A Throne in the Dark
Jasper sat in the corner of the yard, his back against the cold concrete wall.
Blackridge had always been dangerous. But now?
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
Before solitary, the yard was filled with watchful eyes, whispers, silent challenges.
But now?
Men didn't meet his gaze.
They moved out of his way.
Even the ones who once sized him up—waiting for a weakness—stood down.
Because Jasper wasn't just stronger.
He was something else.
Something they didn't understand.
And what people don't understand?
They fear
Jasper knew it was only a matter of time before someone tried him.
That moment came fast.
A new face—one of Pante's old men, Vega.
Tall, broad, a fighter. Desperate to reclaim lost ground.
He walked up, cracking his knuckles. "You think one week in the hole makes you untouchable?"
Jasper didn't answer.
Vega sneered. "You lost it in there, huh? Mind cracked?"
He reached out. Made a mistake.
Jasper's hand shot up, fast.
Fingers wrapped around Vega's throat.
Not a punch. Not a struggle.
Just a slow, crushing grip.
Vega's eyes went wide. He tried to pull away. Tried to breathe.
Jasper held.
Then, when the fear fully settled in—he let go.
Vega stumbled back, coughing.
Jasper leaned in, voice low. Deadly.
"Touch me again, and I won't let go."
Silence.
Vega nodded and walked away.
Jasper didn't watch him go. Didn't need to.
Because everyone had already seen.
And that?
Was enough.
Up in his office, Grayson smirked.
Jasper wasn't breaking. He was building.
Turning fear into power.
But power?
Could be taken just as fast.
Grayson took a sip of his coffee.
It was time to push harder.