Eliana Carter POV

The Little estate loomed over the neighborhood like a feudal fortress. It was a compound of iron gates, armed guards, and manicured lawns that smelled of old money and fresh blood.

I drove my car right up to the front entrance. The guards waved me through, their expressions deferential. They still thought I was the future lady of the house.

I snatched the box from the passenger seat, my grip tightening until the cardboard buckled.

Karen, Jax's mother, met me in the foyer. She was the quintessential Mafia wife-blind to the sins, focused entirely on the appearances.

"Eliana, darling," she said, reaching for my cheek with a perfectly manicured hand. "I heard there was a little accident at the gala. Are you alright?"

"Is he upstairs?" I asked, ignoring her touch.

Karen blinked, sensing the radiating tension. "Yes, but-"

I walked past her. I climbed the grand staircase, my footsteps heavy and deliberate on the marble.

I didn't bother to knock on the door to his suite. I shoved it open.

Jax was lounging on his leather sofa, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand.

But he wasn't alone.

Catalina was there. She was sitting on the edge of his desk, swinging her legs playfully.

She was wearing his football jersey. The one with 'LITTLE' emblazoned on the back.

In our world, wearing a man's jersey wasn't just a fashion choice; it was a claim. It was a territory marker.

She saw me and smirked, taking a slow sip from her own glass.

Jax looked up. He didn't look guilty. He looked bored.

"I told you to go home," he said, his voice flat.

I walked to the center of the room. I didn't look at Catalina. I refused to give her the satisfaction of an audience.

"I brought you something," I said.

I dumped the box onto the coffee table. The lid popped open. The photos spilled out like dirty secrets. The locket slid across the wood. The diamond engagement ring, a promise made by our fathers before we could speak, clattered loudly against the glass.

Jax stared at the ring. His jaw tightened.

"What is this drama, Eliana?"

"It's a return policy," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "I'm returning the goods. They're defective."

Catalina laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. "God, you're pathetic. Do you think he cares about your little scrapbook?"

"Shut up," I said calmly.

Jax stood up. He towered over me. He used his size to intimidate, a tactic that used to work when I still had a heart to break.

"Pick it up," he commanded.

"No."

"I said, pick it up."

"Trash it," I said. "Burn it. I don't care. It means nothing to me."

I turned to leave.

"You don't walk away from me!" Jax roared. He grabbed the box and hurled it toward the mezzanine railing.

It smashed against the banister, raining memories down into the foyer below in a shower of paper and metal.

"You are mine, Eliana! You don't get to decide when this is over!"

"It was over the moment you left me in that water," I said.

I walked out onto the landing.

Catalina followed me, her heels clicking aggressively on the floor. "You just don't get it, do you? He wants a woman, not a doll."

She stepped in front of me at the top of the stairs, blocking my path.

"Move," I said.

"Make me."

I tried to step around her. Catalina grabbed my arm. She yanked, trying to haul me back to face her.

But she underestimated her own balance in those stilettos.

She stumbled. Her grip on my arm tightened, dragging me down with her.

We fell.

The world spun into a blur of motion. My shoulder slammed into the railing. My knee hit the marble step with a sickening crack.

I tumbled down four steps before catching myself on the banister. Pain exploded up my leg, white-hot and blinding.

Catalina had landed on the landing, barely bruised. She immediately started screaming.

"She pushed me! Jax! She pushed me!"

Jax came running out of the suite.

I was clutching my knee, gasping for air, tears springing to my eyes from the sheer physical agony.

Jax didn't even look at me.

He rushed to Catalina, checking her for invisible scratches.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, his voice frantic.

"She's crazy!" Catalina sobbed, pointing a manicured finger at me. "She tried to kill me!"

Jax turned to me. His face was twisted in a rage I had never seen directed at me before.

"Get out!" he screamed. "Get out of my house before I forget who your father is!"

I pulled myself up using the railing, grit and adrenaline the only things keeping me upright. I couldn't put weight on my left leg.

"Jax," I gasped. "My knee..."

"I don't care!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "You're lucky I don't throw you down the rest of them. Get out!"

He turned his back on me. He helped Catalina up and walked her back into his room, slamming the door shut.

I stood there, balancing on one leg, the silence of the house ringing in my ears.

Karen was at the bottom of the stairs, hand over her mouth. She didn't move to help me. She knew better than to cross her son.

I limped down the rest of the stairs, each step a fresh torture. I walked out the front door.

I drove myself to the ER.

While I sat in the waiting room, icing my swollen knee, my phone buzzed.

It was a notification from Instagram.

Catalina had posted a photo. It was Jax, holding her on the sofa, kissing her temple.

Caption: My protector.

I looked at the screen.

The pain in my knee was sharp and real. But the pain in my chest was gone.

There was nothing left there to hurt.

Eliana Carter POV

Tyler's estate party was less of a social gathering and more of a mandatory summons for the junior circle. If you were under twenty-five and your last name carried weight in the Outfit, you were there.

Technically, I shouldn't have gone. My knee was heavily wrapped in an ACE bandage, hidden beneath the fabric of my wide-leg trousers. I was limping slightly, favoring the injury with every step.

But staying home would look like defeat. And I wasn't defeated. For the first time in years, I was liberated.

I stood by the bar, nursing a club soda while the whispers followed me like a cloud of gnats. Everyone knew about the pool. Everyone knew about the stairs.

"Eliana."

Mason Riley nodded at me as he approached. He was Jax's best friend, a Consigliere in training, and right now, he looked at me with unbearable pity. "You look... good."

"I am good, Mason," I said, keeping my voice even.

Then, the room went dead quiet.

Jax walked in. Catalina was draped on his arm. She was wearing a dress that cost more than my car-a gift from him, no doubt.

He scanned the room, hunting for me. When his eyes locked onto mine, he lifted his chin. A challenge.

He expected me to run. He expected me to cry.

Instead, I took a slow sip of my soda and turned back to Mason. "So, tell me about the new shipment."

Mason blinked, surprised by my dismissal. "Uh, yeah. Well..."

Jax didn't like that. He steered Catalina toward us, carving a violent path through the crowd.

"Enjoying the night?" Jax asked, stopping right behind me. His presence was a heavy weight against my back.

I turned slowly. "It's fine. A bit crowded."

"I heard you went to the hospital," he said. His tone wasn't concerned; it was probing. He was searching for cracks, wanting to know how much damage he had done.

"Just a sprain," I said breezily. "Nothing permanent."

"Unlike some things," Catalina chimed in, snuggling closer to him.

I looked at her, letting my gaze drag over her outfit. "Enjoy the jersey, Catalina. It's polyester. It doesn't breathe."

The circle around us stifled a laugh. Jax's eyes narrowed into slits.

"Let's play a game," someone shouted from the back. "Truth or Dare!"

It was a childish tradition, but in our world, the dares were dangerous, and the truths were ammunition.

We moved to the sunken living room. Jax sat directly across from me, with Catalina perched on his lap.

The bottle spun. It landed on Catalina.

"Truth or Dare?" Tyler asked.

"Dare," she purred.

Tyler grinned. He was drunk and messy. "I dare you to kiss the King of the night."

It was obvious who he meant. Jax was the highest-ranking male there.

Catalina pretended to be shy. She looked at me through her lashes. "Oh, I couldn't. It might upset Eliana."

The room went silent. They waited for my reaction. They waited for the jealousy, the rage, the tears.

I checked my watch, feigning boredom. "Why would I care?" I asked, my voice steady. "He's not my concern."

Jax stiffened. His ego took the hit like a physical blow. He was used to my adoration, my desperate need for his approval. Indifference was a language he didn't speak.

He seized Catalina's face.

Then, he kissed her.

It wasn't romantic. It was brutal. It was a display of ownership and dominance, meant to mark her and humiliate me. He ground his mouth against hers, making a show of it, his eyes open, staring right at me.

He was daring me to look away.

I didn't. I watched with the clinical detachment of a scientist observing a lab rat.

When he finally pulled away, Catalina was breathless and smeared with lipstick. Jax looked triumphant.

"She's a better fit anyway," Jax announced to the room, his voice loud. "A real woman knows how to please her man."

The insult hung in the air. It was a direct attack on my honor, implying I was inadequate.

Mason looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight. "Jax, maybe take it easy."

"Why?" Jax sneered. "Eliana doesn't mind. Do you, Ellie?"

He used the nickname only he was allowed to use.

I stood up. My knee throbbed, but I put all my weight on it, refusing to flinch.

"You're right, Jax," I said. "I don't mind. Because to be offended, I would have to value your opinion."

I grabbed my purse.

"And frankly," I added, looking him dead in the eye, "I don't think about you at all."

I walked away.

I felt his rage burning into my back, hotter than the kiss he had just shared. He had tried to break me publicly.

Instead, he had only proven that he was already broken.

Eliana Carter POV

I needed air.

The estate was suffocating, choked with the stench of expensive cologne and cheap morality. It clung to the back of my throat, making it hard to swallow.

I slipped down the hallway toward the guest bathroom, intending to splash cold water on my face to shock my system back into focus.

The door to the study was slightly ajar.

I heard voices.

"You went too far, man," Mason's voice drifted out, low and tense. "Disrespecting her like that in front of the crew? Her father is a made man."

"Her father answers to my father," Jax's voice cut in. It was arrogant, dismissive. "And Eliana answers to me."

I froze, my breath hitching in my chest. I pressed myself against the wall, making myself small.

"She's done, Jax," Mason said. "Did you see her eyes? She's checked out."

Jax laughed. It was a cold, cruel sound that scraped against my nerves.

"She's throwing a tantrum, Mason. That's all this is. She thinks she can freeze me out? Please. She's been obsessed with me since kindergarten."

I heard the clink of glass against crystal.

"I'm just teaching her a lesson," Jax continued, his tone smooth, conversational. "She needs to be broken a little. She was getting too comfortable, too demanding. I'll play with Catalina for a few weeks, let Eliana stew in her misery. When she's desperate enough, when she's begging for scraps, I'll take her back."

My stomach churned violently.

"You treat her like a dog," Mason said quietly.

"She's an asset," Jax replied. "High-value property, but property nonetheless. Once I break her spirit, she'll be the perfect wife. Silent. Obedient. Grateful."

I stopped breathing.

It wasn't just arrogance. It was a strategy. He was systematically trying to destroy my self-worth so I would never dream of leaving him.

I didn't go to the bathroom.

I turned around and walked straight out the back service entrance.

I walked home. It was three miles. The streets of our neighborhood were safe only because everyone knew who ran them, but walking alone at night was still a risk.

I didn't care. The danger on the streets felt cleaner than the danger in that house.

I limped the whole way, the pain in my knee a grounding rhythm. Left, right, pain. Left, right, pain.

He thought I was a dog. He thought he could kick me and I would come back licking his hand.

I reached my street. My house was dark, my parents likely asleep.

But there was a figure standing on my porch.

The streetlamp illuminated him.

Jax.

He hadn't driven past me. He had simply known where I would go. He had beaten me here.

He was holding a large, thick envelope.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I recognized the logo on the corner.

NYU.

It was my acceptance packet. The one Uncle Sal had expedited.

Jax looked at the envelope, then at me. His expression was unreadable, shadowed by the porch light.

"You're walking with a limp," he said.

"What are you doing here, Jax?"

He held up the envelope. "This came to the main secure mailbox at the compound. It was addressed to you."

He stepped closer, looming over me. "New York University?"

I didn't answer.

"We're going to UCLA," he said. "That's the plan. I run the West Coast operations. You run the house."

"That's your plan," I said.

"There is no other plan!" He slammed the envelope against his thigh. "What is this? Are you actually trying to run away?"

"I'm not running," I said, stepping onto the first step of the porch. "I'm leaving."

"You can't leave." He laughed, but there was an edge of panic in it. "You can't survive out there without me. Who's going to protect you? Who's going to pay for your life?"

"I'd rather starve than eat from your hand," I said.

I reached for the envelope.

He pulled it back out of reach. "You think this is a game? You think you can just apply to another school and disappear?"

"Give me my mail, Jax. It's a federal offense to tamper with it."

"I am the law here!" he shouted.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

He glared at me, breathing hard, then answered it without looking at the screen. "What?"

Catalina's voice was shrill, loud enough for me to hear through the speaker. "Jax! Baby! I think someone is following me! I'm scared! I'm at the gas station on 5th!"

It was a lie. No one followed Outfit associates unless they had a death wish.

Jax looked at me. Then he looked at the car.

He shoved the envelope into my chest. I grabbed it before it fell.

"We aren't done," he growled.

He turned and ran to his car, choosing the damsel in distress over the woman he was actively destroying.

I watched his taillights fade into the dark.

I looked down at the envelope. It was my ticket out of hell.

He thought we weren't done.

He was wrong. I was already gone.