Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Cracks in the Mask

Alexia

The dim light from the overhead bulb flickered, casting fleeting shadows across the damp walls of my cell. I stared at the steel door, my mind a whirlpool of confusion and despair. Each second dragged into an eternity, the silence broken only by the occasional drip of water from a leaky pipe.

I had tried not to think about Jayden—about his piercing gaze, his relentless accusations, or the strange way his presence filled the room. But it was impossible to block him out entirely. He was my captor, my tormentor, and yet, there was something about him that I couldn’t quite place.

I wrapped the thin blanket around me, trying to ward off the cold. Just as I started to doze off, the door creaked open, and I jerked upright. Jayden stepped inside, his expression unreadable.

“Get up,” he said, his voice a mix of steel and fire.

I narrowed my eyes at him, my instincts screaming to fight back. “What now? Another round of baseless accusations?”

Jayden smirked, but there was no humor in it. “You talk a lot for someone in your position. Let’s go.”

When I didn’t move, he strode over, yanked me to my feet, and half-dragged me out of the cell. His grip was firm but not painful, and I hated how my skin tingled where his fingers brushed against mine.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded, struggling against him.

“You’ll see,” he replied curtly, his tone giving nothing away.

---

Jayden

I led her through the dimly lit corridors, her defiance clawing at my patience. She was a puzzle I couldn’t solve, her every word and action challenging everything I thought I knew about Bob Damon’s bloodline.

I pushed open a door and ushered her into a larger room. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was a step up from her cell—a small table, two chairs, and a single lamp casting a warm glow.

“Sit,” I commanded, pointing to one of the chairs.

She hesitated, her eyes darting around the room like a cornered animal. Finally, she sat, her posture stiff and unyielding.

“What’s this about?” she asked, her voice sharp.

I sat across from her, leaning forward with my elbows on the table. “This is your chance to prove your innocence.”

Her brows furrowed. “I’ve already told you the truth. What more do you want?”

I pulled a folder from beneath the table and opened it, revealing photos, documents, and maps. I slid one of the photos toward her—a grainy image of her father shaking hands with Don Alfredo.

“Explain this,” I said.

She stared at the photo, her face pale. “I don’t know what this is. I’ve never seen it before.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped, slamming my hand on the table.

She flinched but quickly regained her composure. “I’m not lying. I don’t know anything about this.”

Her voice cracked, and for a moment, I thought I saw tears glistening in her eyes. I wanted to believe her, but I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.

“Your father was involved in a drug trade that destroyed countless lives,” I said, my voice cold. “He worked with Don Alfredo to smuggle weapons, drugs, and people. And when things went south, he disappeared, leaving others to clean up his mess.”

Her lips trembled, and she shook her head. “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know.”

“Why should I believe you?” I challenged.

She looked up at me, her eyes blazing with fury and desperation. “Because it’s the truth. Do you think I would defend a man who abandoned me and my mother? A man who cared more about his empire than his family? I hated him, Jayden. I hated him for what he did to us.”

Her words struck a chord deep within me, and for a moment, I faltered. Could she really be as innocent as she claimed?

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. “Hate doesn’t absolve you of guilt.”

“And your hatred doesn’t make you right,” she shot back, her voice trembling with emotion.

---

Alexia

The tension in the room was suffocating. I clenched my fists under the table, fighting the urge to scream. I had nothing to do with my father’s crimes, but Jayden refused to see reason.

“Tell me something,” I said, my voice low. “What do you hope to accomplish by keeping me here? Revenge? Justice? Or are you just trying to ease your own pain?”

Jayden’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. “This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?” I pressed. “You’re so consumed by your hatred for my father that you can’t see the truth staring you in the face. I’m not your enemy, Jayden. But you’re determined to make me one.”

His hands balled into fists on the table, and for a moment, I thought he might explode. Instead, he stood abruptly, knocking his chair back.

“This conversation is over,” he said, his voice like ice.

Before I could respond, he stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

---

Jayden

Her words echoed in my mind as I paced my office, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. She had no right to challenge me, to question my motives.

And yet…

She wasn’t wrong.

I poured myself a drink, the whiskey burning as it slid down my throat. This wasn’t how I’d planned things. I was supposed to break her, to make her confess, to use her as a weapon against her father.

But instead, she was breaking me.

I slammed the glass down on the desk, the sound shattering the silence. I couldn’t let this happen. I wouldn’t.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to the wall where a photo of my family hung. My parents’ smiling faces stared back at me, a painful reminder of everything I’d lost.

“I’m doing this for you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

But even as I said the words, I couldn’t shake the doubt creeping into my mind.

---

Alexia

I was escorted back to my cell by Vicker, who avoided meeting my eyes. The silence between us was heavy, but I didn’t have the energy to break it.

Once inside, I collapsed onto the cot, my body and mind utterly exhausted. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the memories of the confrontation with Jayden.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

Instead, I found myself replaying every word, every look, every moment. There was something in Jayden’s eyes, a flicker of vulnerability, that made me question everything I thought I knew about him.

Was he truly the monster I believed him to be? Or was he just another victim of my father’s sins?

As the hours dragged on, one thought consumed me: I had to find a way to reach him. To make him see the truth.

Because if I didn’t, I feared I might never escape this nightmare.

I lay on the cot, staring up at the ceiling, exhaustion weighing down my body, but my mind refused to rest. Every encounter with Jayden left me shaken—not just because of his accusations, but because of the way he looked at me, the way his eyes darkened when he spoke about my father, the way his fists clenched when I challenged him.

He was torn between punishing me and believing me.

I turned onto my side, my fingers tracing invisible patterns on the thin blanket. If I wanted to survive this, I needed to make him see the truth. But how?

The lock on the steel door clicked, and my body tensed. I sat up just as the door swung open, revealing Jayden. His silhouette was imposing against the dim light from the hallway, his gaze unreadable.

"Get up," he ordered.

I hesitated. "Why?"

His lips pressed into a thin line, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Do you want to keep rotting in here, or do you want a chance to prove you're not lying?"

A flicker of hope sparked in my chest, but I quickly buried it. This could be another game. Another test. Still, I had no choice. I rose to my feet, my heart pounding.

Jayden stepped aside, motioning for me to follow. "Let's see if you're as innocent as you claim."

I swallowed hard and walked past him, fully aware that whatever came next could either save me… or destroy me completely.