Love In Disguise: Rebirth of the Heiress
Chapter 68

Chapter 68: Chapter 68

"I was. I just don’t sleep deep," Jason said, sitting up. I don’t know if it was just me, but he seemed like he’d gone through hell in the week we hadn’t seen each other.

His movements were slower, more deliberate. Maybe it was from his wounds. But it felt more like he was stressed. Mentally and emotionally.

Or maybe it’s just me.

"Rough week?" I asked, leaning against the counter and sipping my water.

Jason nodded, his fingers tracing the edge of the couch. "Family issues."

I raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue. For once, he didn’t deflect.

"My father decided to throw another one of his tests at me," Jason said, his voice low but calm. "It’s always the same thing. He questions my decisions, compares me to my brothers, and dangles the Lincoln name over my head like it’s a prize I’ve been too stupid to appreciate."

I frowned. I’d done my research on Jason Lincoln Cole, and his family wasn’t exactly what you’d call supportive. His father was notoriously controlling, his brothers all scattered across various ventures, and his mother’s death was shrouded in mystery.

"Your brothers don’t get the same treatment?" I asked cautiously.

Jason smirked bitterly, leaning back on the couch. "They’re all golden boys in his eyes. My eldest brother, Theodore, is running the hedge fund. The second one, Mark, is a tech genius with his own company. Even my younger brother, Ky, is doing... something in tech. They all took my father’s advice and became who they were. But me? I’m the rebel. The ’black sheep.’"

"And yet, you’re the CEO of one of the biggest investment companies out there, so you aren’t exactly a rebel," I pointed out, crossing my arms.

Jason laughed softly, though there was no humor in it. "Yeah, funny how that works. He dumped the company on me when no one else wanted it. Said it’d teach me responsibility. But what he really meant was that it’d teach me to obey and follow is advice on being a doctor and managing director of his hospitals."

I stayed quiet, letting his words hang in the air.

"What I do is not enough. What I am is not enough for him."

He looked down and I wanted to hug him. His shoulders sagged as I saw the vulnerable side of Jason.

One that the cameras never captured.

A man who wanted a father’s approval. Who wanted to be seen for who he is but not an image created.

Because he was human. He had emotions too.

"And the injury?" I asked after a moment, gesturing toward his bandaged side.

Jason’s smirk returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "A small disagreement. Someone didn’t like how I handled a deal. Things got... physical."

"Physical?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. "Jason, that’s not just physical—that’s a gash."

He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. "Part of the job sometimes."

I wanted to press further, but the look on his face told me not to. Instead, I walked to the kitchen and poured hot water into a cup, adding a mix of herbs my mother had taught me to blend when I was a kid.

Jason watched me, his head tilted slightly. "What’s that?"

"Herbal tea," I replied, stirring the mixture. "My mom taught me how to make it when I was young. She always loved being in the kitchen. She used to say it was soothing. Helps with pain."

I handed him the cup, and for the first time that evening, his expression softened.

Jason took it, his fingers brushing mine briefly. "Thank you, Kiara. I... I appreciate it."

I froze, his words catching me off guard. My eyes flicked to his face, and for a moment, we just stared at each other. His gaze dropped to my wrist, where his hand lingered.

"What is it?" I asked, my voice quieter now.

Jason shook his head slightly, releasing my wrist but not looking away. "Nothing. Just... thank you."

I nodded, stepping back and giving him space. "It’s hot, so don’t chug it."

Jason didn’t listen. He downed the tea in one go, setting the empty cup on the table.

"You’re insane," I muttered, shaking my head.

Jason grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Probably."

He stood up, adjusting his shirt gingerly. "Have a good night, Kiara."

I watched as he walked to the door, his movements more stable now.

"Good night, Jason," I replied, my voice softer than I intended.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone in the silence. I sighed, leaning against the counter.

He wonders me. Every single day.

****

Jason stumbled down the hallway, one hand pressed lightly against his now bandaged stomach, the other gripping his phone. His steps were deliberate, slower than usual, and his sharp features were clouded with frustration.

He pressed the elevator button, leaning against the wall as he waited.

When the line connected, he spoke tersely. "I checked. It’s not her."

His jaw clenched as he stepped into the elevator, the doors closing with a soft hum.

"I told you so," Lucian’s voice came through the line, smooth and unbothered.

Jason frowned, his free hand curling into a fist. "I feel like it’s her. It’s just a feeling. The way she acts... everything."

Lucian chuckled softly, a sound that grated on Jason’s nerves. "Feelings don’t mean facts, Jason. You checked, didn’t you? I checked also. No mark on the wrist. She’s not the one."

"Maybe there’s another place the mark would show," Jason argued, his voice low but firm. "Maybe it’s not always on the wrist."

"Or maybe you’re desperate," Lucian countered coolly. "Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment. You’re too smart for that."

Jason ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "This is coming from the man who sent me on a job that nearly got me killed. Nineteen men, Lucian. Nineteen against one. I’m not Superman."

"And yet, here you are," Lucian replied evenly. "You survived, didn’t you? And you got us what we needed."

Jason grit his teeth, his fingers tightening around the phone. "Barely. I’m holding my damn ribs together with tape and prayer, but sure, let’s call it a victory."

Lucian chuckled again, clearly enjoying Jason’s irritation. "You’re alive. That’s what matters. The rest? Temporary inconveniences."

Jason closed his eyes, leaning against the elevator wall as it began to ascend. "You have a funny definition of inconvenience."

"You knew what you signed up for," Lucian reminded him. "If you can’t handle the heat, step out of the kitchen."

"I’ll handle it," Jason snapped. "But you better hope this is worth it. I didn’t risk my life for scraps."

"You didn’t," Lucian assured him. "What you found confirms everything. And if you think Kiara’s the one, keep her close. You’re good at that, aren’t you?"

Jason’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smirk. "You’re exhausting, Lucian."

"Likewise," Lucian replied smoothly.

The elevator dinged, and Jason ended the call without another word. He stepped out onto his floor, his mind still racing.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that Lucian was wrong. That there was something about Kiara—something he couldn’t put into words but couldn’t ignore either.

As he walked down the hallway to his apartment, Jason muttered under his breath, "If it’s not on the wrist... where is it?"