Chapter 11: The Calculus of Cruelty
Elijah walked towards his bed and picked up the phone, the glass cool beneath his fingers, and immediately dialed a number saved under an innocuous contact name: 'Study Group: Geometry.'
It rang twice before a nervous voice answered. "H-hello? Elijah?"
"Chang," Elijah said, his voice flat, demanding immediate attention. "Good, you picked up."
"Yeah, of course, Elijah. Is… is everything okay? You don't usually call unless..." Chang trailed off, his habitual anxiety bleeding into his tone, recalling the unforgivable offense that kept him indebted.
"Everything's fine, but I have a task for you," Elijah cut him off, not interested in the boy's fear. "A simple one, but it needs discretion. You live close to Chloe, correct? On the West Side, near the park?"
"Y-yes, just three blocks away. I usually take the bus route by her apartment complex," Chang confirmed, trying to sound helpful despite the tremor in his voice.
"Good. Here's what I need you to do today. I need eyes on Chloe. I want you to monitor her movements and take pictures—timestamps, locations, context, everything. Starting now, until the evening."
Chang paused, the silence stretching uncomfortably. "Monitor Chloe? But... why, Elijah? She's... isn't she your girlfriend? I thought you guys were going strong."
Elijah let out a short, cold exhale that sounded more like a sigh of contempt than amusement. "Not anymore, Chang. She's moving into the category of 'useful asset.' She's a cheating girlfriend I intend to break properly—but I need more proof on someone first." His voice lowered, predatory patience threading through every word. "This is your chance to pay off another piece of that debt. Unless you'd prefer I call Principal Chen about that little incident with the locker room cameras?"
Chang swallowed audibly. "No—no! I'll do it." Elijah could practically hear the boy sweating through the phone.
"I have a business plan, a very profitable one, and Chloe fits the model perfectly for a start. You don't need to know the details right now, but trust me, this is going to be big. Big enough to change both our futures."
He leaned in toward the speaker, dropping his voice to a low, persuasive pitch. "You know how much these rich, socially inept nerds and geeks in our school would pay for a few minutes with someone like Chloe? That desperate virgin, Keisuke, would probably sell a kidney just to sniff one of her gym socks. And guess who's going to supply the demand?"
Chang made a strangled noise, the implications dawning on him with sickening clarity. "Demand? Elijah, you're not—you can't seriously be planning to—"
"Supply," Elijah interrupted smoothly, tapping his fingernail against the phone's edge. "Think of it as… an exclusive subscription service. And you, Chang, get to be the silent partner. Unless you'd rather I reconsider your usefulness?" The unspoken threat hung between them, thick as the static on the line.
Chang swallowed hard. "Hmm... I see. You think she's meeting someone today, then?"
"I don't think, Chang. I know. She told me she had the afternoon free and she was disappointed I couldn't meet. That disappointment was a lie, a thin cover for her excitement to be with Mark. That arrogant idiot has been sniffing around what's not his, and I need those pictures specifically against him." Elijah's voice tightened with possessive dislike, though it had nothing to do with emotion and everything to do with territory.
Elijah continued, his tone becoming subtly suggestive, a calculated reward dangled over the abyss of Chang's desperation. "Look, if you do your job well today—if you get me definitive proof of this idiot Mark, and everything else—you might be the first person to benefit from this venture. Think of it, Chang: You could be the first to enjoy the spoils of this acquisition, ofcourse, only if you can afford it. This could also clear your debt with me entirely, and then some."
Chang stammered, his nervous energy spiking at the implication of the reward. "I- I… are you going to force Chloe?"
Elijah sighed audibly, rolling his shoulders against the tension creeping in. "Chang. Not everything requires force. Some people ruin themselves willingly—you just have to let them." His fingers tapped against the phone casing, a slow, deliberate rhythm. "Chloe's already halfway there. She'll dive headfirst into her own destruction if I simply remove the safety net."
Chang exhaled shakily on the other end, the sound tinny through the speaker. "But... what if she doesn't? What if she backs out or—"
"Drop it," Elijah interrupted, his voice hardening like chilled steel. "You're asking too many damn questions for a guy with his balls in a vice." The silence that followed was thick with Chang's unspoken terror. Elijah rolled his eyes and softened his tone just enough—the predator feigning patience. "Look. Those pictures? They're not about Chloe. They're leverage against Mark. The prick thinks he can sniff around what's mine without consequences. That ends today."
Chang stammered, his nervous energy spiking. "R-right! Yes, sir. I understand. I... I understand, Elijah. I'll take pictures. I'll get you the proof on Mark."
"Good boy," Elijah murmured, the compliment a subtle leash. "Just send the images directly to the burner number I sent you. And don't contact me again unless it's critical. End of conversation."
Elijah hung up without waiting for a goodbye, already satisfied.
A few minutes later, a frustrated knock rattled his door.
"Elijah Miller! Get ready! We need to leave!" Elara called from the hallway.
Elijah opened the door, leaning lazily against the frame, fully dressed in casual loungewear—a clear sign he wasn't going anywhere.
"Are you still sticking to this ridiculous 'grounded' stance?" Elara demanded, her voice tight with forced calm. "I told you, I am lifting the grounding for this trip. We need you. Akari needs to feel supported."
"I appreciate your concern, Elara," Elijah drawled, pushing off the doorframe. "But I have to decline. I broke your rule, and I must accept the consequences of the grounding. That's the principle of cause and effect, isn't it?"
Elara stepped closer, her face hardening. "Don't use my own logic against me, you brat. We both know you simply don't want to spend your time running domestic errands. This isn't a game, Elijah. This is about family responsibility."
"It's called respecting the boundaries you established, Elara," Elijah countered smoothly, emphasizing the word boundaries. "You said I was grounded for a week. A week means a week. If I break it now, the structure you're trying to impose collapses. I am showing Akari and Iris that rules have weight in this house."
He paused, letting his gaze hold hers. "Besides, I don't see what kind of support I can offer by sitting in a lawyer's office or watching someone pack socks. You and Iris are sufficient. I'll stay here, rest, and prepare for the enormous amount of schoolwork would miss this coming week."
Elara's frustration was palpable. She opened her mouth to argue, but the words failed her. She knew arguing would only delay the inevitable. "Fine. Fine, Elijah. You stay here."
She turned and called down the hall. "Iris! Akari! We're going!"
Iris appeared, looking exhausted but resolute, followed closely by Akari, who looked small and anxious. Akari, before walking out the door, stopped. Her eyes looked directly at Elijah, wide almost pleading—a silent acknowledgment of their shared, chaotic bond.
Elijah gave her an emotionless nod, acknowledging the look but refusing to move.
Elara addressed him with sharp finality. "There's food in the fridge. We will be gone for hours, likely all day. We need to be back before the offices close. Don't cause trouble."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Elijah murmured, returning to his textbook.
Elara glared one last time, a ruthless edge hardening her features. "Since you want to respect the boundaries so much, I'll ensure you stay within them."
Elijah heard the determined footsteps retreat down the stairs, followed by the heavy clunk of the front door closing. Then came the series of metallic, decisive clicks—the sounds of the deadbolt, the secondary chain lock, and the lock on the security door. She had locked every main exit.
Elijah laughed, a short, dry chuckle of appreciation. "The old cage trick. Vintage Elara." He snickered, shaking his head at his mother's futile attempts at containment. Amusing. He was alone, locked in, and ready to break the rules.
He strode into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes and stepping under the hot stream of the shower. The water ran down his face, masking the cold smile that spread across his features.
His new business was deliciously simple: escort services for the elite students of their prestigious school.
He lathered the soap into his hair, his thoughts methodically calculating the logistics. Chloe was the perfect inaugural asset. She was conventionally attractive, already sexually promiscuous.
His school was filled with rich nerds, socially crippled boys, and desperate men who would sacrifice half their trust fund just to spend an hour with a beautiful, popular girl like Chloe. He already had a mental list of a couple of other girls in their social circle—gorgeous, vain, and financially hungry girls who were giving their bodies away for ego boosts, climbing the social ladder and cheap drinks. He would use Chloe to establish the market, then expand.
She was cheating on him, which was an act of rebellion against his authority. The girl loves sex so much that she would cheat on him with another boy? Fine. He would give her lots of it—but on his terms, and for profit. She thought him to be the caring, but tragically neglectful, boyfriend, and that was exactly the mask he would use to lock her in his grasp and exploit her. He would ensure she understood she was too valuable to be giving sex away for free.
"Isn't that what a good boyfriend is supposed to do?" Elijah thought, a chilling wave of self-justification washing over him. "She's handing out a high-value product for free. As her partner, it's my duty to show her the right way to profit from her own assets."
The thought was so perfectly twisted, so cynical, and yet so financially sound, that Elijah couldn't suppress the genuine joy it brought him. He threw his head back and the empty shower stall filled with his cold, evil laugh.