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ⁿᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ
𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 & 𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬
𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 , 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐫
The day started quietly enough. Leo had woken early, babbling and tugging on Maya’s hair until she finally dragged herself out of bed. She dressed him, fed him, and tried to pretend the walls of the mansion weren’t closing in tighter every hour.
But the peace didn’t last.
𝐉𝐚𝐱’𝐬 rules had been circling her like invisible chains for days now. No leaving her wing without permission. No questioning his decisions. No stepping outside the walls unless he said so. She’d obeyed, biting her tongue, swallowing her pride. But everyone has a breaking point.
It came when she stepped into the courtyard with Leo. Just a patch of green grass surrounded by stone, but it felt like freedom. She let him toddle across the grass, sunlight warming his curls, his laughter bouncing off the stone walls. For the first time in weeks, she felt a piece of herself return.
That’s when Jax appeared.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice cut across the courtyard like a blade.
Maya spun around, heart racing. “He needed sunlight. Fresh air. He’s a child, not a prisoner.”
“You don’t get to decide where he goes,” Jax snapped, stepping closer. His eyes were cold steel. “I said you don’t leave your wing without my permission.”
Maya’s jaw clenched. “He’s not just your responsibility, Jax. He’s mine. And I won’t raise him in shadows like he’s some secret you’re ashamed of.”
The words hung in the air. For a moment, Jax didn’t speak. His chest rose and fell sharply, jaw tight, hands balled into fists at his sides.
“You think you know what’s best?” he growled. “You think I keep you here for fun? The second someone sees you with him, the second word gets out, he’s a target. You’re a target. And I won’t bury either of you because you wanted a walk in the sun.”
Maya’s breath caught, but she didn’t back down. “Then maybe you should stop living like every corner of your life is a war zone. Maybe you should think about what he needs, not just what you fear.”
Jax stepped closer, so close she could see the flicker of something behind his fury — fear, maybe, or guilt. His voice dropped, low and harsh.
“You don’t understand. And you never will.”
Leo’s laughter broke the tension. He stumbled toward Jax, holding out a flower he’d plucked from the grass. The absurdity of it — this tiny gesture of innocence in the middle of their storm — made Maya’s throat tighten.
Jax froze, staring down at the little boy, then slowly reached out. His massive hand, scarred and dangerous, took the fragile flower. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at it, his rage dissolving into something Maya couldn’t name.
For a brief second, the walls cracked. And Maya saw it — the man he might have been, before the world turned him into a fortress.
𝐉𝐚𝐱 turns without another word, walking back inside, the flower still clutched in his hand. Maya watches him go, her chest heavy with anger, fear, and something far more dangerous: hope.
𝐋𝐞𝐨 curls into her lap, yawning, as she whispers to him:
“We’re not prisoners. Not forever.”
But in her gut, she knows the clash is only beginning.
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