Brian Payne
Brian leaned against the cold balcony railing, his eyes scanning the dimly lit courtyard below. The moonlight sliced across the grass in silver strips, pooling between shadows like spilled milk. The night was thick with the smell of cheap perfume and smoke from someone's cigarette. He hadn't slept. He couldn't.
Her face wouldn't leave his mind. Jade.
The name felt sour on his tongue.
He gripped his phone tighter, jaw clenched. She had stormed up to him earlier that night like she was on a warpath, cheeks flushed, eyes flashing fire. She shoved her phone into his face with that accusatory glare that made his blood boil and brain freeze at the same time.
> "You think this is funny? Stalking me now?" she'd hissed, voice low and dangerous.
He had blinked, thrown off. Genuinely clueless. He hadn't sent her any messages. He hadn't even known her number.
But he hadn't said that, not immediately. Of course not. Pride was a cruel companion. So instead, he mocked her. Teased her. Pretended like the idea amused him.
> "You're not that special, Kosoko," he'd said with a smirk, though her fear… it had struck something deep in him.
She'd looked at him like he was filth. Spat a curse at him before stomping off. And for a moment, just a damn moment, he almost went after her.
Now, leaning against the rail with the night pressing in around him, Brian finally tapped Leo's name on his phone and raised it to his ear.
It rang twice before Leo answered, voice groggy and annoyed.
"It's past midnight, man. What?"*
> "Someone sent Jade Kosoko a threatening text," Brian said, straight to the point. "From an unknown number. I need you to find out who."
Leo paused. Then he laughed bitterly.
"The same girl you said you couldn't stand two days ago?"
> "Doesn't mean I want her stalked," Brian muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Just check it out."
**"You sure she didn't fake it to get your attention?"**
That idea twisted something in Brian's chest. He didn't like the thought, but he wasn't sure why.
> "No. She's too proud for that."
A beat passed.
"Alright. Send me the number. I'll run it through my tools."
Brian texted the number and hung up. But he didn't go back inside. Instead, he stood there, trying to figure out why the hell this girl had gotten under his skin again.
She always did.
Back in high school, Jade had been everything he hated. Polished. Preppy. Fake. The kind of girl who said "good morning" to teachers with a blinding smile and snitched on people behind their backs. Her father—tge great Kosoko—was worse. A so-called "clean" businessman who acted like the Payne family were bottom feeders. Treated them like filth, like they were poison.
But the biggest joke?
Chief Kosoko had his hands just as dirty. Maybe dirtier.
Brian had heard whispers. Deals in the shadows. Corrupt ties. Blood-stained contracts with his name on them—but no one ever dared say it out loud. Not when he was waving around humanitarian awards and parading his daughter like some crown jewel.
That's why Brian hated her. Because she wore innocence like perfume and privilege like a shield, and it made him sick.
But now… after tonight… something didn't sit right.
If Jade had truly known about her father's sins, if she were in on it, she wouldn't have reacted like that. She wouldn't have looked that scared.
Brian sighed and walked back into his room. The walls were bare—intentionally. No reminders of home. No distractions. Just a single black punching bag in the corner, textbooks, and a neatly made bed that hadn't been touched in days.
He sat at his desk and opened his laptop. If Leo didn't find anything soon, he'd do his own digging. He had ways. His family always did.
But deep down, he knew this wasn't about just a threatening message anymore.
It was about Jade.
He'd caught her staring at him once during orientation week. She didn't think he saw, but he did. He always noticed her. Even when he didn't want to.
That fire in her. That pride. That mouth. God, that mouth.
And then that night at the party—years ago—before everything shattered.
He hadn't forgotten.
She had recognized him under the mask, as how drunk she was. She'd stumbled up to him like he was the only person in the room and whispered things she'd never say sober. She touched his chest. Told him she'd always been curious. Told him he smelled good. Told him—
He stopped himself.
She knew it was him.
And when he told her father about her drinking, he thought he was protecting her from herself.
But she never forgave him.
Now here they were, years later. Same university. Same orbit. Same sharp-edged hatred lingering between them.
Except now, something darker was circling them both.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Leo.
> "Got nothing yet. Whoever sent that text masked the number through an encrypted third-party app. Might take longer than usual. You sure she's not in deeper shit?"
Brian frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. What if this wasn't just about petty threats?
What if someone really wanted to hurt her?
A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts.
He stood, confused. It was almost 2 a.m.
He opened the door.
Leo stood there, phone in hand, hoodie on, looking more serious than he had on the call.
"I couldn't sleep,"Leo said. "Something's off about this whole thing."
Brian let him in. Leo dropped into the chair by the window.
"What if someone's trying to use her?" Leo said slowly. "To get to you? To your family? Your dad still has enemies who remember what happened with the Kosokos years ago."
Brian's eyes narrowed.
> "That's a stretch."
"Is it?" Leo raised an eyebrow. "Your dad and hers were supposed to be business partners once. Didn't happen. Things got messy. People got hurt. You think there's no lingering score?"
Brian's fists curled. The past was always lurking. Haunting. Twisting.
He hated being a Payne. Hated the darkness that clung to their name. But it was in his blood, and Jade's family had treated them like they were monsters.
Now, the monster might be at her door—and she was clueless.
Maybe she wasn't the villain he'd convinced himself she was.
Maybe she was just... collateral.
Brian looked out the window, jaw tight.
> "I'll keep an eye on her," he said quietly.
Leo smirked. **"Thought you didn't care?"**
> "I don't."
But even he didn't believe that anymore.
---
Brian didn't sleep that night.
Even after Leo left, even after he shut the door, locked it, turned off the light, and lay flat on his back staring at the ceiling — sleep didn't come.
His body was exhausted, but his mind kept circling Jade Kosoko like a hawk.
At around 6:30 a.m., he got up. The campus was quiet at that hour, the usual buzz of early risers still a whisper. He pulled on a hoodie, grabbed his earbuds and phones — more out of habit than need — and stepped out into the morning.
His feet carried him across the winding walkways without a destination. A few students jogged past him, the smell of cheap deodorant and ambition clinging to them. Somewhere in the distance, sprinklers sputtered to life, soaking patches of lawn.
He cut through the administrative block and paused when he noticed movement near the old registration hall. Jade. Again.
She was seated on one of the concrete benches, hunched slightly, probably waiting for them to process the last part of her registration. She looked tired. Her eyes had shadows under them, her curls pulled up lazily into a bun that looked like it was trying to escape gravity.
And yet… she looked good.
Too good.
Brian watched her silently from behind a pillar.
What the hell was she doing here so early?
He was about to move on — pretend he hadn't seen her, hadn't cared — but then she shifted in her seat, pulling out her phone.
Her face changed.
Not just tired. Not just sleepy. Alarmed.
Her fingers hovered over the screen like she was hesitating, then she slowly turned her head and looked around.
She didn't see him.
But Brian saw everything.
She was still getting those messages.
And it was messing with her head.
He clenched his jaw and stepped back into the shadows. He needed to know what was going on, and fast.
This wasn't about hate anymore. Not really. It was about control. Chaos. Power plays. Someone was pulling strings, and it sure as hell wasn't him.
He waited a few more minutes, then left.
---
Later that afternoon, after skipping a lecture he couldn't focus on, Brian slipped into the back of the campus café. He knew Aisha would be there soon — Jade too. He shouldn't be watching, but he was. From the outside, through the large glass pane near the corner where they always sat.
Jade walked in first.
She looked over her shoulder twice before sitting down.
Paranoia.
It was setting in.
Good.
Let her stay paranoid.
Let her stay alert.
It would keep her alive.
She pulled out her phone, probably to text Aisha. A few moments later, she smiled faintly — then snapped a selfie and sent it. He remembered the way her nose crinkled when she smiled genuinely like that. Not the polite, camera-ready Jade everyone else saw. But the real one.
His phone buzzed again — Leo.
Leo: Still no hit on the number. Whoever it is, they're good. Probably using burner protocols. You should warn her.
Brian didn't reply.
Instead, he kept watching.
A minute later, Jade's face dropped. Completely. Her shoulders stiffened. She stared at her phone again, like it was about to explode in her hand.
He didn't need to guess — another message.
Then she started looking around, tense, wary.
She clutched her bag a little tighter, breathing unevenly, eyes darting. For a second, she looked like she might cry.
And for reasons he didn't want to analyze too closely — it gutted him.
Aisha's voice came from somewhere behind her — she turned quickly, startled. Brian couldn't hear the conversation, but he could see it. The way she shook her head when Aisha asked something. The way she forced a smile.
He stepped away from the glass.
He shouldn't be here.
He shouldn't care.
But dammit, he did.
---
That night, he stood in his dorm again, this time pacing.
Leo's last message lingered in his mind: "You should warn her."
But how? She hated him. She thought he was the stalker. And given their history, she wouldn't believe a word from him.
Still, if something happened to her and he'd done nothing...
He grabbed his phone and opened her contact.
Paused.
Deleted it.
He wasn't a hero. He never had been.
Then he opened Leo's contact instead.
Brian: I need you to pull something else.
Leo: What now?
Brian: Get me all known contacts tied to that burner number. Patterns. GPS ping if you can get one. And Leo?
Leo: Yeah?
Brian: Keep this between us.
He didn't wait for a reply.
Instead, he opened a different app — the kind his family never spoke about publicly. The kind that tracked people without consent. His father had built it for "internal security," and Brian had managed to copy a version onto his own device years ago.
He keyed in the unknown number.
A map blinked to life. A blue dot moved slowly across campus.
He frowned.
The dot wasn't near Jade.
It was near the library.
---
Later that week, he saw her again.
Walking alone past the east wing, eyes low, headphones in. But she wasn't listening to music. He could tell — her shoulders were stiff, her walk too focused.
She knew someone was following her.
She just didn't know it was him.
Brian stayed several paces behind, phone in his pocket, hood pulled low. He wasn't trying to scare her — not really. He just needed to know where she went. Who she talked to. Whether this mystery threat was something more than a prank.
Jade stopped suddenly, then turned.
Their eyes met.
For a split second, she just stared.
Then she glared.
He raised an eyebrow and kept walking, brushing past her like she was just another student.
But inside?
Inside, something dark curled inside his chest.
This wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
—
The next morning was grey and moody, just the way Brian liked it. The sun was taking its sweet time showing up, and the sky hung low, like it hadn't slept well either. Perfect match for his mood.
He hadn't slept much. Again.
Leo's latest report hadn't yielded much — the number was still bouncing off untraceable towers, probably a VPN loop. Whoever was doing this wasn't a random. They were intentional. Maybe professional.
And Jade… she was still clueless.
He saw it in her eyes the day before, the way her entire body tensed like a thread pulled too tight. She was scared. But she was also stubborn — the kind of girl who wouldn't run to security, wouldn't ask for help. She'd keep walking around pretending she wasn't looking over her shoulder every five seconds.
That was exactly the kind of pride that got people hurt.
Brian was halfway down the path to his department building, earbuds in, hoodie up, coffee in hand, when he saw her.
Jade.
Walking briskly, backpack slung over one shoulder, hoodie zipped up, curls still damp from the shower. She had on a grey hoodie and matching joggers, and somehow still looked like something out of a damn catalog.
"Ugh! Fuck me".
She didn't see him at first — too busy scanning her phone. But the moment she glanced up, their eyes locked.
And for the briefest second… time dragged.
Jade's brows furrowed, her steps slowed, then she squared her shoulders like she was preparing for war. Classic.
Brian didn't break eye contact.
Didn't smile.
Didn't flinch.
He stepped aside a little to let her pass — a silent challenge — but didn't keep walking.
She stopped too.
About two feet apart now. Just standing there. Both of them pretending they weren't calculating every possible response.
"You're following me again?" she asked, her voice low but sharp.
He blinked slowly, expression unreadable. "You're not that interesting."
"Yet you always seem to be where I am," she countered, eyes narrowing.
"Campus isn't that big."
She scoffed. "Right."
There was silence.
Not the easy kind. Not even the tense kind. It was electric — coiled, restrained, like a match waiting for friction.
He tilted his head slightly. "Still getting creepy messages?"
Jade stiffened. Her eyes darted, barely noticeable. "Why do you care?"
"I don't," he said immediately, too quickly, too sharply. "I just don't want to get blamed for your paranoia."
She looked like she was about to fire back, but then stopped. Studied him.
"What's your problem with me?" she asked, tone suddenly quieter. "You don't even know me."
Brian laughed, bitter and short. "Don't I?"
"No. You don't."
He took a slow step toward her. Not enough to invade her space, but enough to shift the balance of power.
"Your father knows mine. And yet here we are, pretending we live in different worlds."
Jade blinked. "What does that have to do with me?"
"Everything," he snapped.
There it was — the crack in the mask. He hadn't meant to say that much. Not yet.
She stared at him, brows furrowed in real confusion. "I don't know what your problem is, but you really need to let it go."
Brian clenched his jaw.
God, she was so damn clueless. Or maybe she was just that good at pretending.
He was about to walk away when her phone buzzed. Again.
Her eyes flicked down, then widened slightly. She didn't open the message, but her fingers curled tighter around the phone like it had just threatened her.
Brian saw the shift. Saw the alarm she was trying to mask. She shoved the phone into her pocket and looked up at him, trying to steel her face — but she didn't do it fast enough.
"You got another one, didn't you?" he asked, more statement than question.
Jade hesitated.
Then, like flipping a switch, she put her mask back on. "None of your business."
He shook his head slowly. "You're playing with fire."
"And you're the one lighting the matches?" she asked.
He rolled his eyes. "If I wanted to mess with you, you'd know. I don't do anonymous."
"That supposed to scare me?" she sneered.
He gave her a dark, unreadable smile. "If it did, you wouldn't be standing here mouthing off."
They stared at each other for a long, unbearable beat.
He hated this. Hated her. Hated how familiar this felt — like an echo of something old and bitter. Like unfinished business dressed in new skin.
She moved first, stepping past him. Her shoulder brushed his, not roughly, but enough to be intentional. A declaration.
"I don't have time for this," she muttered.
He didn't turn to watch her walk away.
Didn't let her know he was still watching her reflection in the glass of the administration building as she kept glancing behind her every few steps.
She was scared.
And he hated that some part of him… wanted to protect her from whatever was
coming.
But he also knew that whatever it was — it had already started. And whether Jade liked it or not, she was now playing a game she didn't even know the rules to.
He would make sure she learned.
One way or another.