Devil's Whisper Chapter 113: A Deal with the Devil

"I need some information from you... If you give me what I want, I'll get rid of the photos and the original contract, and you’ll have nothing to worry about anymore," Jason stated, his voice calm but firm.

"What kind of information?" Clark asked cautiously, his gaze flickering toward the masked man standing before him.

"Last night, you had a conversation with your old buddy Jim. He made you an offer—gave you a job," Jason began, his tone carrying an air of authority. "He wanted you to look into something called the Lowan Box. He also mentioned that it might be strongly linked to the original version of the Rubaiyat. So tell me, Clark, who—or what—is the Lowan Box? And why does Jim think it’s connected to the Rubaiyat?"

Clark sat still, listening carefully as sweat began to bead at his temples. His body tensed, a sick feeling twisting in his stomach. While he wasn’t officially inducted as a sworn member of The Watchers, Jim had always confided in him, preparing him for a bigger role—maybe even to take over one day. Giving up classified information to the masked man in front of him would mean betraying Jim’s trust. It would also cost him his place in the cult’s hierarchy, possibly leading to severe consequences—or worse, punishment.

But then there was the other side of this predicament. The masked man’s gun, and the contract Clark had foolishly signed—both were direct threats to his life and reputation. He had no doubt that Jason was the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on a threat. It all came down to one choice: protect his future within The Watchers, or ensure his own safety right here and now.

A few long seconds passed as he weighed his options. Then, with a quick breath, he made his decision.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about… You must have me confused with someone else," Clark said, forcing his voice to stay steady, though a slight tremor betrayed him.

Jason remained silent for a moment, studying him. Then, with a knowing smirk, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen, and suddenly, a voice filled the air. Clark’s voice. It was the conversation he’d had with Jim just the day before.

Clark’s face paled. His heart pounded as he listened to his own words being played back to him. His mind raced—how the hell had Jason gotten that recording?

Jason’s gaze bore into him. "Clark, if I can get my hands on these photos, then I have all the proof I need to confirm your connection to The Watchers. That’s exactly why I’m here."

Clark clenched his jaw, realizing he was out of moves. His bluff had failed spectacularly. There was no way to keep up the pretense that he didn’t know about the Lowan Box.

Growing up, people had always complimented him on his well-mannered nature, his intelligence, and his polished personality. His knowledge of history and artifacts had set him apart, earning him admiration. And over the years, he’d become addicted to that admiration. He thrived on it. The idea that his name could be dragged through the mud—that people would see him as nothing more than an accomplice to artifact smugglers—was unbearable.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to speak. "You must have tapped my phone," he accused, glaring at Jason. "That’s the only way you could’ve gotten that recording."

Jason remained impassive.

Clark swallowed hard. "I don’t know who you are or why you’re listening in on my conversations, but I’m willing to cooperate. I’ll tell you everything I know. But once I do, you have to give me back my contract and let me walk away. Unharmed."

Across the room, Kate remained silent, observing the exchange without uttering a single word. Jason had instructed her to stay quiet, not wanting Clark to recognize her voice. After all, Kate’s vlogs had exploded in popularity across the country, and with the way she spoke, it wouldn’t take long for Clark to connect the dots.

So she held her tongue, her lips pressed tight, the cool air of the room brushing against her skin as she watched Jason take control.

Seeing him now—questioning Clark with a commanding edge, issuing orders with icy precision—a strange feeling unfurled in her chest, hot and restless, blooming beneath her ribs. Jason was dominant in a way she hadn’t seen before, his presence filling the room like a storm rolling in, dark and unyielding. Cold, ruthless, without mercy, he loomed over Clark, the revolver steady in his grip, his voice a blade that cut through the tension with surgical intent.

Her heart pounded like crazy, a wild, erratic thudding that echoed in her ears, drowning out the faint creak of the house settling around them. It wasn’t just fear or adrenaline fueling it—there was something else, a flicker of awe, maybe even desire, sparked by the raw power he wielded.

The man she’d known as steady and restrained had shed that skin, revealing a side that thrilled her as much as it unnerved her, and the heat of it coiled low in her belly, unbidden but undeniable.

Clark exhaled sharply, a ragged sound that broke the silence as his resistance crumbled under Jason’s relentless pressure.

“Lowan Box is an ex-member of the Pathway of Ascendants,” he rasped. “According to Jim, he might be the killer that the police are hunting for right now.”

Jason and Kate exchanged a brief glance, their eyes locking for a fleeting second across the dim room. The faint glow of the nightlight caught the edge of his mask, illuminating the sharp line of his jaw, but it was his gaze—steady, piercing—that held her. This was new, a piece of the puzzle they hadn’t yet considered, and it snapped into place with a quiet, electric jolt.

Lowan Box—an ex-member of the cult her father had chased, the same cult tied to Ryder, to Sasha’s mutilated body—now flagged as a potential killer by Jim, the very man pulling strings behind Clark. The revelation pulsed between them, a thread connecting the blood-soaked dots they’d been chasing, and Kate’s mind raced, piecing it together even as her pulse still thrummed with the intensity of Jason’s dominance. The stakes had just risen, and the storm she’d sensed brewing beneath Clark’s calm facade was breaking wide open.

Clark sighed, resignation settling over him. "Now it’s my turn to ask. Who the hell are you? And why are you so interested in the Lowan Box? More importantly, why the hell were you tapping my calls?"

Jason’s expression hardened.

"You don’t get to ask questions. Speak only when spoken to." Clark tensed, but before he could protest, Jason pressed on. "Why would an ex-member of the Pathway of Ascendants be a suspect?"

Clark hesitated, his breath shallow and uneven, the weight of Jason’s revolver still a lingering ghost against his forehead. He knew there was no use in holding back anymore—resistance had crumbled under the pressure of that unrelenting grip, the threat of a bullet just a whisper away.

“Because the killer is targeting former members of the Pathway of Ascendants,” he said, his voice tight. “People who turned their backs on the cult after witnessing its brutal, satanic rituals. They rejected its teachings, renounced Satanism entirely, and made it known to the world. That’s why they’re being hunted.”

Jason let those words sink in, his focus remained razor-sharp. Lowan Box—an ex-member, a hunted renegade—tied to Sasha’s mutilated body, to the cult her father had died chasing. The threads were tightening, weaving a tapestry of vengeance and ritualistic fury that stretched beyond what they’d imagined. He tilted his head slightly, the mask shifting against his jaw.

“I know you’re not an official member of The Watchers,” he finally said. “So tell me—how do you know things that only insiders should?”

Clark lifted his chin slightly, a flash of defiance flaring in his eyes despite the sweat beading on his brow. “Jim is preparing me to be his successor,” he said, his tone edged with a brittle pride that trembled under scrutiny. “That’s why I know.”

Jason’s lips curled into a faint, mirthless smirk beneath the mask, barely audible as he leaned closer. “And Jim put his trust in someone as weak as you?” The revolver glinted faintly in the dim light, a silent reminder of the power he held, and the air crackled with the unspoken threat.

Clark’s face darkened instantly, his features twisting with a sudden surge of anger that overrode his fear. “I know what you are—some media hack who stumbled onto something you weren’t supposed to see,” he spat, his voice rising with a reckless edge. “You’re poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. That’s why you’re here.”

Jason chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that rumbled from his chest, clearly unimpressed. The sound was cold, dismissive, and it sent a shiver down Kate’s body where she stood, silent and watchful.

“Forget about who we are,” he said, his tone hardening. “We could be anyone. Now, tell me—where is Lowan Box? What else do you know about him?”

Clark hesitated, his defiance faltering as his gaze flicked to the gun, then back to Jason’s shadowed eyes. He shook his head, a quick, jerky motion that betrayed his fraying nerves. “I don’t know where he is,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with a reluctant surrender. “And as far as I can tell, there’s no record of a Lowan Box in the entire Australian national identity card system. It’s like he doesn’t exist.”

Jason arched an eyebrow beneath the mask, a subtle shift that sharpened his expression into something predatory. “You think I’m bluffing?” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, each word laced with a quiet fury. “That I won’t take this contract and make sure the whole world sees it?”

Clark’s composure cracked, his breath hitching as panic surged back into his chest. “Please, don’t do this,” he pleaded, his voice rising in a desperate pitch that echoed off the walls. “I’m telling you the truth!”

Kate watched it all unfold, her silence a shield as her heart raced with that strange, intoxicating mix of awe and tension. Jason’s dominance—cold, precise, unrelenting—stirred her again, her pulse thudding in time with Clark’s panicked breaths. The revelation about Lowan Box spun through her mind, a dark thread tying the cult’s past to the killings now, and she felt the ground shift beneath her.