Chapter 27: The Illusion of Control

Chapter 27: The Illusion of Control

Elena

Elena moved through the penthouse with practiced ease, her steps measured, her expression unreadable. Distance. That was her resolve. Last night had been a mistake—letting Jason get too close, feeling the pull of something dangerous. Something real.

She wouldn't let it happen again.

She poured herself coffee, her fingers steady despite the chaos within. Just as she brought the cup to her lips, she felt it—the weight of his gaze.

Jason sat at the dining table, phone in hand, but his sharp blue eyes were locked onto her. Assessing. Waiting. His presence was suffocating in its intensity, a silent demand she refused to acknowledge.

"You avoided me last night." His voice was low, controlled.

Elena took a measured sip. "I went to bed early."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "You're pulling away."

She forced a neutral expression. "I'm keeping things as they should be. As we agreed."

Silence stretched between them, thick and unyielding. Then Jason set his coffee down, fingers drumming against the table in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

"You'll be accompanying me to an event tonight."

A statement. Not a request.

Elena placed her cup down with equal precision. "I have prior commitments."

"Cancel them."

Something in her clenched. Anger. Frustration. But she refused to let it show. Instead, she inclined her head with perfect composure. "Of course."

Jason's gaze narrowed, as if testing her, searching for defiance. But she gave him nothing. If he wanted control, she would let him believe he had it—for now.

---

Jason

Jason tightened his grip around his coffee cup, the smooth porcelain doing little to ground him.

Elena was slipping through his fingers. He could feel it.

He told himself it was temporary, that she would fall back into place. But this was different. She wasn't resisting—she was retreating.

And that was worse.

She had always met him head-on, with fire, with sharp words that cut and challenged. Now, she was a polished surface, impossible to read. And Jason hated it.

A buzz from his phone broke his thoughts. He glanced down, brow furrowing at the message.

Sinclair Tower. Now.

His jaw locked. Philip.

Jason hadn't seen his father since that night at the Sinclair estate—since that damn dinner where Philip had stripped him bare in front of Elena. That night Philip had played his mind games, digging into wounds Jason refused to acknowledge. He had walked away then, unwilling to entertain his father's manipulations.

So why summon him now?

Jason exhaled sharply and pushed back from the table. He grabbed his jacket and turned toward the door.

Elena's voice cut through the silence. "You're leaving?"

Jason glanced at her, surprised by the question. Her expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in her dark eyes—something almost hesitant.

He hesitated a beat too long. Then, forcing his voice into neutrality, he replied, "It's business."

A lie.

He expected her to challenge him, to press for answers. But instead, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod and turned back to her coffee.

That unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

---

Sinclair Tower

Philip was waiting, of course.

The moment Jason stepped into the office, he was met with the same controlled, calculated presence that had shaped his entire childhood. The air was thick with expensive cologne and power games.

Philip smirked, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "You finally stopped sulking."

Jason didn't sit. "What do you want?"

Philip set his drink down, folding his hands over the desk. "You seem to think that walking away from me means walking away from who you are. But tell me, Jason—how much of what you've built is truly yours? And how much is just a desperate attempt to prove you're not me?"

Jason's hands curled into fists. "I don't need your validation."

Philip leaned forward, his smirk deepening. "Then why are you here?"

Jason exhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay composed. He wouldn't let Philip get to him. Not this time.

Philip's voice dropped to a whisper. "Elena is becoming a distraction."

Jason stiffened.

"You're losing focus. Making decisions based on emotions, not strategy." Philip's eyes gleamed with something dark, something knowing. "That's how I know you're still weak."

Jason's spine went rigid. "You don't know a damn thing about my marriage."

Philip chuckled. "Don't I? A contract marriage, built on terms, with an expiration date? Tell me, son, does it feel familiar?"

Jason's breath hitched, the memory of his mother surfacing unbidden. The way Philip had worn her down, controlled her, until she had nothing left.

Philip's voice was softer now, but no less dangerous. "You think you're different from me? You're making the same mistakes. And you know how that story ends."

Something inside Jason snapped.

He slammed his hands on the desk, leaning in until he was eye-level with his father. "I am nothing like you."

Philip didn't flinch. He simply smiled, victorious. "We'll see."