Nico had always considered himself in control. Of his emotions. Of his world. Of people.
He understood manipulation the way others understood breathing — instinctual, necessary, and involuntary. People liked to think they made their own choices. That was the greatest illusion of them all.
But Jace… Jace had shifted something in him. Unexpectedly. Uncomfortably.
It had started as nothing more than curiosity — Soraya's toy, her soft little plaything with downturned eyes and that wounded puppy silence that clung to him like perfume. Nico had never cared much for the things Soraya called hers. She could have men, power, money — he had those too. But Jace?
Jace was different.
Nico didn't even know the exact moment it tipped. Maybe it was that first time he caught Jace looking back at him — not with defiance, not quite, but with quiet confusion, like he didn't know how to handle being seen. Or maybe it was when he noticed how tightly Soraya gripped him — like Jace was a possession, not a person.
It irritated him. But more than that — it excited him.
And excitement was a dangerous thing when it came to Nico.
He hadn't slept much since then. His thoughts tangled and looped around Jace in ways that no longer made sense. He told himself it was a game — but games didn't keep you up at night. Games didn't make your fingers twitch with phantom memories of a look, a word, a breath shared too close.
Games didn't make you jealous.
Especially not of Soraya.
He leaned against the tinted window of his penthouse that night, staring out at the glittering city. A tumbler of untouched bourbon sat in his hand, sweating onto the wood. His phone sat beside it, blank. No messages. No updates. He'd waited, half-expecting Soraya to storm in after last time, to demand he keep his distance.
She hadn't. Which meant she didn't see him as a threat.
That was her first mistake.
Because Nico didn't play by Soraya's rules.
He watched, waited, and learned.
It didn't take much to find out where Jace would be. Soraya's apartment was guarded, sure — but Nico knew her guards. One of them owed him favors. Another was just greedy enough to let things slip for the right amount of cash and just the right smile.
Jace had taken to walking in the evenings again — short ones, barely thirty minutes. Probably Soraya's way of letting him breathe just enough to keep him sane, but not enough to give him a taste of freedom.
Perfect.
Nico found him near the park. Hood up, hands in pockets, head down. It was almost pathetic how contained he looked. Like he was folding into himself just to survive.
He parked the car a block away and stepped out. No rush.
Jace didn't notice him until Nico was five paces away.
"You always walk like you're hiding from something?" Nico asked, voice casual, laced with amusement.
Jace froze. His head lifted slowly, confusion flashing in his eyes. Then recognition. Then a flicker of something else — wariness, or worse, interest.
"Nico," Jace said, voice low.
"Didn't expect me?" Nico tilted his head. "You should've."
Jace didn't answer. Just looked away, like he wasn't sure if he should walk off or stay rooted where he was. The tension was immediate — like a taut line between them that neither dared to cut.
Nico smiled, slow and calm. "You look exhausted."
"Did you follow me?" Jace asked, finally.
"Would it matter if I did?"
Silence.
Then Jace turned, just slightly. "What do you want?"
Nico stepped closer, his voice softer now. "To talk."
"I don't think Soraya—"
"I didn't ask what she thinks." Nico's tone dropped, not angry, but sharp enough to slice. "I'm not interested in her permission."
That silenced Jace again. But Nico saw it — the way Jace's lips parted slightly, like he was about to argue and then swallowed it down. That hesitation. That doubt.
Good.
He reached into his coat and handed Jace something — a folded paper. Jace looked at it like it might explode.
"What's this?"
"An address," Nico said simply. "Neutral place. No Soraya. No games. Just... you and me. Conversation."
"Why?"
"Because I think you need it."
Jace laughed bitterly, but it was short. "You don't know me."
"I know enough."
Nico's voice was quieter now, his expression unreadable. "I know what it looks like when someone forgets how to breathe on their own. When they start waiting for commands instead of desires."
Jace stared at the paper, then back at Nico. "You don't get it."
"I do," Nico said simply. "I just don't tolerate it."
He stepped back then, slowly. "Come or don't. That's your choice, Jace. Not hers."
He walked away before Jace could reply.
And even as the cold air bit at his face, Nico smiled.
The seed had been planted.
Three nights passed before the door opened.
Nico hadn't expected him to come right away. That would've been too easy. Jace was still tangled in Soraya's web, still guilt-ridden and unsure of his right to exist without her permission.
But eventually — the boy always snapped.
Jace stood in the doorway, hoodie zipped to his neck, hands jammed into his pockets.
Nico didn't speak right away. Just motioned for him to enter.
The space was modest, a private penthouse studio with minimal furniture and soft, ambient lighting. No art, no distractions. Just stillness.
Jace stepped in cautiously, every move guarded.
"I didn't come here to be told what to do," he said.
Nico smirked. "You've had enough of that, haven't you?"
Jace sat on the edge of the couch like he wasn't sure if it was allowed. Nico poured him tea — no alcohol tonight. Not yet. This wasn't about seduction. Not overtly.
Jace sipped it. Silence stretched.
Then:
"Why me?" he asked finally. "What do you want?"
Nico leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Because she doesn't deserve you."
Jace flinched. Nico saw it. Saw the flicker of pain, guilt, and something else — hope?
"You don't know her," Jace muttered.
"I know power. I know what it looks like when it's used to make someone feel small."
Jace stared at his cup. "I chose this."
"No," Nico said. "You chose her. Not the cage."
The silence returned. Deeper now. Denser.
Jace looked up, and his voice cracked just slightly. "And what would you do?"
Nico met his gaze. "Set you free."
Jace's lip twitched — half scoff, half disbelief. "And put me in another kind of cage?"
Nico smiled, slow. "No. I'd just leave the door open and see if you come to me on your own."
By the time Jace left that night, nothing had happened — physically. But Nico didn't need touch to win.
He saw the hesitation in Jace's steps, the confusion on his face, the silent war raging in his mind. That was enough. For now.
The obsession that had started as fascination had become something far more dangerous.
Nico no longer just wanted to have Jace.
He wanted to ruin Soraya to get him.
To take the soft, broken thing she'd molded and make it his.
To prove he could.