The Unseen Face

Pain. That was all Jax knew. His ribs screamed with every breath. His body ached from the brutal war he had just survived. Blood dripped from the cut above his eye, blurring his vision, but he didn't need to see clearly to know he had won.

Vargas was out cold. The crowd was still roaring, a deafening mix of cheers and jeers. Money exchanged hands as bets were settled. Some had lost big, some had won bigger.

But one man had lost more than anyone. Vincent Romano. Jax blinked through the pain, searching the crowd until his gaze locked onto Romano.

The crime boss sat still, fingers laced in front of him, his face unreadable. Then, after a long moment, he stood.

Slow. Deliberate.

The energy in the arena shifted. The celebration turned to unease. Romano adjusted the cuffs of his expensive suit, then turned and walked toward the exit, his men following close behind.

Jax exhaled. That wasn't a retreat. That was a promise. This wasn't over. Jax staggered down the hallway toward the locker rooms, his entire body screaming in protest.

Mason was waiting. The second Jax stepped through the doors, Mason was on him, gripping his arm. "We need to move," Mason muttered. "Now." Jax winced, shrugging off his grip. "I can walk."Barely," Mason shot back. "And we don't have time for you to play tough."

They barely made it a few steps before two men in suits blocked their path. Jax's body tensed. Romano's guys. One of them, a tall man with slicked-back hair, nodded toward a side door. "Mr. Romano wants a word."

Mason swore under his breath. "Jax—"

Jax clenched his jaw. "I got this." Mason grabbed his arm. "Jax, don't be an idiot. You won—let's just leave." Jax looked at him. Running wasn't an option. Not now. "Go," he said quietly. "I'll meet you outside."

Mason's jaw clenched, but after a long moment, he exhaled sharply and walked off. Jax turned back to the men. "Lead the way."

The room was dimly lit, a single overhead bulb casting long shadows. Romano stood by a desk, his back to Jax, pouring himself a drink. The ice clinked against the glass.

Two more of his men stood by the door, arms crossed. No escape. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Romano turned, taking a slow sip of his drink. His gaze settled on Jax, calm and calculating. "You fought well tonight," he said.

Jax wiped the blood from his mouth. "Appreciate it." Romano smiled. It wasn't friendly. "But," Romano continued, stepping closer, "I don't like surprises." Jax didn't flinch. "Neither do I."

Romano's smile widened. "Then we have something in common." Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Romano finally sighed. "You were supposed to lose tonight, Mercer." Jax's jaw tightened.

Romano gestured with his drink. "I had bets placed. Big bets. And now, thanks to your little stunt, I lost a lot of money." Jax met his gaze. "Not my problem."

Romano chuckled. "No. But it is now." Jax's muscles coiled, but he kept his expression neutral.

Romano stepped closer. Too close. "You don't understand how this works, do you?" His voice was smooth, calm—dangerous. "You don't win unless I say so. You don't walk out of my ring unless I allow it." Jax's hands clenched into fists.

Romano leaned in slightly. "And yet, here you are. Thinking you're free." Jax exhaled through his nose. "I don't belong to you."

Romano's smile disappeared. For a long moment, he simply stared at Jax. Then, he let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "I had plans for you, Mercer. But you just made things complicated."

Jax didn't respond. Romano stepped back. "You owe me." Jax's stomach turned. He knew this was coming. Romano's expression darkened. "And you're going to pay." Jax swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. "How?"

Romano smirked. "Don't worry. You'll find out soon." Jax's pulse pounded. Romano waved a hand toward the door. "Go. Celebrate your victory. While you still can."

Jax didn't move at first. Then, slowly, he turned and walked out. Jax barely made it two steps down the hallway before something crashed into him from behind.

Pain exploded through his ribs as he was slammed into the wall. The air rushed out of his lungs. Strong hands gripped his arms, twisting them behind his back.

Jax gritted his teeth, trying to break free, but a fist buried itself into his stomach. He doubled over, coughing blood. A voice whispered in his ear. "Mr. Romano doesn't like loose ends."

Then—a gun pressed against his side. Jax's vision blurred, his body weak from the fight, but his instincts kicked in. He twisted, smashing his forehead into the attacker's nose.

The man grunted, stumbling back. Jax ripped his arms free, driving a vicious elbow into the second guy's throat. The man choked, staggering.

Jax didn't let him recover. He grabbed the back of the guy's head and slammed it into the wall. The man crumpled. The first attacker recovered, lunging forward—but Jax was faster.

He sidestepped, grabbing the gun from the man's hand before driving a knee into his gut. The man collapsed to the floor. Jax stood over them, chest heaving, blood dripping from his mouth.

The gun felt heavy in his hand. He glanced back toward Romano's office. No one had come out. This was a message. Romano didn't need to kill him tonight.

He wanted Jax to know that he could. Whenever he wanted. Jax exhaled sharply and tossed the gun aside. Then he walked away. Jax stepped outside, the cold air hit him like a slap. Mason was waiting by the car.

The moment he saw Jax's face, his expression darkened. "What the hell happened?" Jax wiped blood from his mouth. "Romano happened," Mason swore. "We have to get out of here."

Jax leaned against the car, exhaustion crashing down on him. Mason stared at him. "So what now?" Jax didn't answer.

Because he didn't know.