Chapter 234 - 0234: Is This A Threat?

Chapter 234: Chapter 0234: Is This A Threat?

Elena’s Point Of View

A gasp escaped me.

It slipped out before I could stop it, sharp and disbelieving, my hand tightening around his arm as if that alone could anchor me to reality. My mind scrambled to catch up with what I’d just heard, the words echoing and refusing to settle into anything that made sense. I replayed them, hoping I’d misheard, hoping my imagination had conjured something crueler than the truth. It hadn’t.

"Are you kidding me?" I blurted, staring up at him like I’d just discovered he spoke an entirely different language from the rest of humanity. "Jaxx... what the hell is wrong with you?"

His smile widened, slow and deliberate, like my outrage was a familiar tune he enjoyed humming along to. There was no shame in it, no flicker of apology, only amusement, as though my horror delighted him more than it should have. He stepped closer, invading my space without warning, without asking, and one second there was air between us, the next his hands were looping around my waist, warm and firm, settling there like they belonged. Like they’d always belonged. The audacity of it stole whatever argument I’d been building.

My body betrayed me instantly, my hands rising on instinct, fingers curling into his arms, gripping fabric and muscle, something solid. Not because I wanted to cling and not because I was weak, but because my brain was still catching up to the fact that this man had just casually discussed sending someone to meet their ancestors before breakfast.

The absurdity of it all pressed against my ribs, equal parts fury and disbelief, and underneath that, something I refused to name. My thoughts tangled, torn between wanting to push him away and needing something steady to hold onto while the ground beneath me seemed to tilt.

"You’re unbelievable," I muttered, my heart still racing, my pulse loud in my ears. "Do you hear yourself when you talk? Or does everyone else just... translate the insanity for you?"

He chuckled under his breath, low and amused, his thumbs pressing lightly into my waist as if grounding me now. "You’re overreacting."

I scoffed. "You threatened to erase a human being."

"Correction," he said smoothly. "I threatened to relocate him."

I stared at him long and hard, searching for some flicker of remorse, some sign that he understood how insane he sounded. I found none, only that same infuriating calm, as if morality were a language he’d simply never bothered to learn. "I hate you," I said flatly.

His eyes lit up like I’d just complimented him, and somehow that made everything worse.

Before I could say anything else, the sound of an engine pulled up behind me, smooth and expensive and controlled, tires kissing the curb softly and precisely. I stiffened, half-turning, already exhausted, as a man stepped out with an immaculate suit and respectful movements. He didn’t even glance my way properly, his focus entirely on Jaxx, and he came around with keys already in hand and stopped just behind me.

"Your keys, sir," he said, extending them with both hands, a slight bow following, professional and deferential.

Sir. The word landed differently this time, heavier somehow, carrying weight I hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t just a title; it was an acknowledgment of something larger, something I was only beginning to glimpse.

Jaxx released one hand from my waist just long enough to take the keys, nodding once. "Good timing." The man dipped his head again and walked off without another word, disappearing as quietly as he’d arrived, with no questions and no curiosity and no hesitation. I watched him go, something uneasy settling in my stomach at how easily people seemed to bend around Jaxx, as though resistance simply didn’t occur to them. It wasn’t fear exactly, not in the way I understood fear, but something closer to reverence, and that unsettled me even more.

I turned back to Jaxx slowly, studying his face like I was seeing him for the first time all over again. The casual dominance, the way people moved around him like gravity applied differently in his presence, the way danger followed him like a shadow he didn’t bother hiding. It should have terrified me more than it did, and that realization frightened me almost as much as he did. I searched for the man beneath all that control, wondering if he even existed anymore, or if the mask had long since become the face.

"What exactly are you?" I asked quietly.

His gaze softened, not much but just enough to unsettle me, and his hands tightened slightly at my waist, pulling me a fraction closer. For a heartbeat, something almost vulnerable passed behind his eyes, there and gone before I could name it.

"Someone who doesn’t like being interrupted," he replied. Then, with a smirk, "Especially when I was in the middle of something."

I swallowed, my mouth opening, a dozen arguments lining up at once... anger, fear, logic, pride, but none of them came out right away. Because standing there wrapped in his arms, with the morning sun climbing higher and the street pretending nothing extraordinary had just happened, I didn’t know where we stood or what game he was playing or why part of me wanted to shove him away while another part wanted to stay exactly where I was.

The conflict twisted in my chest, uncomfortable and confusing, refusing to resolve itself no matter how hard I tried to think my way out of it. I hated how natural it felt to be close to him, how my body seemed to trust him long before my mind ever would.

He tilted his head, eyes searching mine, voice dropping just enough to pull my attention fully back to him.

"So," Jaxx murmured, thumb brushing lightly at my side, casual and intimate all at once, "where were we, Bambina?"

I stared at him, and my brain stalled fully, like someone had yanked the cord out of the wall and left sparks jumping where logic was supposed to be. His face was too close, his hands too steady, his tone far too relaxed for a man who had just ordered someone’s possible erasure from existence. Words piled up in my head but none of them made it to my mouth, and my lips parted slightly and then closed again, the silence stretching long enough to feel like surrender.

Jaxx noticed, of course he did, and his eyes flicked to my mouth for half a second, something dark and unreadable tightening there before his expression shifted into slow, predatory amusement.

"Speechless?" he asked softly. "That’s rare for you."

I swallowed, still not answering, my chest rising a little faster than it should, and the street felt suddenly too open and too exposed, like the whole world could see how off-balance I was. I wanted to look away, to break whatever spell had settled over us, but I couldn’t quite manage it, caught somewhere between defiance and something far more dangerous.

And then, without warning, he moved. One moment I was standing in front of him, the next my back met cold metal with a solid thud. The car, his car, sleek and black and unforgiving, and his body followed immediately, caging me in, one arm braced beside my head, the other still firm at my waist. The world narrowed to the warmth of him, the heat of his breath, the impossible closeness of it all.

A gasp tore out of me, sharp and uncontrolled, my hands flattening against his chest out of pure reflex, my pulse slamming so hard it felt like it might bruise from the inside.

"What are you doing, Jaxx?" I blurted.

His head dipped slightly, breath brushing my cheek, his voice dropping lower. "Do you know what your gasp does to me? You should limit how many times you do that, Bambina. It’s... distracting."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Are you insane?"

A corner of his mouth twitched. "Frequently."

Despite myself, a breathy, incredulous laugh escaped me. "You just threatened to kill someone and now you’re flirting with me against a car like this is a bad movie scene."

"I never flirt," he said smoothly. "I’m very intentional."

"That is not reassuring."

His eyes held mine, dark and unblinking, the humor fading just a fraction, and the street noise seemed to dim around us... no honking, no footsteps, just the hum of the engine cooling behind me and the weight of him in front of me. My hands curled slightly in his shirt, and I hated that my body reacted faster than my morals, hated how easily he seemed to unravel every careful thought I tried to hold onto. It frightened me how quickly the line between fear and want could blur in his presence.

"Let him go," I said suddenly, the words tumbling out before I could second-guess them. "Jaxx."

The shift in him was immediate and subtle but unmistakable. His jaw tightened and his brows drew together just slightly, like I’d challenged a rule he never expected me to question.

"And why should I do that?" he asked, his voice still calm, but harder now, sharper around the edges. "He was about to touch you. No other man but me gets to have that. Any other one deserves his hands to be cut off."

He said it like it was a perfectly reasonable conclusion, and I stared at him, really stared, this infuriating, dangerous, impossibly self-assured man pinning me to a car like he owned gravity itself. Something in his conviction chilled me, yet some reckless part of me couldn’t help but wonder what it meant to be wanted so fiercely, so irrationally. It terrified me how much I wanted to understand that feeling rather than run from it.

"You don’t get to decide that," I snapped. "You don’t get to decide who lives, who dies, who touches, who breathes..."

"I do," he interrupted quietly.

The certainty in his voice sent a chill down my spine. For a moment neither of us spoke, the air between us crackling, thick with something volatile... attraction tangled with fear, dominance colliding with defiance. I felt the pull of him, dangerous and magnetic, and hated how hard I had to fight against it, how every nerve in my body seemed to argue against the very protest leaving my mouth.

I searched his face, looking for the line, the place where reason lived.

"Jaxx," I said again, slower this time, firmer. "Look at me."

He did, fully, and for the first time since all this started, I saw hesitation flicker there, brief and almost invisible, but real. It gave me something to hold onto, a thread of hope that maybe, somewhere beneath all that arrogance, reason still existed, buried but not entirely lost.

I took a breath. "You don’t get to hurt people because of me. You don’t get to turn my existence into an excuse for violence."

His hand at my waist tightened reflexively. "He crossed a line."

"And you’re about to bulldoze ten more," I shot back. "Is that who you are? Because if it is, you should tell me now."

His eyes narrowed. "Is this a threat?"

I shook my head. "It’s a boundary." The word hung between us, heavy and fragile all at once, and I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze head-on, my voice steady even though my heart was still racing, refusing to let the tremor in my chest reach my words.

"Let him go, Jaxx," I said clearly, every syllable deliberate. "Else I won’t talk to you again."