The Boss's Daughter

Chapter 9: Revelations & Realisations (7,4K)

Chapter 9: Revelations & Realisations (7,4K)

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

Jace's PoV

Jace silently followed his boss to the parking lot, where Valentine parted with his daughter, not without kissing her forehead once again and promising her to see her over breakfast. Clarissa meaningfully glanced at Jace before she entered the car, clearly hoping that he would do good by his promise.

Then, Valentine and Jace got in their own limousine as Clarissa was driven away. The two men hopped into the back of the black car, Jace briefly saluting Raphael who sat in the driver's seat. The Latino man winked at Jace, about to ask him how he was doing when Valentine cut him off,

"To the Alicante. And roll up the partition."

Raphael did as told, and Jace did not utter a word as the car made its way out of the parking lot. The fact that Valentine had just mentioned the largest and most luxurious hotel he owned, Jace knew that there really was business on the way. After all, Jace knew that his boss was clever enough to not cause a scene in one of the most famous places he owned.

For a moment, neither of the men said a thing, Jace simply waiting for Valentine to fill him in on what was expected of him, and Valentine sending some emails via his phone. When he was finished, he looked through his window before asking,

"How was Japan? I hope Clary didn't give you too much trouble."

"Everything went smoothly. It wasn't as … unpleasant as I had thought it would be," Jace guaranteed, his voice reassuring and neutral as usual.

Valentine slightly turned his head to look at him, an eyebrow raised up as he pointed out, "Nobody likes looking after Clary. Not even Magnus. She always makes fusses."

Jace couldn't help the smirk that grew on his lips as he agreed with the older man, "Yeah. I noticed how … stubborn she can get. But I had done more unpleasant jobs than looking after your daughter, Valentine."

"Stubborn … That's a nice way to put it. But then again, I guess that you had to bend a little in front of her stubbornness," Valentine said, a mocking smile spreading across his face and making Jace frown out of incomprehension.

He knew that more than once, Valentine had told him that his daughter was pigheaded, unreasonable, and borderline unmanageable at times; which was why he'd laughed at the euphemism Jace used. But that did not explain why he was making fun of Jace at that moment. Of course, that was until Valentine showed Jace a picture on his phone that made the young man miss a breath.

It was a picture that Clarissa had begged him to take with her when they went to visit the Imperial Palace, the two of them dressed in kimonos. She was smiling, making peace signs with her fingers; her hair done in traditional Japanese fashion, and behind her stood Jace, all but brooding at the fact that he had to take a picture.

"If I had known that Clary was the means of making you loosen up a bit, I would have put you on her back sooner."

Jace glared at the picture, wondering why Clarissa would send this picture to her father when she was so adamant of not telling him anything about what had happened during the past few weeks, but he did not linger on that. Instead, he looked away from the phone, and naturally said,

"As I said, she can be very stubborn."

Valentine laughed a little more, but when Raphael took a turn getting them closer to the hotel, seriousness reclaimed his features. "Do you remember Malachi?"

Jace nodded, recalling that he was a politician that Valentine helped raise into power more than a decade ago. It was before his time, but that did not mean that Jace didn't know all that needed to be known about the man. He knew that Valentine paid for all his campaigns, paid to give him the best advisors and that he was now running to be Mayor of New York.

"Well, it seems that Malachi forgot some rules about being under my protection. I want you to remind him of them."

Jace raised an eyebrow at his boss, knowing exactly what was expected of him; but waiting to have more information on the matter before saying anything. He knew it wasn't a matter of money, because Valentine made profits from having the man in the position of power he was in.

"Did he not pay—"

"All the money I was supposed to get from that man has already been given years ago. It's not about the money. It's about his morals."

They soon reached Alicante and when they parked upfront, Jace looked up to the top of the hotel, a sarcastic smirk on his lips. Malachi was known in the city for being a good politician that helped the poor and made sure to get rid of the scum. But he was also famous for his infidelities. He had been spotted several times with secretaries and advisors, his wife being none of them as she was waiting for him at home with their toddler.

"You want me to go upstairs and preach to the man against adultery. No offence Valentine, but I am not a priest."

Valentine raised an eyebrow at him as if he was seeing Jace in a new light. "Do you condone adultery?"

"Me? I thought you knew me better than that. Of course not. But that is my personal opinion, regarding my personal life. And you're the one who always tells me not to mix personal matters with professional matters."

"I did, didn't I," Valentine said with a small nod. "But it isn't about the cheating. If it was, I would have never funded him in the first place. It's about his choice of 'lovers'. He's hired an escort that should arrive in his room within the next half hour. I want you to go upstairs and remind him that we do not tolerate s*x-trafficking in Idris."

Idris was a mob that was very powerful and very well built, and Jace always admired that about Valentine. How he made it come from nothing. And what he admired the most about the man was how he stood by the principals he'd begun with all along. He was not going to pretend to be someone he was not. He was a kingpin, and therefore, not above killing those who betrayed him, torturing someone who owed him money, selling drugs to the rich and almighty, or even stealing precious items to sell back to the most offering.

But there were two things he never did. He never touched children. And he never got involved with s*x-trafficking. Even though it was an easy way to make money, Valentine had always been explicitly clear when it came to s*x-trafficking. He had not hesitated on killing one of his own men when they'd hired a prostitute to prove his point.

It wasn't the first time Valentine had Jace intervene in a case like this. Usually, like that night, Valentine always waited for the girl to arrive, so she would have her money because pimps could get violent when they lost money. And every time he had to take care of that sort of business, Valentine always told Jace to leave the girl a number to call if they wanted out. Over the years, only a couple of girls had called, and Valentine had made sure to get them out of the system, paying for their school and their tuitions.

Jace had always wondered what made him so adamant to that particular cause, but he never asked. Mostly because he felt that it was related to Valentine's personal life, and he didn't want to pry into his boss's privacy.

"How long have you known?"

"Raphael confirmed it this morning."

"Are you sure she's a hooker and not just some … friend?"

"Why do you automatically assume the hooker is a she?"

Jace frowned, not sure where the question was coming from. In his mind, it was pretty clear that s*x-trafficking was applied to girls.

"Because we're talking about hookers."

"And there are no frustrated homosexuals in this world? Or middle-aged women looking for a way to pass through their midlife crises? Don't be so narrow-minded and think that just because people usually pay girls for s*x, it applies to all such cases."

"So am I going to find a boy upstairs?"

"No. A girl. Probably blonde, because even though his wife is a brunette, he always goes for blondes. I just want you to stop being so … obtuse of what you think life is. Life is not black or white. There is grey all over this world."

Jace nodded, before getting out of the car. Then, he watched Raphael drive away, grimacing as he realized that he would have to cab it home or take the tube. He would probably ride a cab though because he didn't like taking the tube. As he was thinking of how he would get home, Jace rode the elevator up to the suite number Valentine had given him, and it occurred to him then that Malachi was clearly not a man who had his affairs in a discreet manner. He couldn't even give the little thing that was discretion to his wife.

When he was at the door in question, Jace opened it with a card key that he always had in his wallet that could open any door to the rooms in that hotel, and he walked in without a care in the world.

He found Malachi laying lazily in his bed, his bathrobe covering his pale body while his grey eyes opened wide upon seeing Jace. "Who are you? What are you doing here?!"

Jace smirked at the man, pulling back the hotel's desk chair and sitting on it, waiting for the hooker to knock at the door. His gazed long at the man in front of him, who had the decency to properly close his robe as he mumbled between his teeth, "I'm calling security. This is unacceptable. Do you know who I am?"

"Do you know who I come from?" Jace countered in a cool demeanour that made Malachi freeze. He slowly turned, his eyes narrowing, before uttering,

"You must be the muscle everyone talks about. The one who throws away the dirty laundry while Valentine looks squeaky clean, like the perfect businessman he always appears to be."

"I must be that muscle. Which means you know why I am here?"

Malachi looked at Jace straight in the eye, clearly panicked by Jace's tone and presence. After all, Jace always stayed in the shadows, but as Malachi had just pointed out, he made himself quite a reputation in Idris and amongst the people affiliated to the mob. And usually, people who saw him with Valentine by his side were people who were about to be in deep trouble. Or about to die.

"Whatever Valentine thinks I did, I didn't do it. He should know better. I'm not even in the office, yet. Why would I screw up now?"

As if to prove him wrong, there was a slight knock on the door, making Jace's smirk grow even wider. He got up to open the door to the girl. She was probably in her late teens, early twenties maybe. Her hair was bleach blonde and her eyes were an icy blue. She was wearing the shortest red dress that had ever been created, with black heels that complimented the curves of her behind.

Jace gently let her in, following her back into the room. Malachi looked from the girl to Jace, his eyes revealing the panic that was inside him, but his body and face being void of emotions. This was probably why he was a rather good politician. Except for his eyes, no one could tell what he was thinking.

The girl, on the other hand, didn't seem happy to be there, and even less with two men instead of one. "What is your name?"

"Kaelie."

Jace nodded, before looking at Malachi. "Well, don't be rude. Give your guest what she came for."

"What?!"

"You heard me. Give her the money so she can have her night off," Jace said more explicitly, everything in his tone indicating that he was not playing around. Kaelie looked panicked as she said,

"Don't send me back! I'll do whatever you want, but don't send me back, or she will have my head cut off!"

"We're giving you the night off, Kaelie. What you do with your night is for you only to know. And like I just said, you will have your money that my good friend here will provide," Jace reassured her.

Malachi glared at Jace, trying to withhold his position, but all it took from the blonde man was to reposition himself in his chair to make the politician get up and reach for his purse. "And don't forget the tips. We were two, after all," Jace taunted.

Then, when Kaelie had the money in hand, Jace walked her back to the door, realizing as he did so that he did not have the card he usually gave girls in this situation. On the card was a number to call, and a place to go to if they wanted out; but since he took this job just right out of the airport, he came rather unprepared.

"Do you have your phone with you?" He asked her, and she nodded giving it to him, too happy to go without having to lay on the bed first.

Jace put his number in her phone, and told her, "In case you want out, call me. I will help. Don't hesitate, even if it's after several months."

Then she left, leaving Jace alone with the politician. The two men stared at one another for a few seconds, before Jace made his way once again into the room to put the chair back into its rightful place as he told the man behind him, "There won't be a next time, because I know you are a clever man. I know you understood your lesson. If I so much as hear you touched your wallet while thinking of a woman, you better start running. Because I might throw away dirty laundry, but I don't do it quick and nicely."

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

Jace got home riding a cab, checking through his texts and emails. He had been back for barely a couple of hours when his phone had started to buzz in a frenzy, and now that he came to think of it, he was sure that Valentine ordered his men to not contact Jace while he was abroad since he didn't receive any news from anyone during his three weeks in Japan.

He was in the back of a cab when his screen lit up with Jordan's face. Jace grimaced, sure that his friend was calling to propose a night out to celebrate his comeback; and sent him a quick text before getting out of the yellow car.

Completely washed out. But we will definitely go out next week. Let me crash first. J

Once in the lobby of his building, Jace went through his mails, standing by his mailbox as he did so; and he rose his head when he saw someone coming out of the elevator.

Madame Dorothea smiled at him, making her way into the lobby as Jace closed his mailbox. She was his neighbour, living on the second floor and working at night. He actually tried to know what she was doing to work with such an unusual schedule, but Madame Dorothea was someone who knew how to keep her secrets.

"It's been a while, Jace. For a moment, I thought you moved out without telling me goodbye."

"I'd never do that, Madame Dorothea. You know that if I were ever to leave here, you'd be the first one I'd ask to come with me."

She shook her head at his flirt, smiling nonetheless. The thing about Madame Dorothea was that Jace always thought she was hot. Too old for him, definitely, (she could easily pass for his mother) but hot nonetheless. She was from Belgium, but with African ascendants, which made her skin have a lovely shade of chocolate. Her cheekbones were high, her face angular and her lips plump.

But despite all of her features, it was her confidence that made her stand out. She had some sort of essence emanating from her, that and the fact that she clearly didn't look her age. Jace always thought that she could be his mother, but one day, he learnt that she was much older than that and that she could actually be his grandmother. The day he learned of her true age, the saying 'black don't crack' had never seemed truer to him.

Still, he had this little flirting game with her. The two of them knew that it was just a simple joke that they shared, that it would never go further, but it was their thing whenever they would occasionally run into each other in the lobby. She started it, and he followed, making the little flirting a regular thing that would occur.

"But will I? What can a young man like you offer that I haven't already seen?"

"If only you knew, you'd never leave my apartment."

Madame Dorothea laughed, shaking her head slightly before gently tapping Jace's chest and walking out of the lobby. Jace smiled and walked to the elevator, feeling too lazy to take the stairs all the way up like he usually did.

Once in front of his door, he put his key into the keyhole but stopped himself from opening the door when he realized that the door wasn't locked. He was certain that he'd locked it before leaving to Japan, and no one had a double of his key, except for Magnus. But Jace knew his best friend, and he knew that Magnus would have left him one night of pure rest after coming back from a long mission.

So instead, Jace went back to the elevator, leaving his mail by the door, and went to the roof. He was living on the top floor, giving him a wonderful view of the city, but also giving him better access to the roof than anyone else in the building. With a little agility and a lot of nerve, he could access the roof from his condo, without having to use the stairs or the elevator. Jace never tried the other way around, because he always thought climbing up was easier than climbing down, so tonight would be a first.

He glanced down, hoping to not fall because it would be a pretty nasty fall. He saw that the lights were on in the first floor, so he carefully climbed down to his floor and pick locked the French window of his bedroom. Then, once inside his apartment, he removed his shoes, secured his gun in his hand and silently went downstairs, only to find Valentine's back facing him while the man read a paper.

"You're too suspicious for your own good, Jace. One day, that will get you killed."

"What are you doing here?"

"Brought you some food. I figured you would appreciate the thought," Valentine nonchalantly said, pointing to a bag of takeaway.

Jace walked to the kitchen counter where the food was, which was still rather warm, and his stomach growled happily when he realized it was Indian food. Jace took the bag and went to sit in a chair next to his boss, a spoon in hand as he asked, "Is it —"

"Yes, it's from Parvati's. She's asking about you, complaining that you're ruining her business for not coming by in almost a month."

Jace smiled, imagining the Indian woman scolding Valentine about Jace's absence. He actually went to her restaurant once a week. Indian food was his favourite kind of food. Probably because it was the first decent meal he'd had after running away. Back then, he was just a boy who had had a very bad day and didn't manage to steal any food or any money. He was questioning himself about stooping so low as to go through the garbage of a restaurant when his stomach convinced him that there was nothing low about it when avoiding starvation was the end result.

Parvati was taking out the trash when she caught him looking through the bags. She didn't scold him or chastise him. She simply took his hand (revealing that she could be quite strong), and took him to the kitchen of her restaurant where she served him a more than generous portion of food. She offered him shelter for the night as well, and Jace never forgot how this woman who knew nothing about him helped him during a cold night of winter.

He went back to her place weekly as soon as he started making money (even before Valentine), because he loved her food. And several times, he took Valentine to the place, which was rather interesting the first time around. Parvati's place looked nothing as good as her food was. It was a really small place, that didn't even look like a restaurant from the outside. The name of the restaurant was written in Hindi above it, and yet, still, the place was always packed. From opening to closing, no matter the day, there were always people.

Jace took a spoonful of rice with daahl on it, humming in delight when the flavours hit his taste buds. Then, he questioned Valentine about his presence, though he never looked away from his food, "So, apart from feeding me, why are you here?"

"How did it go?"

"As usual."

"He didn't argue or try to negotiate?"

"Nope. He was rather … unsettled to have to deal with 'the muscle'."

Valentine chuckled, and Jace kept his attention on his food, taking a naan out of the bag, before he let Valentine know, "If you want my opinion, you should stop helping him, and look for a replacement."

"A replacement?"

"Everyone knows about your views on the s*x-trade, whether they are from the underground, or they're those men in shiny suits who only think of you as a businessman. Everyone. And yet, the guy whose campaigns you funded, whose career you built still thought he could get away with it. Either he doesn't respect you or he thinks he's untouchable. Either way, you should get rid of someone who doesn't follow that simple line of conduct. Especially someone who's so well known and not just some random guy who owes you money. You should do it because it's your code, but also because if you don't, other people will see it as an opening to do as they see fit."

Valentine remained thoughtful for a moment, letting Jace finish his meal in quiet. He wasn't afraid that his boss thought that he crossed the line, because over the years, Valentine had asked for Jace's opinion more and more often, and Jace always spoke his mind when asked.

When Jace finally put his spoon down and took a sip of his mango lassi, Valentine slowly said, "I can't get rid of him that easily. It's easy to replace a gunman, it's easy to replace a drug seller, but it's not easy to replace a politician. Especially one that's running to be mayor. It takes time."

"So does building a reputation. I didn't touch him because he is a public figure. He got away with a threat and losing some money without getting some. You're known to be ruthless, especially on that matter. If word gets out that you just scolded Malachi, it won't take much time for your reputation to crumble."

"What do you suggest?"

"Cut him loose. You're no longer part of his life, and he will be in debt to you. Find yourself a new horse to bid on. One faithful, so we know he won't go to hookers. One clean enough for the public, but dirty enough to mingle with you."

"That kind of person doesn't exist, Jace. You're living in Utopia."

"Then create him. Pluck a guy out from some fancy school, and forge him as you want him to be. Pay off his college debt, so he will feel in debt to you then. Or pick a girl even. Just get rid of Malachi."

Once again, Valentine fell into silence, his eyes showing that he was already thinking of all the possibilities he could have, and of how he would get them. Then, he looked at Jace, curiosity in his features. "No one has ever been that straightforward with me. Not even Hodge."

"Well, that means no one ever had your best interests at heart, especially not Hodge," Jace retorted, getting up to do his dishes, but still noticing the way Valentine refrained himself from saying anything. "I mean, they may have had your interest in mind, but if it wasn't serving them right, they wouldn't put you first."

Valentine did not respond, replacing himself properly in the armchair he was occupying as he nonchalantly said, "When you were in Japan, you asked about my late wife."

"I did. I'm sorry, it was out of line."

"It was. Not many dare say her name, even when I'm not around." Jace went back to his boss, sitting in front of him, this time. "But like how it is common knowledge amongst the men, I like you, and I allow things with you that I don't allow with other people."

"Why?"

Jace had never understood why Valentine was so eager to show him the 'behind the scenes', why he trusted him to handle things that he usually handled alone, why he would always make sure Jace was in his entourage, whether it was Idris business or official business in the Clark Tower. He knew that Valentine valued his loyalty, but there were others that were just as loyal for far longer than him, Magnus being the perfect example.

Valentine seemed to think a little about it as if he was trying to understand why himself, before he explained, "Probably because I see myself in you. I started the Clark Company when I was sixteen, the same age you were when I took you into my ranks. And just like you, I lived a life of … a gutter-rat shall we say, before. The only difference between me and you was that I had people I could count on to help me up. You killed one of them, and the other is living a few floors below you."

"Maryse Lightwood?" Jace asked before immediately regretting it.

Valentine never mentioned any Lightwood to him before that day, Magnus either, and that led Jace to believe that he didn't know about Maryse's and Valentine's common history. Clarissa had told him about the Lightwoods because she was having trouble sleeping and spoke of her friends and family that she was missing, which she would have never done if they hadn't been sleeping together.

The older man rose an intrigued eyebrow at Jace but didn't comment on it. Instead, he went on, "Her name was Clark at the time. She's the second shareholder of the company. I wouldn't have been able to start the company without her."

Jace noticed the way Valentine clenched his fists, and how his voice grew deeper with … anger as he said those words. He wondered why but did not ask. He never asked about anything personal when it concerned Valentine.

"Anyway, we were talking about Jocelyn, not the sordid ways it took me to be where I am now. So? What did you learn from your research?"

"Who said I did research?"

"Are you going to pretend that after having my daughter tell you about her mother being from Japan, and not ever knowing anything about her, you didn't try to know a little bit?" Valentine asked, a mocking smile on his lips as he proved to Jace that he knew him very well, and how he would think and act.

"There is nothing really to know. I am sorry to have brought these painful memories when I asked you about it."

"She resents me, you know. Clary. For never talking about her mother. But … I'd rather have her resent me than have her hate me," Valentine said, his eyes now lost into space. Jace didn't utter a single word, waiting for Valentine to share when he was ready to share.

"You know that I've been married twice. The first time around, it was out of duty. I beat the odds by getting her pregnant. She had been declared sterile by her doctor at a very young age, and I was using protection because I knew she wasn't the most loyal girl. She was a free spirit.

She got pregnant and got a paternity test before telling me. She wasn't actually that bad of a person. She just asked that I provided for the child because she grew up poor, and she didn't want that for her child. I didn't even think of asking her for an abortion, because I knew it was probably her one and only chance to have a child. I was starting to make really good money, with Clark and with Idris, so I married her.

She … clearly wasn't with me for the money. And she stopped fooling around as soon as she knew she was pregnant. I bought this building a few weeks after we married, and we lived in the exact condo you live in. She said that I was extravagant, but did not complain, especially when she was fully into her second trimester.

The doctors had her bedridden because of her fragile constitution. Maryse spent a lot of time with her. And the more she was getting into her pregnancy, the sicker she was getting, the weaker she was getting. Until the day the doctors said that they should induce labour. So they did, and she didn't make it.

I wasn't really sad about it. I wasn't thrilled, but I wasn't sad either.

And a few years later, I met Jocelyn …"

Valentine stopped himself, sadness overcoming his features. For a moment, Jace thought that he was never going to get the end of the story, but then Valentine deeply breathed through his nose, and continued, as if he was talking to the wind,

"Jocelyn, I married out of love. I bought the ring a month after meeting her. But strangely enough, I was not as confident in the matter of love than in the matter of business. It took me a year to propose. She was … an angel. If I were to put it simply. I'd never met someone who was as selfless, kind, and open-minded as she was.

When she got pregnant with Clary, I became a bit paranoid. I was so scared to lose her to childbirth because I knew it would affect me more than it did with my first wife. But everything went fine, and she gave me Clary…"

Once again, Valentine stopped himself, swallowing hard, his eyes still lost into space and Jace said nothing, afraid to break the trance Valentine was in, lost in the memory of his beloved wife.

"We were actually trying to get another child when she died. Well … she was supposed to go to the doctor the day after the fire, to see if she was pregnant, but I never had the courage to ask the coroner if I lost a child in the addition of a wife. I'd rather think I didn't."

And finally, Valentine broke out his trance, looking straight into Jace's golden eyes and showing him contained anger that Jace had never seen in his boss' eyes before.

"This is one of the rare times I mixed personal matters with professional ones. I never lied to Jocelyn about who I was, she knew everything there was to know about me, both the good and the bad. But I wasn't careful about it. I didn't protect her, thinking that my name was protection enough.

Clary was ill with chickenpox the night of the charity, and Jocelyn told me to stay with our daughter because as common as it was for a five-year-old, she had never been sick before, and she was scared. I didn't think much of it and stayed home, not sending a single man to go with her.

The police broke the news to me a few hours later, saying that there had been a fire in the kitchen that quickly spread and destroyed everything. I didn't think much of it either, blaming fate. For a week I was a mess, locked in my room, away from everyone. I didn't go to her funeral, I didn't speak to a single soul.

And then Hodge barged in. He was not very happy. Mostly because of Clary. She was crying all the time, no one able to comfort her, and she refused to eat, refused to sleep and to listen to anyone. Hodge told me some very harsh words that night that will forever stay branded in my brain. I might have lost a wife, but Clary was losing both her parents because I didn't help her with her grief.

So I swallowed my sorrow, and went to comfort my daughter …"

As Valentine took a small break in his tale, Jace furrowed his brows. This was not making sense. Clarissa always said that Valentine never talked about her mother. And Valentine had started his story by telling Jace that he would rather have his daughter resent him than hate him. He thought about it for a moment, when it suddenly became as clear as water to him.

"She died because of you," He whispered, not sure if he was talking to his boss, or to himself; Valentine nodded.

"She did. Hodge told me two days later that he had hired some people to look into the fire, and found out that it'd been an arson. At that time, I had one big rival in the drug business, and because of my sorrow, I had stopped any sort of business, giving my opponent a perfect opportunity to cease every drug deals he could lay his hands on.

The man did not last, neither did his men. I was rather sadistic with them and took my time enjoying their slow death.

But … I never managed to talk about Jocelyn with Clary. I couldn't talk to her about the person that she would never get to see again because of me, especially when it's so painful for me to talk about her. And most importantly, I couldn't tell my daughter who saw me as the best person in the world, who loved me to the moon and back, that her mother was dead because of my own actions. I couldn't … And as the years continue to pass, I still can't. I won't be able to take her hate, her sadness, her disappointment."

Jace did not say a word as Valentine lost his gaze into space once more. Instead, he got up and went upstairs to his office. There, he took his phone out of his pockets, ignoring Jordan's texts, along with many others, and connected it to the printer so he could print one specific document out of his phone. Once it was done, he went back downstairs, finding Valentine in the same position he'd left him in. He rested a comforting hand on the man's shoulder before letting him know,

"You should go home, Valentine. Dawn is almost upon us, and your daughter will have much to tell you in the morning. Go get some rest."

Then, he gave the older man the piece of paper he had just printed. It was the picture he had taken of Clarissa next to her mother's photo in ISSH before going back upstairs, leaving Valentine alone, holding a picture that he never thought he would ever get to hold in his hands.

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

Jace walked through the lobby of his building, thinking that he would indulge himself with the elevator ride. He had just come back from Washington, and from two days without getting any sleep, he was feeling like his mind and body were about to break. Which he thought was weird, considering that he normally barely slept four hours at night. Jordan told him that it was because his body was used to getting sleep, even if it was a little, and since he slept so little normally, he had no reserve of energy to go on. To this, Jace didn't argue much, even if he didn't agree. He didn't have the strength to do so.

It had been two months since he came back from Japan, and finally, things were starting to have their normal rhythm again. For the past couple of months, Jace had had to deal with many things that made him regret having gone to Japan. Little things that Valentine didn't concern himself with anymore, entrusting them to Jace, and they had been unlooked after during the three weeks that he'd been gone.

At some point, Jace admitted his mistake to Valentine (after having taken care of each of them), and Valentine had all but laughed at him. He had told Jace that it was a test and that Jace acted like a rookie. He taught Jace that even if he was on a trip (regardless of it being for leisure), it didn't mean that he could forget about all of his other duties. Either he had someone he completely trusted to take over or he handled things from a long distance. And Jace swore to himself to never make that mistake again.

Now, he was back from Washington where he had been working with a promising young man that he hoped he would be able to lure into his web, so he could place him in New York to replace Malachi. Valentine had followed Jace's advise and cut ties with Malachi, who took the news rather badly. He refocused his whole campaign against 'rich corporations with shady past', losing a big part of his electorate. Either people didn't like his new course of action or people didn't like that he changed his course of action, to begin with.

But now, Jace was more than certain that Will Herondale would come to New York within the next month. Within the next week if he upped the ante with his convincing. The young lad had just finished an internship at the White House and had been planning on staying in DC, instead of coming back to his native New York. But Jace had worked on Will Herondale, to the point of wearing the both of them out, and now, Jace knew that Valentine would soon have a new politician in his pocket.

The elevator's doors were about to close, when a foot slipped in between the small gap, activating the sensors, and forcing the doors to reopen. Jace stopped himself from grunting in impatience, not liking the thought of sharing the elevator ride with anyone, but his breath caught in his throat when he saw Clarissa standing in front of him. For a few seconds, they both simply stared at one another, until the doors started closing again, and Clarissa swiftly entered the elevator, before turning so her back would be facing Jace.

And all Jace could do was stare at the redhead, feeling like his mind was going numb.

For the past couple of months, they hadn't seen each other, not even a glimpse. Jace often went to the mansion to either see Valentine or pick him up to go someplace. But Clarissa was never around to be seen or was simply in her bedroom. And Jace had to admit … he more often than not thought of her.

Two weeks after they got back to Japan, Jordan took Jace to a bar he quite liked to pick up girls, and Jace had jumped on the occasion because he was starting to realize that he was thinking of this 'fantasy' he'd had in Japan more than he should've been. He got himself a girl, but she never really aroused him, and the more he thought of bringing her home, the less he liked the idea. So he simply pleasured her in a dark corner of the bar and went back home alone to his fantasy.

And this was when he realized that he missed the redhead. Of course, he missed her sexually, what was there not to miss? But he missed the person more. He missed how she was so carefree, he missed her smile, he missed her smart mouth, and he missed her beautiful green eyes and her perfect ass. But most of all, he missed feeling her in the curve of his arms at night.

For a brief second, he wondered what she was doing on her own, without anyone around her to protect her. After Valentine's little talk about his late wife, Jace understood why Valentine was so paranoid about his daughter's safety. But then, he recalled that the Lightwoods lived in the same building as him and that Clarissa often visited her best friend. When she did so, Magnus simply dropped her off at the entry of the building since Clarissa had managed to negotiate that part with her father.

Suddenly, Jace reached for the emergency stop button, and halted the elevator, making them bounce a little at the sudden stop. Clarissa turned a curious look at him, and all he could do was stare at the fact that he had missed so much over the last couple of months.

"I miss you," he whispered, not even conscious of his words before they escaped his mouth. Clarissa narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not believing him before she turned her back to Jace to face the closed doors again.

"No, you don't. You miss the sex."

"You think I can't land a girl if I want to? Don't tell me what I miss and don't miss. It's you that I miss," Jace said in a voice curter than he had intended. He noticed the way her back went rigid and how she was picking under the nails of her left hand.

"Look at me, Clarissa," He pleaded, and she spun on her heel, glaring at him as she hissed between her gritted teeth,

"You miss me, and yet you keep calling me by my full name!"

This accusation took Jace by surprise, mostly because he never called Clarissa by her nickname, out of respect. She never asked for it, so he never did it, thinking that it was a way for her to distance herself from him. And now, this little gesture of reverence he had for her was turning against him. So he took her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him, and told her,

"I miss you, Clary. I miss your smile, I miss your jokes, and I miss having your body in my arms when I wake up. I simply miss you."

She looked away, refusing to hold his gaze and stepped back, muttering as Jace let go of her, "Izzy is going to wonder what's taking so long."

At those words, Jace also took a step back, and unstopped the elevator, wondering what had taken over him. He never planned for this conversation to happen, and he didn't like how for a split second, he'd felt … vulnerable. Especially when he was saying words that weren't returned.

The numbers went up, taking them closer to their different floors when Clary suddenly stopped the elevator. She turned to face Jace, her green eyes soft and hesitant as she told him,

"I miss you too, Jace … But … I know where your loyalty lies, and I don't want my father to become an issue like it usually is."

"You're right," Jace admitted, a lump growing in his throat. He couldn't think of starting anything with the daughter of the man who trusted him with his own life.

Jace was about to release the button once again when once again, his actions went further than his thoughts. He bent a little to kiss the redhead, and only released the button when she responded to him by kissing him back, jumping in his arms.

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

When Jace woke the next morning, a grin stretched across his face before he'd even opened his eyes, and he snuggled Clary closer to his chest. She barely stirred, still lost in the land of dreams, and he opened his eyes to see the thing he missed the most. Clary sleeping in his arms. Softly, he caressed the angles of her face, brushing away the loose hairs that had escaped her bun, but his state of glee was suddenly interrupted when he heard noises in his apartment.

Silently, he reached for his gun, getting out of the bed without waking up the redhead and he walked soundlessly to the door of his bedroom. He was about to open it when it swung open.

The familiar intruder lost his words when they came face to face, before his light brown eyes went to the bed where Clary was still sleeping, oblivious to the two men at the door. The man, who was older than Jace, analyzed the bed, and seeing that there was nothing he could tell of the girl since she was concealed by the blanket, he looked around the room. When his eyes landed on the pile of clothes on the chair, his brown eyes quickly jumped back to Jace, who was shirtless.

There was a moment of silence before the truth was uttered, "You're a dead man!"