Chapter 17: Jason’s Family Interferes

Chapter 17: Jason's Family Interferes

Elena

The invitation had been unexpected.

Jason had barely reacted when the message came through. A simple directive: Dinner. 8 PM. Sinclair Estate. No explanation. No request—just a demand.

Elena had watched his face tighten, his usual cold composure slipping for a fraction of a second before he masked it again. He hadn't wanted to go, but something told her he had no choice.

Now, seated at a long, polished mahogany table in the grand dining hall of the Sinclair family estate, Elena understood why. The atmosphere was oppressive, the massive crystal chandelier above casting an artificial glow over the tension-laden room. The walls were adorned with expensive paintings, but the true centerpiece of the room was the man sitting at the head of the table—Philip Sinclair.

Jason's father was a man of quiet dominance, his presence alone enough to set anyone on edge. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly combed back, his suit sharp, his expression unreadable. He exuded control, the kind that made it clear he wasn't a man used to being challenged.

Jason inclined his head slightly. "Father."

Philip Sinclair barely spared him a glance before his sharp gaze settled on Elena.

Jason's voice remained even, controlled. "This is my wife, Elena."

Elena straightened, meeting Philip's assessing gaze. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sinclair."

Philip smirked slightly. "I would say the same, but I don't believe in pleasantries. Especially not when they're forced."

Elena kept her expression neutral, but inside, she couldn't help but question the absurdity of this moment. Why did she even need to be introduced to Jason's father? Their marriage wasn't real. In less than a year, she would walk away, and this family—this legacy—would mean nothing to her. And yet, here she was, being scrutinized as though she had any real stake in Jason's life.

Jason's jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his body coiled tight beside her.

Philip lifted his glass of wine, his gaze settling on Jason. "I suppose I should congratulate you. Marriage is quite the commitment."

Jason's posture remained rigid. "I doubt you called us here for pleasantries, Father."

Philip smirked, swirling his wine. "Always so impatient." His gaze flicked to Elena again, assessing, before returning to his son. "I hear your business is thriving."

Jason's jaw ticked. "It is."

Philip set his glass down. "I wonder… how much of that success is truly yours? And how much of it is simply a desperate attempt to prove you don't need me?"

Elena's fingers curled into her lap. She had expected hostility, but the sheer precision of Philip's words made it clear—this wasn't a dinner. It was a battlefield. And Jason was the target.

Jason exhaled sharply, his voice cold. "Whatever I've built, I did it without you."

Philip chuckled. "Did you? Then why does everything you touch follow the same patterns as mine? Ruthless business takeovers. Unrelenting control." He paused, swirling his wine again before meeting Jason's eyes with a knowing smirk. "And, of course, a marriage built on terms rather than love."

Jason's fingers stiffened against the table.

Philip let out a quiet laugh. "You look surprised. Did you really think I wouldn't find out? Marriage is a powerful strategic tool in the business world, Jason, but it's also a weakness if mishandled. Your legal affairs are always of interest to those watching, and when I heard about your convenient wedding, I did some digging."

Elena remained composed, though a flicker of unease ran through her. Had Philip uncovered the entire truth, or was he simply drawing his own conclusions? Either way, Jason's expression remained unreadable.

Philip sighed, leaning back. "Your empire might be impressive, Jason, but if you don't learn from my mistakes, you'll find that a contract is just as fragile as trust. And we both know how easily trust is broken."

Jason's expression darkened. "We're done here."

Philip raised his glass once more, a mock toast. "Fight me all you want, Jason, but you'll never escape me. You're my son, and that means no matter how far you run, you'll always be standing in my shadow."

Elena

The ride back to the penthouse was silent. Jason's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his entire body wound like a coil ready to snap. Elena had seen him cold, controlled, even ruthless—but never like this.

She hesitated before reaching out, placing a hand over his clenched fist. He flinched but didn't pull away.

"I don't care what your father says," she murmured. "You don't owe him anything."

Jason exhaled sharply, his fingers loosening just slightly. "You don't understand, Elena."

"Then help me understand."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he murmured, "My mother didn't leave us. My father broke her. And when she had nothing left… she died."

Elena's breath caught.

Jason's jaw was tight, his grip flexing against the wheel. "She loved him. She gave him everything, even when he didn't deserve it. And when he tore her apart, there was nothing left to hold onto." He let out a slow, shuddering breath. "I was twelve when she died." He fell silent, his throat working as though he wanted to say more but couldn't bring himself to.

Elena studied his profile, the shadows casting sharp angles across his face. His past was far more complicated than he let on, and she could sense that there was more he wasn't telling her. Something had happened after his mother's death, something that had severed whatever remained of his family.

She wanted to ask. Wanted to press for answers. But for now, she held back.

Elena's own thoughts tangled. Why did it matter to her so much? This marriage was a contract, nothing more. She had no real claim on Jason or his pain. And yet, something inside her ached for him. A part of her wanted to reach into the wounds of his past and offer something—comfort, understanding, something she had no business offering.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and squeezed his hand.

And this time, Jason didn't let go.