Heir In The Shadows

EPISODE 12

Jax decided it was time. After Luciano left that afternoon, he sat in the coffee shop for hours, staring blankly at the cup of his favourite black coffee in his hand. No matter how much he wanted to harden his heart, some foolish part of him still clung to hope—that maybe Damon would finally choose him, that maybe all those years of loyalty, sacrifice, and love hadn’t been for nothing. He knew what Damon had been doing during his absence; the whispers, the rumors, and the silence spoke louder than words. But Jax still wanted to see for himself. Still wanted to give Damon the chance to explain.

When he finally pulled up to the penthouse that night, the city lights glittered like mocking stars. He stepped out of his car, adjusted his coat, and walked in with the same quiet composure that always made people underestimate him.

Inside, everything was as pristine as ever, yet the air felt heavy, suffocating. Jax unbuttoned his coat, hung it neatly by the door, and made his way to the living room. Empty. The soft hum of music drifted from the bedroom, along with muffled sounds of sleep. Something in his chest clenched, but he forced his feet forward.

The moment he opened the bedroom door, the world stopped.

There they were. Damon and Eli. Tangled under the sheets, bare shoulders visible, their bodies pressed together in the kind of intimacy that used to belong to him alone. Eli’s head rested on Damon’s chest as though he had every right, as though Jax hadn’t spent years being the man Damon once claimed was his everything.

Jax didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. His body betrayed him, frozen in a silence more deafening than a scream. He had always known the betrayal. But seeing it alive, seeing it here—in his home, in his bed—was a knife straight through his soul.

The sound of the door clicking shut startled Damon awake. His eyes opened, hazy with sleep, until he turned and saw Jax standing in the doorway. His entire body jolted as if struck by lightning.

“Jax—” Damon’s voice broke. He scrambled upright, fumbling with the sheet to cover himself, shaking Eli awake in the process.

Eli’s eyes blinked open slowly, and when he realized who stood there, all color drained from his face. He reached for words, excuses, anything—but Jax had already turned, walking away without a single word, his silence more lethal than any outburst.

Panic surged through Damon. He leapt out of bed, grabbing his clothes in frantic movements, half-dressed as he chased after Jax into the sitting room.

Jax stood at the mini whisky and wine bar, his back to Damon. His hands were steady as he poured himself a glass of whiskey, but Damon could see the tension in his shoulders, the storm building beneath the calm. Jax tilted the glass back and downed the amber liquid in one go.

Then, with deliberate calm, he threw the glass against the wall. It shattered into a thousand glittering shards, the sound ricocheting like a gunshot. Damon flinched.

Jax turned, his face unreadable, his voice low and cold.

“How long has it been going on?”

Damon froze, his mouth dry. “Jax, I—I can explain, I—”

Jax’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask for excuses. I asked when it started.”

Damon’s lips trembled. The truth clawed at his throat, ugly and shameful. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never meant for you to find out like this. I just… you’re always busy, Jax. With your fights, your business, everything but me. I felt like… like I didn’t matter anymore.”

Jax’s expression didn’t change, but his voice grew colder. “When did it start?”

Damon’s shoulders sagged, his last defense crumbling. He forced the words out like poison. “A year ago.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Damon swallowed, his guilt spilling out as he continued.

“It was the night you canceled our vacation. You said something important came up… and I… I was angry. I went out drinking, alone. I wanted you there, but you weren’t. And when I couldn’t call you, I called Eli. You begged him to look after me, remember? That night… I was drunk, upset, and he… he stayed. One thing led to another, and—”

His voice cracked, shame etched across his face. “It just… never stopped after that. We kept seeing each other. I swear, I didn’t plan it. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Jax stood there, motionless, his gaze sharp enough to cut glass. Inside, his chest burned, but outside, he was all ice. Hearing Damon admit it aloud twisted the knife deeper, but still—he held himself together.

The man he had loved, the man he had given everything to, had not only betrayed him—but done so with the very person Jax once called his brother.

And still, Damon had the audacity to stand there and call it a mistake.

---

Jax’s eyes, dark and unyielding, locked onto Damon. He stepped closer, his voice deceptively calm, but every word carried the weight of a storm ready to break.

“Even though I was busy,” Jax began, each word precise, cutting through the thick silence of the room, “the little time I had… I made sure it was spent with you. Just you. Alone. No distractions. No one else.”

Damon flinched, opening his mouth, but Jax continued, his gaze sharp, unrelenting.

“I remember the times Eli wouldn’t even tell me off for interrupting him… why? Because I was too focused on you. Because I chose you over everything, over everyone. I gave you my attention, my time, my heart.”

He took a slow, deliberate breath, the calm in his voice making the room feel colder. “So tell me, Damon… what is it that Eli gives you that I can’t? Does he f**k you better than I do? Does he love you better than I do? Does he take care of you better than I do? Or what… what am I missing here?”

The dangerous edge in his tone was unmistakable, a quiet predator testing his prey. Damon opened his mouth again, words faltering, guilt shining in his eyes. But Jax didn’t let him speak.

“You didn’t just end it outside, did you? No…” Jax’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You had the audacity… the gall… to bring him into our home. To do this shameful act on our bed—the same bed where we sleep, where we make love, where you gave me your first surrendering of yourself. Where you told me your body, your soul, and your heart would always be mine alone.”

Jax’s voice dropped lower, a dangerous whisper that could ignite fear in anyone. “I’m heading out. And by the time I’m back, Damon… I want Eli gone.”

He turned sharply, his coat swishing around him as he strode past Damon, leaving him frozen, calling after him. But Jax didn’t look back. Not once.

The room felt colder, emptier, as if the walls themselves had absorbed the magnitude of Jax’s anger, his heartbreak, and the silent threat that lay beneath his calm exterior.

Damon sank to the edge of the bed, words lost in his throat, guilt and fear warring with the remnants of his arrogance. He hadn’t just betrayed Jax—he had awakened a side of him that was calm, controlled, and utterly lethal.

And he knew… this was only the beginning.

---

Jax slid into the chair across from Luciano, still tense, still carrying the raw weight of what he had just witnessed. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady his racing heart, but his eyes betrayed him—they were stormy, restless, filled with anger, hurt, and a trace of longing he refused to admit.

Luciano studied him quietly, his gaze steady, unflinching. He didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch, letting Jax settle into it, letting the man in front of him feel the quiet understanding of someone who could see through the cracks, through the armor.

Finally, Luciano leaned back, a small, easy smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You look like hell,” he said softly, almost teasingly, but there was no judgment in his tone. Only honesty.

Jax snorted, bitterly. “I feel worse than I look.”

Luciano’s smile deepened, a warmth creeping into his eyes. “I can imagine. But I also know something about you.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “You’re not someone who breaks easily. And anyone who tries to hurt you… ends up regretting it.”

Jax blinked, surprised at the gentleness in Luciano’s tone, the way it contrasted so sharply with the storm inside him. He wanted to snap, to push back, but the truth lingered—Luciano’s presence, his calm, his understanding, was oddly soothing. Dangerous, yes, but soothing.

“Why are you here?” Jax asked cautiously, keeping his voice measured, wary. “This… dinner. You don’t owe me anything.”

Luciano leaned in slightly, his voice low, confident, and intimate.

“Maybe I don’t. But I wanted to be here. For you. For tonight, for however long you’ll let me.”

Jax’s jaw tightened. Part of him wanted to look away, to retreat into his walls, to remind himself that he still had Damon, still had a life complicated and tied to another man’s betrayal. Yet another part of him—the part he rarely acknowledged—was drawn to Luciano in a way he couldn’t name, a pull he couldn’t resist even if he wanted to.

Luciano’s gaze softened. “I know what’s happened… with Damon. I know what you saw. I can’t fix it. But I can promise you this: no one will ever betray you while I’m around. No one.”

Jax’s hands tightened around his glass, the whiskey untouched. For the first time all day, he allowed himself a shiver, the tension bleeding out just slightly. “And you think that changes anything?”

Luciano’s lips curved in a knowing, almost dangerous smile. “I don’t care what it changes. I just care that I’m here. And that you know you’re not alone.”

Jax didn’t reply. He simply stared, the storm in his chest easing slightly, replaced by a complicated heat, a dangerous curiosity. And for the first time since Damon’s betrayal, he allowed himself to wonder… maybe he didn’t want to be alone anymore.

The waiter approached with their first course, but neither man immediately moved. Their eyes remained locked, an unspoken tension building between them—a delicate dance of power, desire, and the faintest whisper of trust.

And in that quiet, electric space, Jax felt something he hadn’t in a long time: the stirring of possibility.