Jasper Maddox
Damian still looked at me like I was his sword arm—sharp, loyal, silent. That was the thing about being close: the closer you were to the throne, the easier it was to poison the king.
He trusted me.
Not fully. Not in the way you trust someone with your soul. But enough to let me stand beside him when the knives were out and Monarch was crumbling at the edges.
And that was the most dangerous kind of trust.
Because I was using it.
Because Aria needed me to.
And somewhere in the sick mess of it all, I needed her too.
I lit a cigarette as I stepped back into the street, rain starting to fall in cold needles against my collar. The Specter was gone—back to whatever graveyard he crawled from. The flash drive was in his hand now, and that meant pieces were moving. Quietly. Efficiently. The way they always did before the storm.
I wasn't ready to burn down Monarch yet.
Not until I knew if she could still walk away from it.
Not until I knew if I could.
Because I was still playing both sides.
And so far…
Neither of them had called my bluff.
---
I didn't go back to my apartment. Not yet. I couldn't stand the stillness. The silence always made me think too much—and thinking too much around this web of lies was a good way to get tangled in them.
Instead, I went to the rooftop bar two blocks from Wolfe Tower. The kind of place where no one asked your name, where the drinks were strong and the people were forgettable. I liked it here. Here, I wasn't the man betraying Damian Wolfe or the man stringing Aria Vale along a razor's edge.
I was just a ghost with a glass of whiskey.
My phone buzzed again.
Aria: Did you deliver it?
I stared at the screen for a long moment before replying.
Me: Yes.
Aria: And Wolfe?
Me: Still in the dark.
She didn't respond after that.
Good.
She was starting to question me. I could feel it. In the pauses. In the way her eyes lingered a beat too long, like she was trying to read the parts of me I never let her see.
I drained the rest of the glass and ordered another.
I wasn't worried about Damian yet.
He still looked at me like I was the most dependable bastard he'd ever known.
But Aria…
Aria looked at me like she already knew how this ended—and she was just waiting for me to prove it.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Because if either of them asked me to choose…
I didn't know who I'd betray first.
Or if I'd survive it.
---
Aria Vale
I didn't tell Jasper I was coming. I never used to give warnings—not when it mattered. And tonight, it mattered.
I found him exactly where I expected—nursing a drink on the rooftop of the Brimstone Lounge, shadowed in the neon glow, alone but never unguarded. He clocked me the moment I stepped out of the elevator, but he didn't move. Just raised an eyebrow and gestured to the seat beside him.
"Didn't think you'd show," he said casually.
"I like surprises." I slid into the seat, ordered nothing. I was here for answers, not alcohol.
We sat in silence for a moment. The city pulsed beneath us, a breathing thing. I studied his profile. Sharp lines. Calm expression. But the tension in his shoulders told a different story.
"You delivered the file," I said.
"You know I did."
"Do I?" I leaned back, folding my arms. "Because something's been off lately, Jasper. The way you're handling things. The way you're watching me."
He didn't look at me. "You think I'm watching you?"
"I think you're playing both sides."
Now he did turn, slow and deliberate, his expression unreadable. "That's dangerous talk, Aria."
"So is lying to me."
I let the words hang there, heavy as the sky.
"You asked me to help you take Wolfe down," he said finally. "I've kept your secrets. I've moved your pieces. But if you're starting to doubt me—"
"I'm not doubting you," I cut in, eyes locked on his. "I'm testing you."
Silence.
"You pass?"
He smirked, but it didn't touch his eyes. "I always do."
But as I stood, I caught it—just a flicker. A crack in the armor. Fear. Not of me, but of what I might already know.
I walked away without looking back.
And I smiled.
Because for the first time, I knew he was hiding something.
And I was going to find out exactly what it was.
---
It was almost midnight when I met Kira on the rooftop of the safehouse. The city lights burned low behind her—flickers of gold and violet, like firelight seen through smoke. She was crouched near the edge, scanning the street below with military stillness, her coat flaring in the wind like a shadow with edges.
"He's moving like he doesn't know we're watching," she said without turning.
"Because he doesn't," I replied, stepping beside her.
Jasper had just left the building across the street. Nondescript. Industrial. Nothing on the outside but rot and rust—but inside, secrets were trading hands like currency.
"His tail report?" I asked.
"Confirmed contact with the Monarch's men three nights ago. He passed a file—heavily protected. The one you gave him.
My jaw clenched. "I still think he's playing both sides."
Kira stood, adjusting her gloves with deliberate control. "Want me to take care of it?"
"Not yet. I want to be sure. He's still valuable—until he's not."
She glanced at me sideways, eyes gleaming. "You want to test him."
I nodded. "We feed him a story. False intel. Let him carry it straight to his masters. If he bites, we'll know."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we find out who he's loyal to...me or the highest bidder."
Kira's grin was feral. "I'll prep the file. You want the hard truth or something theatrical?"
"Theatrical," I said. "Make it sound urgent. Dangerous. Like the kind of thing that could tip the scales if it landed in the wrong hands."
"I've got just the thing."
She started toward the stairwell but paused at the door. "You ever think about what happens if we're wrong?"
"About Jasper?"
She nodded once.
I exhaled, watching the breath fog. "Then we burn him. Fast."
She gave a sharp nod and disappeared down the stairs.
And I stayed there a moment longer—watching the place where Jasper had vanished into the dark.
If he betrayed me...
He'd learn what it meant to cross someone who rose from ruin.
Because I wasn't seventeen anymore.
And this time, I wouldn't bleed quietly.