“We’ve pulled the security footage.Alarms were bypassed somehow, but the cameras were operational.”
Saif turned from the ruined desk and chaos around him, jaw set.“What did you find?”
The bodyguard hesitated only a fraction before passing over the tablet.“I recognized the boy.I’ll contact my source at the Philadelphia police department.The boy will be in custody within the hour.”
Saif didn’t respond.He pressed play.
The grainy footage flickered to life.And then the breath caught in his throat.
There was Jasper.
Taller.Leaner.But unmistakably the same boy who used to tag along behind Jemma, asking questions, telling dumb jokes, and beaming with pride when his sister laughed.
Now his face was twisted in fury.
Red spray paint hissed out of the can as Jasper turned toward the wall.The letters came fast, angry, deliberate.
Cheapskate.
Saif froze the video.
He could feel his pulse pounding in his throat.
Jasper was sixteen now—almost a man—but this...this wasn’t just teenage rebellion.This was rage.Raw, feral rage.The kind that couldn’t be faked.
What the hell had happened to him?
A year ago, Jasper had been a bright, eager student with dreams of becoming a surgeon.Saif had spoken with him about those goals over dinner once.Jasper had been all elbows and ambition, talking about science and scholarships, and how he wanted to make his mother proud.
And now he was defacing property.Lashing out like a feral animal.Why?
What did cheapskate even mean?
Saif frowned, playing the video again, searching Jasper’s expression for clues.His movements were purposeful.Not rushed.Not chaotic.He was making a statement.
And somehow, Saif was at the center of it.
He lowered the tablet for a moment.“Don’t call the police.Not yet.”
The bodyguard’s eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing.That was why Saif paid him so well—he knew when to ask questions and when to shut the hell up.
Saif scanned the room again.This wasn’t just vandalism.It was personal.Targeted.And if he let it go through official channels, Jasper’s future would be gone.One police report and the dream of medical school would disappear.Gone before it even began.
It didn’t add up.Jasper had been smart.Charming.Ambitious.Saif had liked the kid.
So what had changed?
He lifted the tablet and pressed play again.And again.Every frame was another question without an answer.
Finally, he paused the video and let the tablet drop to his side.
“I’ll handle this issue,” Saif said quietly, handing the device back.He turned once more to take in the wreckage.The slashed curtains.The broken furniture.The word.
This wasn’t about money.
If Jasper had done this, then this fury was about Jemma.
The betrayal of her leaving him still echoed in him, dull and sharp at once.And now her brother had walked into his office with a can of paint and a sense of vengeance that didn’t make sense.
