Chapter One The Post That Started the War #3
That tiny shift in his eyes sent heat straight through her anger.
Makayla hated that too.
“You think this is funny?” she asked.
“No. I think you’re reckless. Proud. Too used to people thanking you for damage. And tonight, somebody gave you a match because they knew you liked fire.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Careful,” she said. “You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.”
“You know facts. That ain’t the same thing.”
Jarvis studied her then, really studied her, like that sentence had interested him.
“Fine,” he said. “Then here’s a fact. The woman in the silver dress was never at my lounge.”
“I know.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
Makayla hated giving him that. “I figured it out before I came down.”
“But after you posted.”
The words cut.
“Yes,” she said.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Jarvis reached into his coat again and pulled out a phone. He tapped the screen and turned it toward her.
A video played.
The woman in the silver dress walked through Obsidian Hall laughing, clearly awake, holding a champagne glass. A man beside her said something and she rolled her eyes. The clip had a date stamp from the same night as the photos Makayla posted.
Makayla watched her own mistake breathe in full color.
Jarvis stopped the video. “She’s alive. She’s fine. She left with her cousin and her driver. She also says she never met me.”
Makayla closed her eyes for half a second.
“Then why send me that?”
“That’s what you and I are going to find out.”
She opened her eyes. “Me and you?”
“Yes.”
A laugh broke from her. “You’re out your mind.”
“I’m out of patience.”
“I’m taking the post down.”
“That won’t be enough.”
“It’s a start.”
“It’s a confession without an explanation. Whoever fed you that lie will feed the city another one by morning. They’ll make you look paid, scared, or sloppy. Maybe all three.”
Makayla hated that he was right.
Jarvis slid his phone back into his coat. “You’re going to help me find the source.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“You will for now.”
“Or what?”
His face went still again.
That calm scared her more than a raised voice would have.
“Or I release your name, your address, and every private message tied to your page.”
Makayla’s fingers curled around the envelope until it bent.
“You’re dirty,” she said.
Jarvis leaned in slightly, his voice lower. “I never claimed clean.”
The space between them tightened.
Makayla could feel her heartbeat in her throat. She should have stepped back. She should have gone upstairs. She should have called someone, anyone, and put distance between herself and this man.
Instead, she held his stare.
Because fear had never known what to do with her.
“You release my aunt’s address,” she said slowly, “I’ll bury you in ways your lawyers can’t dig up.”
Something flashed in Jarvis’s eyes.
Respect, maybe.
Or warning.
“Good,” he said. “There she is.”
Makayla frowned. “What?”
“The woman behind the page. I was starting to think she only existed online.”
“I exist everywhere I choose.”
“No. Tonight you exist in my problem.”
“And you exist in mine.”
Jarvis looked down at her, rain misting across the shoulders of his coat. “Then we understand each other.”
Makayla’s phone buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled it out without taking her eyes completely off him.
Another unknown message waited on the screen.
Now that you two met, let’s really play.
A photo came through under it.
Makayla’s breath caught.
It was a picture of her standing outside with Jarvis at that exact moment.
Taken from across the street.
Jarvis saw her face change. “What?”
She turned the phone toward him.
His expression darkened.
For the first time since he arrived, Jarvis Draven looked truly angry.
His gaze lifted, scanning parked cars, rooftops, windows, shadows.
Makayla looked too, her skin prickling.
Whoever had done this was close.
Watching.
Enjoying.
Jarvis stepped closer to her, his body blocking part of hers from the street.
Makayla stiffened. “Move.”
“Be quiet.”
“I know you ain’t—”
“Somebody has a camera on us,” he said, voice sharp now. “Argue later.”
The shift in him was instant. From threat to shield. From enemy to something even more confusing.
His driver stepped out of the black car, one hand near his jacket. Jarvis gave him a small signal with two fingers. The driver looked around and moved toward the corner.
Makayla’s phone buzzed again.
Jarvis knows how to hide bodies. Ask him about Calia.
Makayla read the message twice.
“Who’s Calia?” she asked.
Jarvis’s jaw tightened.
That was answer enough.
Makayla gave a humorless smile. “Of course.”
He looked at her. “This is bigger than your post.”
“Seems like everything with you is bigger than what you admit.”
“Careful, Makayla.”
She stepped closer this time, close enough that the envelope pressed between them.
“No, you be careful. You came here with threats, but somebody is watching both of us. So either you tell me the truth, or you can take your little black car, your scary voice, and your expensive gloves back to whatever villain house you came from.”
Jarvis stared at her.
The rain made the city shine behind him.
Sirens wailed somewhere far away.
Then he smiled.
A small, dangerous smile.
“You got a mouth on you.”
“And you got secrets.”
“Plenty.”
“At least you honest about one thing.”
He leaned down, close enough for her to feel the heat of his words.
“You wanted to play dirty, Makayla.”
Her pulse jumped.
His eyes held hers, dark and steady.
“Now play with somebody better at it.”
Makayla should have hated the way that sounded.
She did hate it.
But underneath the hate was something hotter, darker, and much more dangerous.
Because the worst part about Jarvis Draven was that he scared her.
And the even worse part was that he made her want to step closer anyway.