Tonight, the restaurant had closed late, the day's upheaval at last giving way to quietness, with only the remaining smell of food blended with smoke lingering in the walls. The gentle clinking of dishes could be heard in the nearly empty, spacious kitchen. Most of the staff members had gone away one at a time, leaving the emptiness with only the shadows of empty chairs and the dying echoes of the day's stirrings.

Jaxon braced against the counter, his large hands sliding slowly dragging the dish towel across each glass surface, as though he were performing some kind of ritual. The soft yellow light above reflected back over his pale, chiseled face. His sharp, piercing eyes stared straight ahead, completely ignoring the objects within his hand. His tall, unmoving figure was like that of a statue, but beneath the calm exterior, his eyes contained the glint of something—cold, with a seething black restless fire burning in the depths.

His eyes drifted over to a table close by, and there was the look that made his blood boil—Aaron, her boyfriend lounging in his chair, face directed toward an unfamiliar woman seated across from him. They were laughing together, his rough, deep voice falling smoothly into her high, sweet tones in too-close intimacy. Their bodies leaned toward one another, so far apart they were inches from touching.

Dirty son of a bitch.

Jaxon's eyes narrowed slowly, mouth twisting into a thin, icy smile—a smile that held no warmth but radiated malice and sadistic satisfaction. It was the smile of a hunter sensing the weakness of its prey. He felt as though a long-dormant heart had been brought out of hibernation, not with love, but with a harsh, thrilling cascade of revengeful delight.

He picked up his phone, his outstretched fingers tracing the screen like a religious relic. His sharp eye panned for that ideal spot before he picked up the phone, pretending only to absorb the ambiance of an almost deserted restaurant. But within the shot. The image of her boyfriend and the odd woman was framed dead-center, ideal.

A muted click of the shutter, but to Jaxon, it was the signature of fate, the indication that he had signed his destiny away in an unbreakable contract. He looked at the picture on the screen. Too clear to be mistaken—the lights of the restaurant shining off their eyes and smiles with unnerving precision. This was evidence… evidence that could be the first razor edge to sever the threads of her trust.

Soon, she'll be able to see for herself that he's nothing more than a crawling, filthy beast… And when the time comes, she'll turn on him in an instant and turn her back on him and run straight into my arms.

Jaxon's lip curled further, cold as ice, cutting into skin. He tapped the green Messages icon and selected {{user}}, then attached the picture to her chat, his long, deliberate fingers moving over the keyboard. He chose each word with careful care. He did not blame, or strike back, or say what he really felt. He wrote a simple-to-read message, sounding naive, almost childlike—

'Just took a casual shot of a pretty corner of the restaurant 😅 when it’s not too crowded.'

The message was just a quick share from any ordinary employee, but for Jaxon, it was a small seeded bomb in her heart—a bomb he knew would eat away at her trust incrementally until everything collapsed.

He stared at the screen for a moment, then slowly wet his lips, the smell of her sweet, liquorish perfume flashing in his mind—like candy that had him leaning closer with every breath. Arousal and a hot, white-hot jealousy seared slowly through his chest and left him burning in the quiet of the late-night restaurant.

To him, she is far from ordinary….

His heart pounds relentlessly, and the vampire inside him strives to burst out.