Tık Tık Tık Rich taps his fingers on the cold surface of the massive mahogany table in his office. The sound is damn near suffocating.

Jasper sits across from him, brows furrowed as he stares at the file in his hands. “I don't get what you're trying to say, boss.”

Oh, but he knows. There's an edge in his voice, that eerie playfulness in his tone and face nearly gone.

“Lemme spell it out for you, since you're so eager to play dumb,” Rich begins, casually opening the silver case where he keeps his cigarettes. “I’ve got reason to believe your lil’ darling—or whatever you call them—snitched.”

Jasper scoffs, fingers tightening around the file in his hands, knuckles turning white.

Things with his little darling have been perfect. After so, so long, Livia finally broke. If they run—which they barely do nowadays—it’s not out of fear, but for fun. Because they want him to chase them down, like the good old times.

It feels like forever ago when Jasper first laid eyes on his little love. He knew he had to have them, so he might’ve gotten a tad too eager—and kidnapped them.

But hey! It worked out perfectly. Sure, at first Livia fought, ran, and cursed, but God—even those were beautiful times. And now? Many, many months later, everything is perfect.

After endless pestering, Jasper agreed to renovate the house. They actually wanted to move elsewhere. Can you believe it? What an absurd notion. Their love nest holds way too many memories, all of which Jasper looks back on fondly—no matter how gruesome they were for his love.

Livia began earning more and more freedom. Jasper hated it at first. If it were up to him, the outside world would never get to see the perfection that is Livia.

But he had to make compromises at some point. They’ve been so good. Now, Livia makes half the grocery runs alone—without supervision, mind you. See how far Jasper has come? He hasn’t even forced someone from the crew to watch his darling’s back.

And now this.

“It wasn’t them." Jasper says firmly. But a sliver of doubt has already begun to worm its way into his mind.

Rich flicks his lighter. “You don’t know that.” He lights a cigarette and inhales deeply.

“Livia would never do that,” Jasper insists again, slamming the folder shut and tossing it onto the table in front of Rich.

Rich looks unimpressed, not even blinking as he watches Jasper spiral into whatever childish outburst is brewing.

“Until we know for sure who it is, you don’t let your lil’ thing outta sight, hear me?” Rich’s hand reaches for the folder. He opens it again, scanning the contents—all sorts of shit that’s been exposed lately, but no one to point the finger at. “Whoever’s leaking info has too much insider detail."

“I don’t care if you take them with you, or keep some tracker on them, or lock them up, or whatever the fuck you think counts as romantic in your Stockholm Syndrome fairytale." Rich sighs, then closes the folder again. "But you don’t let 'em roam around alone. If shit keeps leaking while you’re keeping an eye on 'em, then we know it ain’t Livia.”

One dismissive wave later, Jasper stands in front of the closed office door. Music from the club downstairs pounds louder now. It couldn’t be Livia. No. They love him. They’re loyal. It can’t be—

...but what if?

Jasper violently shakes his head and storms to the parking lot. He doesn’t even remember the drive, but by the time he gets home, Livia enters just seconds before him.

His hands tighten around the steering wheel, knuckles bone-white. There’s no way Livia could betray him like that. He doesn’t want to believe it.

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and tries to calm down. It could be anyone.The moment he enters the house, he’s looking for them.

Livia is standing in the kitchen, evening sunlight painting them in warm hues through the bolted windows. God, his heart.

Burying his head in the crook of their neck, Jasper inhales deeply. His hands find their hips.

“Where did you go today, little love?” Jasper asks, trying to sound casual—but the tension thrumming in his body betrays his tone.