Chapter 3 - Half brothers
1220 Words
Jayden’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. “No.”
The word came out sharper than he expected, brittle with panic. “You should leave. Now.”
Ronan stared at him, calm and unreadable, without a word.
“I’ll call security,” Jayden added, forcing steel into his voice.
Ronan's lips curved slowly, amused watching as Jayden rose and fell too fast.
“Are you making threats now?” he asked, lightly.
Jayden’s jaw tightened. “That kiss was a mistake. You can keep the pendant as compensation if you wish.”
For a second, Ronan simply watched him.
Then he laughed soft and low, his voice echoing in the office and then he turned away.
“Relax,” he said over his shoulder. “But remember you owe me a one.”
He walked toward the door, his steps lazy.
“We’ll talk again,” Ronan said. “Soon.”
The door closed behind him with a quiet click.
Jayden stood there long after, heart pounding, palms slick with sweat.
The room felt smaller, tighter like the walls had leaned in to listen.
—
Later that evening, Drake walked into Jayden's apartment, jacket still on, tie loosened, eyes sharp.
Jayden was just setting the table for dinner when he saw him.
“I came to your office but couldn't see you,” Jayden whispered, walking towards him.
Drake walked past him, sliding into a couch. “Where were you on our anniversary night?”
Jayden turned slowly, pulse jumping. “I…..”
“I checked,” Drake continued, voice calm but edged. “You weren't at home nor in the company.”
Jayden swallowed. “One of the guests demanded an audience?”
Drake studied him. “Audience? At that hour? What type of audience?”
Jayden forced a shrug. “I didn't want him to notice your absence so I followed. He was asking about…..”
Drake's phone vibrated, interrupting Jayden.
Drake pulled it out, a frown smearing his face the moment he glanced at the screen, then he slipped it back into his pocket.
“We'll talk later,” he said. “I've got to go.”
Jayden felt air rush into his lungs, ribs widening.
Drake stopped before him, brushing a brief kiss against his temple. “Better not be lying to me.”
When the door shut behind him, Jayden staggered into the nearest couch, breath leaving him in a shaky rush.
—
The next day, Jayden was halfway through his workday when Ronan appeared again.
He didn't knock, just strided into the office like he owns it.
Jayden shot to his feet. “You can't just….”
Ronan headed straight to the seat before the desk, calm, composed and dangerous.
“Security won't come,” Ronan said easily. “I told them you were expecting me.”
Jayden’s hands shook. “Don’t you understand what keeping distance means?”
Ronan pulled out his phone, turned the screen and pushed it towards Jayden.
Jayden felt his heartbeat skip seconds when he saw the video playing on the screen.
It was that night, the way he kissed him hurriedly without hesitating.
“How dare you?” Jayden whispered. “Get rid of it.”
Ronan tilted his head. “Why? It’s quite alluring.”
“You’re sick,” Jayden snapped. “This is blackmail.”
Ronan smiled. “Is it? I haven’t asked for anything yet.”
Jayden’s voice broke. “What do you want?”
Ronan leaned closer. “Sleep with me.”
Jayden staggered back. “No. I can't do that.”
Ronan’s mouth tilted, amusement glinting briefly before disappearing. “Just kidding. But you needed to see your face.”
Jayden closed his eyes for a second. “Are you having fun?”
Ronan sighed, almost disappointed. “You won't grant me the fun I want.”
“What exactly do you want?” Jayden snapped.
Ronan leaned back into his seat. “Come work under me.”
Jayden stared at him. “I won’t.”
Ronan rose, heading towards the door.
“Then you leave me with no other choice,” he said, waving his phone.
Jayden inhaled deeply, Drake's words ringing in his ears.
“Wait,” he said hoarsely. “Work under you. What does that mean?”
Ronan’s lips curved slowly, satisfaction settling in his eyes, he turned slowly, clapping his hands once.
Two men clad in black walked in instantly, dropping an envelope before Jayden.
Jayden tore the envelope quickly but froze when he saw the company's name.
“You work here,” he whispered. “Like you own this company.”
Ronan's eyes gleamed. “Sign the documents. You are going to be my assistant.”
Jayden hesitated, hands shaking on the paper.
“Having second thoughts, the video is…..”
Jayden quickly grabbed the pen, signing the papers in a haste.
“All done,” he said. “Hand over your phone.”
Ronan threw his phone towards him.
“Password,” Jayden demanded, catching that phone.
“Jayden,” Ronan smirked.
Jayden stared at him for a heartbeat before entering it.
His fingers stilled on the screen for a second when the phone unlocked.
But without any word, he deleted the video and handed the phone back.
“When will I resume?” he demanded.
“On….”
Ronan's phone vibrated and when he glanced at the screen a lazy smile touched Ronan’s mouth, but his eyes stayed sharp.
“Now,” Ronan said. “Move your things to my office, the receptionist will hand you the keys.”
With that, he walked out of the office, without glancing back.
—
Drake stood in his office, a half empty glass of whiskey twirled in his hands, the city glowing coldly beyond the glass walls.
His assistant stood stiffly behind him, tablet held tight.
“We verified,” he muttered. “Jayden headed towards the suite after answering a phone call. Security footage shows him entering the left wing suite elevator.”
Drake's fingers curled slowly around the glass. “And?”
He hesitated, “He…he..”
Drake spun around abruptly, the glass slipping off his fingers as he snatched the tablet from him.
A dark grainy video played, the figures clear enough.
On it, Jayden hurried into someone's arms and then a kiss hungry and passionate was exchanged.
Drake's hands tightened on the tablet, his eyes leaning closer.
But then he froze, the face that tilted to devour Jayden's lips was unmistakable.
Ronan, his younger half brother.
The room went very still.
“Get out,” Drake said quietly.
The assistant didn’t hesitate.
The moment the door closed, Drake slammed the tablet into the glass window, shattering sound followed.
For a second, a smile appeared on his face vanishing before the shadows could see it as he curled his fingers into a fists.
“This won't end well,” he breathed. “Ronan, I will….”
The air behind Drake shifted.
A faint scent of smoke curled into his lungs, sharp and familiar.
The chair creaked softly.
“Didn't know you still talked behind my back.” a cruel voice drawled behind him.
Drake spun abruptly, his knuckles turning white.
On his chair sat Ronan, legs crossed, a lit cigarette in between his lips.
- Writer
