Chapter 7 - Simply Observing
That fucking smile.
Jasper couldn't shake it.
It surfaced at the most inconvenient moments—when he was reviewing contracts, when he was halfway through a call, when the room was silent and his thoughts had nowhere else to go. Soft. Brief. Unassuming. The kind of smile people overlooked because it didn't demand attention.
That irritated him.
He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply, annoyed at himself as much as her. A distraction. That's all she was supposed to be.
And yet, she lingered.
Not only in his thoughts, but in the quiet spaces between them—slipping in when his guard was down, settling comfortably where nothing else ever had.
"Enter," he commanded.
Raj came forward and placed another file containing more in-depth information about Iris. Glancing at the frustrated face of his boss, he gulped in nervousness. He felt awful for the girl about how his bosses were invading her privacy, but he couldn't stop it. He valued his life more.
Humans are selfish.
"Leave."
Raj didn't hesitate. As he turned, Elias passed him at the doorway.
Raj noticed the knuckles—split skin, faint traces of blood already washed away—and lowered his gaze. Someone had paid for Elias's mood—several someones, judging by the last few days.
Elias didn't speak as he entered. He poured himself a drink instead, the amber liquid catching the light as he swirled it slowly. His frustration had been simmering for days, bleeding into everything he touched. Work. People. Time. It was as if he had brought purgatory on earth.
People working for them shuddered in fear when they looked at the hell he created.
Edward and Kai had noticed it too. In ten years, they had seen rage, violence, precision—but never fixation. Never this.
They had noticed how the bosses would stare blankly at the girl's photo or murmur her name as if it were a chant that brought salvation to their tainted souls.
Such a frenetic state made them more than when the brothers went on a killing spree.
Jasper was sifting through the photos in Iris's file. Leaving her apartment. Carrying groceries. Standing in line at a café, oblivious. Alive in moments, she didn't know anyone was witnessing. it. His hands trailed over her face as if trying to feel if it was her actual face. 'I need her,' he narrowed his eyes at the pictures, a dark glint flashing through them. His patience was running thin.
He needed her soon. Or he was sure he would go crazy.
Elias kept drinking. Savoring the acidic taste that burned his throat. His grip tightened on the glass, his bloody knuckles whitening. He took a few photos of her observing them. He set them aside carefully, picking up the pages that contained information.
Relationship Status: single
That was the crucial fact he wanted to learn. He didn't care if she had boy toys around her before. Anyone who thought they could step closer now would be corrected swiftly. He will rip their throat out while they choke on his Rolex.
Elias drained his glass.
"She keeps to herself," he said. "That makes this… simpler."
She was theirs, and he was going to make sure of it- willingly or not.
---
Iris woke late, wrapped tightly in her blanket, reluctant to leave its warmth.d.
She didn't wish to wake up. Her phone screen lit up. It was her next assignment.
She groaned softly but rolled out of bed anyway, hair a mess as she scanned the request. Another cheating spouse. Another broken promise. Find information for the divorce settlement.
People exhausted her.
What a jerk. She frowned at the mind. Iris didn't understand why people cheat in a relationship. She had never been in one to understand the emotions of being and relying on someone. She doesn't even think she wants to be in a relationship.
Too much work, she grimaced.
She took out her laptop and hacked into his phone, downloading all his chats, photos, and locations he had been to for the past three months, and various women he met. He cheated on his wife with three women over two years.
After five hours, she sent the report to the client.
*ding*
Two thousand dollars credited to your account, her notification displayed. She smiled at the money. I can buy more books and food. She was too lazy to cook lunch, so she ordered.
Tteokbokki, dumplings, fried rice, and Coke, she quickly ordered. Waiting for half an hour for her order to arrive, she was standing behind her door eagerly before the delivery boy could ring her bell. She opened the door. She handed him the money for the bill, but he refused.
Huh, what!?
"Miss, the company has paid for your order as a lucky customer," he replied, handing her the bag full of warm food. She smiled and nodded. Free food is not bad at all.
"Thank you," she muttered, grabbing the food like an excited kitten. A drool at the corner of her mouth, inhaling the savory smell of the Korean delicacy.
---
Jasper chuckled softly at the sight of her excitement, amused by how easily she accepted the explanation of being a "lucky customer," never once questioning it, never suspecting that the bill had already been paid long before the delivery arrived at her door. Her trust came too easily, and that alone told him a great deal about her.
They had installed a camera outside her apartment under the guise of routine surveillance, a simple and efficient way to keep track of who came and went. To their surprise, almost no one did. Over the past week, no friends had stopped by, no familiar faces had lingered at her door, no late-night visitors had appeared.
She spent most of her time inside, cocooned within her small world, venturing out only once to buy groceries before retreating into solitude.
Digging deeper, they uncovered the truth behind how she supported herself—freelance work, discreet hacking jobs, careful and selective. They had initially assumed she was entirely law-abiding, and the discovery only intrigued them further. She wasn't reckless, nor was she careless. She lived quietly, invisibly, slipping beneath notice in a way few people managed.
Because she rarely went out, there were no acquaintances to trace, no social circles to map. Her isolation made her both vulnerable and fascinating.
Elias's lip twitched at how excited she looked to see the hot food getting delivered to it. He could feel her eagerness through the screen.
She is a foodie.
The realization sparked something unexpected in him—a sudden, unsettling warmth. He imagined taking her to restaurants she'd never dreamed of entering, letting her taste everything she wanted without hesitation or restraint, watching her reactions as she discovered new flavors. He even found himself wondering if she would enjoy the meals he could cook for her himself, a thought that surprised him with how genuine the curiosity felt.
As they returned to their work, their attention drifted back to the screen again and again, both of them imagining her eyes lighting up—not just at food, but at the sight of them—hoping, almost unconsciously, that one day those expressions would be meant for them alone.
It would take time, they knew that much, but time was something they had in abundance. She would be theirs eventually, and when that happened, they would shape her world carefully, patiently, until it fit perfectly around them.
---
Later that night, at precisely one in the morning, breaking into her apartment proved almost disappointingly easy. The space wasn't large, nor was it cramped, but it felt lived-in—comfortable, warm, nothing like the sterile, empty residences they were used to. Soft colors coated the walls, giving the place the unmistakable feel of a home rather than a temporary shelter.
They were not surprised by seeing the number of books on her shelves, on the kitchen top, on the coffee table, some upon boxes on the floor, which they guessed contained more books. They could see how well she kept the books.
They exchanged a glance, already knowing she would adore the private library they were having built back at their estate..
The apartment was cluttered, yet organized in a way that spoke volumes about her mind—chaotic only at a surface level, structured beneath. It made them smile.
A soft click, and they entered her room. Soft snores echoed in the room.
Iris lay curled beneath her blanket, surrounded by plush toys and pillows, only her curls and the gentle rise of her breathing visible. The sight softened something even they hadn't known was there.
They could watch her for hours and not get tired. Instead, feel even fresher. She was like a ray of sunshine in their demented and dark world.
Jasper reached out, carefully brushing a few strands of hair away from her face, his expression uncharacteristically gentle as he studied her peaceful features. Her lips were parted slightly, faint breaths escaping them, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. Elias stayed back, restraining himself, fully aware that stepping any closer would test the limits of his control.
It filled the room with her smell, the faint smell of candies, strawberries, and coffee. Somehow, the sweet smell brought them a sense of comfort.
Elias's eyes roamed in the bedroom, only to see more books and soft toys around the room.
His attention eventually landed on a photograph beside the lamp on her bedside table. A small girl with Mickey Mouse ears stood between two smiling adults in front of Disneyland. He recognized her instantly.
A scowl darkened his face as the reality of her past settled in. Her parents had died in an accident, after which she vanished from the foster system, slipping through the cracks until she became invisible to the world. Invisible—until they had found her.
Her skills, impressive for her age, were still nothing compared to the teams they employed, people who had been doing this work longer than she had been alive.
Money could buy anything.
Elias moved to her closet, quietly rifling through her clothes, taking photos to catalog her style, already planning what they would replace and what they would keep. They intended to give her everything, after all.
"Done?" Jasper whispered.
Elias nodded, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
Neither of them felt guilt over what they were doing. In their minds, this wasn't an intrusion—it was preparation. She belonged to them; they were simply observing what was already theirs, even if the methods themselves skirted morality.
"Soon, darling," Elias hoarsely murmured, caressing her face. His cold hands were in contrast to her warm cheeks. "Soon," Jasper whispered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
Soon you will belong to us.
They left without waking her, casting one last look back before disappearing into the night.
Iris woke the next morning feeling strangely refreshed, stretching beneath her blankets and rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Good morning to me," she murmured, silencing her alarm. Something about the day felt lighter, more promising, and she decided she didn't want to waste it indoors.
After getting dressed, she grabbed her keys and headed out, justifying the expense of shopping with the simple thought that she did, in fact, need new clothes.
Shopping therapy, after all, was always the best.
Not at all aware of what the future holds for her.