Villain In MCU

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"It tastes really good. You should try it too."

Jason pulled out an empty glass, filled it a quarter with whiskey, and handed it over.

Wesley grabbed the bottle roughly, filled the glass, and then raised it, downing it in one gulp.

Boom!

The glass hit the bar as Wesley squeezed it tightly, his head lowered, eyes closed, and breathing rapid.

Jason didn't say a word. There was nothing he could do to help Wesley with this; he had to work through it on his own.

Jason refilled Wesley's glass and casually sipped his own while toying with it.

Half an hour later, the two had finished the bottle.

Wesley finally broke the silence, "Jason, I'm sorry for letting you see me like this."

Jason shook his head slightly, smiling, "No need to apologize. I was actually enjoying myself."

"Fuck you!"

Wesley managed a grim smile, "If you die one day, I'll make sure to find someone who can sew your mouth shut."

"What a waste! I'd turn it into a bottle stopper." Jason laughed.

"Disgusting." Wesley muttered, his mood lightening.

They clinked their glasses, finishing the last drops.

Setting his glass down, Wesley grew serious, "What did you do, Jason? This is the first time I've seen Kingpin this furious."

"A little thing." Jason replied.

"What little thing?"

Jason looked down at his glass, speaking calmly, "I slept with Vanessa."

Wesley was stunned.

"You call that a small thing? I told you that your behavior would get you killed someday."

Jason waved him off impatiently, "Don't worry about it. I just came here to ask—how did Kingpin find out about Vanessa and me?"

Wesley shook his head, "He didn't tell me anything, not even about Vanessa. All he said was that you betrayed the gang and that every gang in New York should be notified. There's a bounty on your head."

Jason chuckled, unbothered. He'd anticipated this outcome; otherwise, he wouldn't have changed his phone and started wearing disguises whenever he went out.

"What's the price?"

"Dead, a million dollars. Alive, three million."

"Wow, big spender." Jason laughed, "Can I turn myself in?"

"I'd welcome it."

Wesley stood, straightened his suit, and prepared to go upstairs, "I've got a mess to deal with, so you can leave now. Pretend I didn't see you tonight."

"Wesley."

Jason placed his glass down with a smile, pulled a Glock from under his jacket, and pointed it at Wesley.

"You're not leaving without giving me an answer—or you can try killing me with your Beretta 92."

Wesley looked surprised, his hand freezing just as he touched his gun.

Under the dim lights, the two men—one standing, one sitting—held their guns, locked in a tense standoff.

After a few seconds, Wesley relented.

He let go of his gun, sighing, "Jason, I told you, I don't know anything. Kingpin kept me out of the loop."

Jason scoffed, "You and I have been through enough together to know each other inside and out. Don't lie to me."

Wesley's face darkened, saying nothing.

"Let's lay it out, then. Kingpin is very protective of his reputation and despises Vladimir. He wouldn't risk contacting him personally."

"So, the question is, who gave Vladimir the precise details to find my place?"

At this, Wesley's expression finally shifted.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, Jason…"

"Don't apologize. I know you were just following orders."

"Thank you." Wesley continued, "When Kingpin called me yesterday, I found out about you and Vanessa. I was going crazy. You really aren't afraid of death."

Jason smiled, "Thanks."

"I wasn't complimenting you." Wesley muttered, scowling.

"Because of your little escapade, Hell's Kitchen and even the entire New York underground are in chaos. Do you realize how many lives could be lost over this?"

Jason shook his head, thinking Wesley had clearly inherited Kingpin's ideals.

From the beginning, Kingpin had set a grand vision for himself.

He wanted to rule all of New York's gangs and bring order, keeping his subordinates under strict rules to create a city without violence and crime.

Jason had heard this vision before. He'd smiled and nodded but thought it was absurd.

Jason looked Wesley squarely in the eyes, "Wesley, do you really believe what Kingpin says? It's ridiculous."

"Evil is evil, and good is good. Stop trying to paint us as something noble. So long as people like us exist, New York will never know peace."

Wesley was unconvinced, "Under Kingpin's rule, the crime rate in Hell's Kitchen is lower than ever. Doesn't that prove something?"

Jason stood up and countered, "And how much did New York pay for that data you're quoting?"

"Illegal firearms, drugs, gambling, and human trafficking are everywhere."

"Every legitimate business pays protection fees to Kingpin."

"His competitors? They're feeding fish at the bottom of New York Harbor."

"The blood on his hands won't ever wash off. Want me to keep going?"

Wesley was silent, struggling to defend Kingpin, before mumbling, "At least some innocent lives were spared."

Jason laughed coldly, "It's sad you actually believe that. Wake up, Wesley. We're all criminals here. Kingpin's just using the pretense of change to justify his tyranny. I see through it, but you're blinded by his words."

"Shut up!"

Wesley's face flushed, and he grew agitated, "I don't want to argue about this. And I don't have the answers you want, so leave."

Jason leaned back with a smirk, "Then find an answer. Otherwise, I'll stay here, and you'll have to feed me."

Wesley sighed, exasperated, "Jason, you know plenty of people. Why target me?"

"Because you're Kingpin's favorite, the gang's manager, and the closest link to the truth."

"Besides, there's a three-million-dollar bounty on my head. My so-called friends are probably waiting for me to hand myself over."

"Fine…"

Wesley sank down onto the steps, visibly tired.

Jason wouldn't leave until he got what he wanted.

After a few minutes, Wesley's eyes lit up as if he'd remembered something.

"There's one thing."

"Explain."

"Since you… left, Kingpin ordered a huge internal purge."

"All your territory has been reclaimed."

"Your loyalists? Executed."

"Even those who took your orders were reassigned to far-flung territories outside New York."

Jason's expression remained calm. This was no surprise.

"But… there was one exception."

Jason frowned, "Who?"

"Paul."

Wesley continued, "He was your most trusted man. Logically, he should've been eliminated. But he wasn't. In fact, he was given a large amount of territory."

Hearing this, Jason's expression darkened, anger simmering, "You'd better be sure of this, or else…"

Wesley answered seriously, "I know the consequences. I wouldn't lie."

Jason scrutinized Wesley's face, finding no hint of deception.

"Damn it!" Jason slammed the bar with his fist.

Paul.

How could it be him?

After sitting silently for a moment, Jason rose to leave.

"Don't change your number. I'll be in touch."

Wesley's face twisted in frustration, "Damn you, Jason! This is the last time I'm helping you."

"Really?" Jason held up his phone, showing a video.

"It has a recording of you, a conversation with your wife's lover, and everything we've said tonight. If you don't want trouble with the NYPD or Kingpin, you know what to do."

"Bastard!" Wesley's face reddened, rage boiling over.

He wanted to draw his gun and end it, but he knew he'd be the one left bleeding if he tried.

"Three times!" Wesley held up his hand, "I'll help you three more times. Delete everything, and don't make any copies."

Jason waved his phone with a mocking grin, "I'll be milking this favor forever."

With that, he walked out the door.

Wesley stared at his retreating figure, slumping to the floor in exhaustion.

---

Leaving Wesley's villa, Jason headed to an apartment building five blocks away, where Paul lived.

While the building wasn't as upscale as Jason's Manhattan high-rise or Wesley's suburban villa, it was still highly desirable.

Jason was deep in thought as he walked.

More than half an hour later, he arrived at the ten-story apartment complex. Paul's apartment was on the fifth floor.

Jason stood there, gazing at the dark windows before heading inside.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

At Paul's door, Jason knocked firmly.

After a few moments, an irritated voice answered from within.

"Who the hell is it?"

Jason lowered his voice, "It's me."

"Oh, shit!"

There was a clatter of noise from inside the room.