The Commander's Obsession for His Heiress

2 Harrison's furious roar bounced off the high ceilings of the living room. He demanded Jordan drop the weapon immediately. Grandfather Sterling stood right behind Harrison. He leaned heavily on his silver-headed cane, his face pale with rage as he watched the chaotic scene. Jordan turned her head slowly. There was no panic in her eyes at being caught. There was only a thick, heavy layer of mockery. Seeing her protectors arrive, Serafina let out a pathetic, wailing cry, trying to milk the situation for maximum sympathy. Jordan frowned in disgust. She turned her wrist and slapped the flat side of the tactical blade against Serafina's cheek twice. It was a clear command to shut up. Harrison lunged toward the marble table. He reached out, trying to use his fatherly authority to snatch the weapon from Jordan's hand. Jordan moved as if she had eyes in the back of her head. She smoothly shifted her weight, dodging Harrison's grabbing hands with effortless precision. She flipped her wrist. The tactical knife spun over her knuckles in a flawless, deadly blur. With a sharp click, the blade retracted into the handle. Jordan shoved the ruby necklace deep into the pocket of her leather jacket. She watched coldly as her father pulled a trembling Serafina into his arms. Sterling slammed his cane hard against the floorboards. He pointed a shaking finger at Jordan, accusing her of bringing ultimate shame to the family name. Miles away, the camera lens pulled back. Just two blocks away from the estate, behind the reinforced, bulletproof windows of a highly classified AEGIS safe house disguised as a high-rise apartment, the room was completely dark. Only the neon glow of the Manhattan skyline bled through the glass. Blake Berry sat in a single leather armchair by the window. He wore a pure black silk shirt, the top two buttons undone. He held a heavily encrypted military tablet in his hands. The glowing screen displayed the hacked, high-definition feed of the Whitley Manor's internal security cameras. His deep eyes were locked dead onto the live footage of the living room. A dark, amused smile pulled at the corner of Blake's mouth. His deep eyes gleamed with the sharp, predatory focus of a hunter spotting a very dangerous prey. Through the high-resolution digital feed, he had perfectly captured the way Jordan retracted that knife. It was a highly professional, lethal tactical maneuver. As the Commander of AEGIS, his brain processed the data instantly. That kind of muscle memory did not come from basic self-defense classes. It came from killing. The smart lock on the penthouse door clicked open. His deputy, Drew Foster, walked in quickly, holding a heavily encrypted file. Drew reported that their investigation into the Brooklyn black-market medical network had hit a dead end. Blake didn't lower the tablet. He just gave a low hum of acknowledgment, his eyes still glued to Jordan's figure on the screen. Drew followed Blake's line of sight. He only saw the blurry figures moving inside the digital layout of the manor across the park. He frowned in confusion. Back in the manor, Jordan sneered at Sterling's accusations. She fired back, mocking their hypocrisy and their betrayal of her mother's memory. Harrison pointed a finger right in Jordan's face. His chest heaved as he warned her that if she ever touched Serafina again, he would cut off all her funding. Hearing the threat about money, Jordan actually laughed out loud. The sound was dry and filled with absolute contempt for the Whitley family's wealth. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a limitless black card. She threw it directly at Harrison's feet. The heavy metal card slid across the Persian rug and stopped right next to Serafina's expensive high heels. Jordan looked at them with dead eyes. She announced that she never needed their charity, and warned them to stay far away from her bottom line. In the dark safe house across the city, Blake finally lowered the tablet. He picked up a glass of whiskey from the side table and took a slow sip. The amber liquid burned down his throat. He turned his head and ordered Drew to run a full background check on the Whitley family's newly returned eldest daughter. Drew stared at his commander in shock. Blake Berry never cared about spoiled heiresses. But Drew nodded immediately and left the room to execute the order. ---