sued into submission 🌷 tracob

35

a/n: ur mum is back and high as shit, i apologise if this chapter is far out (far ouuut) fuck

Jacob Bixenman

Four wasted hours later, I make myself keep walking to the lift. Just get in there and talk to him. It should be as simple as ever.

Why am I afraid?

I've never truly felt this way before. It makes my body feel like it's on fire, in the most subtle way possible.

"What floor?" Chase asks, holding the door for me.

I step in and cross my arms over my chest, "Five."

He presses the button and steps back, his hands folded together.

"How's your day going, sir?" He asks.

I clench my jaw, not having much patience, "Alright."

I don't bother asking him about himself, tapping my shoes on the floor. The lift dings and the doors open, Chase gesturing out.

"Have a good day, sir."

I nod in his direction and step forward. Looking, I see the back of a bloke's head instead, stepping forward into my office to reveal a crimson-faced Troye sweating bullets.

"What is going on?" I ask, walking forward and to my desk to see none other than Ben J Pierce eyeing down my boyfriend.

I get to Troye immediately, standing in front of him, "How did you get in here?"

"Evans let me up. What a bold one he is." He speaks in a cold tone, his eyes settling on me.

"I can't say I've missed you, Bixenman. I can't say that at all, seeing as you've snatched my every client in the UK." He adds on, complaining like a child.

I can't help but get a kick out of it, "Ah, well I'm afraid you'll have to leave your whining to the front desk."

"You may leave now," I smile down on him with pride.

"Is that so?" He questions, pulling a pocket knife out and twiddling it in his hand.

I step closer to Troye in seconds and make sure he's behind me, getting a squeeze on my wrist from him.

"You don't know just who it is you think you're dealing with, Pierce." I threaten, "It's best you leave and you leave now... before I tear you apart."

He laughs out with glee, poking into his finger and drawing blood. Bringing his finger to his lips, he licks up the blood, "You'll have to try harder if you want to make me blush."

"Alright. What is it that you want?" I taunt.

He shrugs, swinging the blade around in a circle, "Your business, your head on a platter, I don't know, just basic stuff."

"Troye," I speak up, "Dial 999 and keep a smile on your face darling."

Troye scrambles to the desk and dials on the phone, making Pierce jump, pointing it at him.

"Ah ah ah ah, not so fast there." He says, making Troye freeze.

"Fifty percent of your clients and profit and I'll leave without another word." Pierce tries to negotiate.

"You say another word and you'll be spending life in jail," I step forward in front of my desk so Troye is covered, "We both know you won't do a thing."

He snickers darkling and jumps forward, digging the blade into my stomach.

I gasp in and look down at myself, blood forming around it quickly.

"Jacob!" Troye cries.

"Hello 999, I-I need to report a- uh- um- I don't know- my boyfriend is bleeding out." He chokes out.

Pierce finds this all too amusing, leaning over and taking a hold of the knife, twisting it into my flesh. I hiss in pain and lean my head back, mentally begging for this to end.

"Drop the phone or I'm digging in deeper, kid." He smirks at Troye, making me look back at him to see tears flooded.

"Tr-roye," I stutter, "Do what he says."

Troye drops the phone down and hangs up.

"Good. Now, Bixenman, if you want to save your own life, get moving." He spits out, glaring at me.

I bear through the pain, jaws clenched tight in discomfort.

Out of nowhere, police barge in, yelling their titles. The next few moments slowed down before me, Pierce getting brought down, cuffed, Troye's crying, my slow breathing as I fall down to the floor, passing out.

"I love you."