Heir In The Shadows

EPISODE 14

Jax sat with the plate balanced on his lap, eating slowly. His movements were deliberate, but Luciano could tell his mind was elsewhere. Every so often, Jax’s gaze would drop, his jaw tightening before he forced himself to relax.

Luciano didn’t rush him. He sat back in his chair, one arm resting lazily on the armrest, his dark eyes watching Jax with a mixture of interest and patience. He knew Jax was a man who hated being cornered, a man who had built walls higher than most. Forcing them down would only drive him further away. But if he could make Jax lower them on his own… that was a victory worth waiting for.

“You’re thinking too much,” Luciano finally said, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost coaxing. “The food is meant to be enjoyed, not to be dissected in your head like one of your strategies.”

Jax shot him a sharp look, his instinct to bristle immediate. But Luciano’s smirk was light, teasing, and it pulled a reluctant breath out of Jax’s chest that was dangerously close to a laugh.

“You always talk too much,” Jax muttered, stabbing at his eggs.

“And yet,” Luciano leaned forward slightly, his tone dipping lower, “you never tell me to stop.”

That earned him another look—longer this time. Jax’s eyes lingered, heavy with the weight of someone who wasn’t used to being seen through. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the words died there, replaced instead with another forkful of food.

Luciano chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re a difficult man, Jax Kael. But I like difficult. Difficult means there’s more to discover.”

Jax swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He hated how easily Luciano’s words slipped past his armor, how they didn’t feel like manipulation but rather… sincerity. And sincerity was dangerous.

“You don’t know me,” Jax finally said, setting the fork down. His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed a storm beneath. “You think you do, but you don’t.”

Luciano didn’t flinch. He leaned closer, his face mere inches from Jax’s now, his voice a low murmur. “You’re right. I don’t know everything… yet. But I know enough to see you’re hurting. And I know enough to want to be the one you stop hurting with.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Jax’s chest rose and fell, his fists clenching at his sides as if restraining himself from reacting.

Finally, he looked away, jaw tight. “You’re walking a dangerous line, Luciano.”

Luciano smiled faintly, not backing off. “I’ve lived my whole life on dangerous lines, Jax. This one… feels worth it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy, intimate, undeniable. And though Jax didn’t answer, though his silence was his shield, the fact that he didn’t walk away… that was an answer all on its own.

---

By the time Jax finally pushed himself to stand, the sun had risen high enough to pour golden light through Luciano’s wide glass windows. The morning silence felt heavier than it should, pressing on his shoulders as he slipped his coat back on.

Luciano, who had been leaning casually against the doorway, watching him, didn’t move to stop him. He only spoke when Jax turned, his hand resting briefly on the doorknob.

“Leaving already?” Luciano’s voice was smooth, not questioning so much as… knowing.

Jax didn’t answer at first. He glanced back at the man with the same guarded expression he wore in the face of rival bosses, but Luciano caught it—the faintest flicker of hesitation in those sharp eyes.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Jax finally muttered, his tone clipped.

Luciano’s lips curved into that slow, infuriating smirk. “And yet, you came. You stayed. You ate my food. Slept in my bed. That’s a start, Jax Kael.”

Jax’s jaw clenched. He wanted to snap back, to cut through the silky confidence Luciano wore like a second skin, but the words refused to come. Instead, he opened the door and stepped out into the crisp morning air.

One of Luciano’s men, Nic, stood ready by the car, holding the keys to Jax’s vehicle. Jax accepted them without a word, though he felt Luciano’s gaze lingering on him from the doorway like a shadow that refused to fade.

As he slid behind the wheel, Jax gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles whitening. Luciano’s words from earlier replayed in his head like a whisper he couldn’t silence:

“I know enough to see you’re hurting. And I know enough to want to be the one you stop hurting with.”

It infuriated him—how easily those words slipped past his walls, how they struck at the very place he had been trying to bury beneath anger, betrayal, and duty. He slammed his palm once against the steering wheel, frustrated at himself.

The engine roared to life, and he drove out of Luciano’s estate, the road ahead blurred by thoughts he couldn’t shake. Damon’s betrayal still cut like a blade, but now another truth pressed against his chest—Luciano’s presence. His persistence. His undeniable pull.

And though Jax told himself he was leaving to reclaim his distance, his mind betrayed him with one haunting question:

Why did it feel like, for the first time in years, someone saw the man beneath the Kingmaker… and didn’t turn away?

---

The drive from Luciano’s mansion back to his estate was silent, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional vibration of his phone against the console. Damon’s name flashed across the screen again and again—calls, messages, voicemails. Each one ignored.

“Baby, please pick up.”

“Jax, I can explain.”

“Don’t do this to us. I need you.”

Jax didn’t even glance at the notifications anymore. His jaw was set, his focus locked on the road ahead, but no matter how hard he tried to shut it out, Luciano’s words from that night still clung to him, whispering into the cracks of his wounded heart.

When he finally reached the gates of his estate, the guards opened them instantly, bowing their heads as he passed through. The estate loomed large, a fortress of power and wealth, but for once it didn’t feel like home—it felt like a refuge, a place to retreat and breathe.

He stayed there for two days, burying himself in silence, in training, in meetings with Draco and the men. Damon’s desperate attempts to reach him never stopped—his phone was a constant buzzing reminder of the man who had shattered him. But Jax never answered, never responded. Damon’s voice, once the comfort he sought, now grated against his soul like a cruel mockery.

By the second night, Jax had made his decision. He couldn’t keep holding on. Letting go meant moving away completely. And to do that, he had to clear the last remnants of his life with Damon—the penthouse.

—

Two days later, Jax found himself standing before the penthouse door, his hand lingering on the knob for a beat too long. The memories that lived within these walls flashed in his mind—laughter, whispered promises, stolen touches—but so did the betrayal. The sight of Damon and Eli tangled together on the bed they once called theirs.

With a slow exhale, he pushed the door open. Silence greeted him. Damon wasn’t home—he’d gone to work. That made things easier.

Jax moved through the space like a ghost, his expression unreadable, though his chest tightened with every step. He headed straight for his secret base within the penthouse, a concealed room Damon didn’t even know existed. It was here he kept the most important parts of himself—documents, weapons, mementos, and even small tokens Damon had given him in the past.

Piece by piece, he gathered everything. Draco arrived with a van, silently following orders. He didn’t ask questions, just began carrying out box after box, bag after bag. The penthouse slowly emptied of Jax’s presence.

When the last of it was packed, Jax stood in the center of the living room, his eyes sweeping over the place one final time.

“Take it all back to the estate,” Jax instructed quietly.

“Yes, Boss,” Draco replied. He glanced at Jax, hesitated as if he wanted to say something more, then gave a sharp nod before leaving with the last of the boxes.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Jax alone.

He should have walked away too. But no—there was one thing left undone. One truth left unsaid.

He needed to face Damon one last time. To tell him, not with anger or brokenness, but with finality, that it was over. That he was done.

So Jax sat down in silence, poured himself a drink from the bar, and waited for Damon to return.

This time, there would be no running.