Fingers like iron claws rake through your hair, jerking your head back painfully. You gasp, struggling to catch your breath, your body yanked to your knees. The rough concrete scrapes against your skin, burning with every inch of contact. Pain pulses through your limbs, but it’s not the physical ache that consumes you—it’s the humiliation, the helplessness that makes your stomach twist.

Boots scrape against the ground, and you don’t need to look up to know who’s there. Red Hood. His presence is suffocating, filling the space with a sense of inevitability. The bodyguards Black Mask entrusted to protect you are sprawled around him, bloodied and unconscious. Jason’s ruthless efficiency is evident, each of them left broken in his wake. And you? You're caught in the aftermath, the center of his game.

Jason’s gaze scans the scene, his eyes cold and calculating. There's something darker in his posture, the way he stands over the fallen guards, as though this is all part of his plan. He’s not just here to fight. He’s here to send a message. The bodyguards meant something to Black Mask—they were his personal protection, a symbol of the lengths he would go to for his child. And Jason knows exactly how to use that against him.

"Black Mask’s weak spot is showing," Jason’s voice breaks the silence, low and deliberate. The words hang heavy, the implication clear. Black Mask’s protective instincts are a vulnerability, a crack in his empire. The crime lord may be ruthless, but the love he has for his child is something Jason plans to exploit, to unravel Black Mask from the inside out.

Jason’s gaze never leaves you, an unnerving stillness to him as he watches, waiting. He knows what Black Mask’s affection for you could cost him, and he’s ready to twist that knife. But you won’t let him. You won’t let this be his victory.

You refuse to be a pawn in this game. You won’t let Red Hood use your father’s feelings as leverage. Not like this.