Chapter 35
Jasper frowned at the two men waiting outside his apartment building, blocking the stairwell leading to his front door. Both wore black suits and mirrored sunglasses, the kind of look that screamed authority—or trouble.
“What do you want?” he demanded, squaring his shoulders.
His voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t back down.
He needed to get inside, grab a sandwich, and get to the library for his shift.
His homework was already done—Jasper finished everything during study hall like usual.
Jemma didn’t know that he’d picked up extra hours this week, but he figured if he could at least pay for Jayla’s formula or part of the electricity bill, she might finally stop looking so tired all the time.
The weight of their mother’s death still hung over everything. Even with the medical debt finally gone, daycare costs were brutal. Jayla was worth every cent, but Jemma had done it all alone for over a year. It was time Jasper stepped up.
“I said, what do you want?” he asked again, a little louder this time.
His heart pounded in his chest. Were these guys gang members?
They were big enough. Broad, muscled, with the kind of silent intensity that screamed danger.
But the tailored suits... they didn’t match the usual thugs that hung around at the street corners.
The older of the two men stepped forward. “We’re with Prince Saif’s security detail. We’ve been instructed to escort you to his residence.”
Jasper blinked. “Prince who?”
“Prince Saif Al-Sintra of Lativa,” the man replied without hesitation. “He’s the father of Princess Jayla Al-Sintra.”
Jasper’s jaw nearly hit the sidewalk. Jayla? The tiny, squealing bundle who loved bubble baths and gumming plastic toys? His Jayla was a princess?
He glanced around, expecting someone with a camera to leap out and shout, You’ve been pranked!
“Yeah, okay.” He rolled his eyes. “Try that one on someone who didn’t just get out of algebra. I need to grab something and get going.”
The two men exchanged a look, and the first man pulled out a key. “We have clearance to open the apartment if needed. But we can wait while you pack.”
“Wait, wait, wait—this is real?” Jasper asked, his voice cracking again, this time from disbelief. “This isn’t a joke?”
“No, sir,” the second guard replied. “Prince Saif asked us to retrieve you and your niece. His parents and sister are arriving shortly. It’s important to him that you’re all together.”
Jasper's heart was thudding now. He remembered Saif mentioning a house—an actual house, not this cramped apartment with flickering lights and peeling linoleum. Saif had offered. But Jemma had looked like she might be sick at the thought.
Still... “And Jayla?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“She’s due for pickup at six-fifteen, but the prince requested we bring her early. We’ll go straight from here.”
They were serious. Dead serious.
Still suspicious, Jasper yanked out his phone and hit his sister’s contact. She answered on the second ring.
“Jasper?” Her voice was breathless, worried. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said quickly. Then, lowering his voice so the guards wouldn’t hear, he added, “But there are two giant goons standing outside saying I’m supposed to go with them.”
There was a pause—then laughter. “Those are Saif’s bodyguards,” Jemma said, amusement laced with disbelief. “He told me they’d be there to pick you and Jayla up.”
Jasper stepped farther away and cupped a hand around the phone. “Do you think we should do it, Jemma? Like... actually go?” She was quiet for a moment, but before he could respond, she continued. “Do you think it’s safe?” she asked finally, her voice soft, uncertain.
“Yes,” he said immediately. “Yes to all of it.”
He risked a glance at the two men again. Still standing there, patiently waiting. “Why wouldn’t we take this, Jem? He’s offering help. Real help.”
Another pause. Then: “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “It just... feels too easy.”
“You don’t trust good luck,” he murmured. “You never have.”
She exhaled sharply, a small, broken sound that made his chest ache.
“But Jemma,” he continued, “you’re a good person. And Saif—he adores you. Anyone can see that. And maybe it’s finally okay to say yes when someone offers you something real.”
Another silence. Jasper rolled his eyes. Of course Saif hadn’t told her how he felt—idiot.
“Okay,” he said into the phone, voice flat. “I’m going to go with these guys. If you don’t hear from me soon, call the cops.”
Before Jemma could argue—before she could say something like good luck doesn’t come to people like us—he hung up.
He turned to the two suited men, squinting up at them with narrowed eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”
The older one actually chuckled. “No, sir.”
Jasper stared at him for another long second. They didn’t look like kidnappers. Too clean. Too calm. But that’s probably what good kidnappers wanted you to think.
Still...
“Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s go get my niece.”
He pivoted and walked back, not even bothering to grab a sandwich. If these guys were planning to abduct him and Jayla, he wasn’t about to be weighed down by yet another peanut butter sandwich. Better to be ready to run. Or fight.
As they headed toward the elevator, a strange thought crept in.
I don’t really believe it either.
This wasn’t some fairytale. This wasn’t a glass slipper moment or a long-lost royalty plot twist. This was real life. And real life didn’t hand people like him and Jemma castles and second chances.
They were too alike, he thought grimly. Two stubborn, scrappy survivors waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Still... he pressed the elevator button and waited.
Maybe, just maybe, today the other shoe wouldn’t drop.