. The situation wasn’t amusing, just necessary. A grim satisfaction settled in my chest, but nothing close to joy. I stood up slowly, deliberately, shifting my boot off Graham’s shoulder blade and watching him gasp in relief, the sound wet and desperate. With a casual, careless kick of my heel, I flung Graham sideways across the driveway, letting him roll over like a sack of wet cement, his limbs flopping uselessly.
“Take care of him,” I told Roman, my voice flat, cold, and heavy with authority. “When you’re completely done cleaning up this mess, take him straight to the Sinclair Estate. Throw him on their front lawn like the garbage he is. Let the old man see exactly what his golden boy looks like when he leaves his territory and forgets his place p>
Roman looked down at Graham, who was currently clutching his thigh and letting out a long, wet groan that bordered on pathetic. The sound would have made me laugh under different circumstances. “And the message p>
“Tell them it’s a warning,” I hissed, my eyes narrowing into two dark, lethal slits as I stared at the back of Graham’s head, imagining Sebastian Sinclair’s face when he saw his son. The old bastard would understand. “The very next time I see his car, his face, or even his name anywhere close to Elena… I won’t be sending him back in the back seat of your car. I’ll be sending him to them in a body bag, piece by piece if necessary. Make sure Sebastian understands every single syllable of that sentence. Make sure he knows I don’t make empty threats p>
Roman nodded once, his expression turning completely stone-cold, all business now. Years of working together had taught him when I meant every word. “Consider it done, Jaxx. What about his car?” He pointed a thick finger toward Graham’s pristine silver sedan parked a few yards away, its paint gleaming mockingly in the morning sun.
“Send one of the men down here to drive his car out of here immediately,” I snapped, my hand gripping the knife tighter, knuckles whitening. “I don’t want a single piece of evidence that he was ever breathing the air on this property. Not a tire track, not a bloodstain, nothing p>
“On it,” Roman said. He reached down, grabbing Graham by the back of his ruined collar with one hand like he was handling a stray dog that had wandered into the wrong yard. He dragged him up to his feet, ignoring the sharp, pathetic shriek Graham let out as his stabbed thigh gave way beneath his weight.
Roman pulled a thick roll of industrial zip-ties from his back pocket, secured Graham’s wrists behind his back with two loud, sharp clicks that echoed across the driveway, and hoisted him into the back seat of the SUV with practiced efficiency. Graham’s whimpers faded into muffled sobs.
Before Roman slid into the driver’s seat, he paused, looking over the roof of the car at me with concern flickering in his eyes. “You need me to leave a couple of guys at the gate, boss? Just in case the old man gets brave and decides to retaliate p>
“No,” I said, my jaw clenching as I looked back toward the open door of the condo, thinking of Elena inside, alone and terrified. My chest tightened at the thought of her fear. “If anyone else comes through those gates, I’ll handle them myself. Just get him out of my sight before I change my mind about letting him live p>