NOVEL NEXT Chapter 6: CHAPTER 6
The neon lights of New York City gleamed outside the penthouse windows as JM leaned back against his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the obsidian desk. His system interface flickered in his vision, running lines of code as it processed recent mission updates.
System: [New objective: Establish dominance over the underground power scene in Hell's Kitchen. Reward: +5% increase in overall stats.]
JM scoffed. "Dominance? I already own the board. I'm just replacing the weaker pieces."
The soft chime of a notification redirected his attention.
System: [Target approaching: Steve Rogers. Status: Restless. Emotion: Conflicted.]
JM smirked. It was always amusing to see the once-righteous Captain America wandering into his domain like a lost soldier. He flicked his wrist, the lights dimming as he stood, awaiting his guest.
A knock. Two beats. Hesitant.
"Come in," JM called lazily.
The door swung open, and Steve Rogers stepped inside, his jaw clenched tight, blue eyes clouded with emotions even he probably couldn't understand. Dressed down in a hoodie and jeans, he looked different from the man who once stood at the forefront of the Avengers. Vulnerable.
"You're up late," JM mused, studying him.
"So are you," Steve countered, crossing his arms.
JM chuckled, stepping forward, closing the space between them. "Are you sleepwalking here, Captain? Or did you finally decide to stop pretending you don't crave what I can give you?"
Steve stiffened but didn't move away. That was the fun part. Watching him resist—until he didn't.
"You think you have me figured out," Steve murmured, voice lower, more unsure.
JM tilted his head. "Oh, but I do. You keep coming back, don't you? Whether it's for answers, for control, or just to feel something real." His fingers brushed against Steve's wrist, just a fleeting touch, yet it sent a visible shiver through the soldier's body.
Steve exhaled sharply and turned away, staring out the window as if the city held his escape. "This isn't—"
"A mistake?" JM cut in, smirking. "It never is."
Steve swallowed hard, but his silence spoke volumes.
System: [Target's resistance level dropping. Current susceptibility: 62%.]
JM's smirk widened. Checkmate.
"Stay," he said simply. A command, not a request.
And after a long, silent moment, Steve sighed, closing his eyes briefly—then nodded.
JM turned away, satisfied. The game was still on. And this time, Captain America was playing by his rules.