Y'all, I am positively overwhelmed with excitement that you're all loving the story! Like every time I get a new review, I squeal.

Also, if anyone has song suggestions for Jace's character, leave them in your review! (I'm kinda thinking, like, Strip That Down by Liam Payne. Thoughts?)


I pitched the phone at the wall when the line went dead. I didn't care that it wasn't mine—I was absolutely, positively seething. And who the hell was this guy to think he didn't need to have a passcode on his phone?

I stood behind the couch for a minute, arms crossed over my chest that was rising and falling rapidly. Then I remembered something Jace had said last night in the limo. What I'm talking about is I thought I was just bidding on a date with the daughter of one of New York's biggest criminals.

Why did he think my father was a criminal? And how would he know, if it was even true?

I was too antsy to sit around waiting for Jace to wake up in his own time. I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.

It took me literal seconds to come face to face with the white bedroom door. I began to pound my fists against it, loud and hard. "Rise and shine, sunshine!" I shouted. "It's a beautiful day to get the fuck out of bed!"

He pulled open the door a moment later, expression caught between grogginess, annoyance, and a glare. "Can I help you, Clarissa?"

"I really hope so, Jonathan." I glared right back at him.

He looked mighty startled by the name.

"Where did you hear that name?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I pressed a hand to my chest in feinted sympathy. "Is that not the name you gave my father when you bought me from him?!"

He rubbed his temples, a look on his face that made me think he was considering taping my mouth closed. "Oh my God. It's not even nine a.m. and I'm already sick of you."

I swatted at his still-bare chest. "Not the time!"

"But it's time for me to get up?" He questioned and then sighed and leaned against the door, his arms crossed and his expression mostly annoyance at this point. "Is there something you needed?"

I gave him a disbelieving look. "Are you kidding me? I literally just said that."

"Be more specific."

"Why did you tell me last night that my father was one of New York's biggest criminals?"

He shifted, avoiding my eyes suddenly. I waited, eyebrows raised at him. "Because he is." He looked back up at me, eyes narrowed slightly. "What did you think I meant?"

I wondered if he was talking about that hit and run my Dad had been involved in—but I highly doubted that would prompt someone to call you "one of New York's biggest criminals".

"I don't know!" I hissed. After a moment, I propped my hands on my hips. "I think you have a little explaining to do."

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding, and stepped around me, walking straight through the living room into the open kitchen. He went for the coffee machine, putting a mug under it and I leaned against the counter.

"Well, start talking."

He leaned against the counter beside the coffee machine and I trained my eyes on his to stop myself from looking at his very prominent abs. "You know why I gave Valentine the name Jonathan?"

I gave him a look that said, How in the hell am I supposed to know that?

"It was because I'm sure he would have recognized my name. My last name, I mean. My looks are enough of a giveaway already." He paused, punching a few buttons on the machine. "My real name is Jace Herondale. I've been going by Jonathan Wayland since I got back to New York."

"Why?" I asked. He was looking at me like him telling me his last name was supposed to connect some magical dots in my brain.

"Because I didn't want your father getting suspicious because the son of the man he murdered was back in town."

I gaped at him. "Murdered?"

He pulled the mug away from the machine. He gave me a tight lipped smile. "Didn't think Daddy Dearest was capable of murder?" Jace took a drink from the mug. He chuckled. "I'm not entirely sure why you're all that surprised. You know, the whole selling-you-off-to-the-highest-bidder thing considered."

"I thought it was a Win-A-Date," I glared at him.

He mocked a smile. "Oh, it was—just not for you." He paused and then: "You do know that human trafficking is illegal, right?"

I rolled my eyes, impatient and fed-up. "I thought I pointed that out last night, but apparently you weren't listening."

"You're right; I was too distracted by your hair." He smirked at me before me took another sip.

I flipped him off. "Well why would you coming back to town make him suspicious?"

"Because he obviously worked pretty hard to cover up what he did—especially if you didn't know—and I bet he thinks the only person who could ruin that is me. Considering that my dad uncovered a lot of pretty incriminating stuff on yours."

I cocked my head. "And how did he manage that?"

"He was a lawyer. A damn good one, at that. Valentine hired him for a case some ten years ago, so he had access to all sorts of stuff about Morgenstern Industries. He never told me much, but mind you, I was ten so."

"Are you telling me that he found out—that your dad dug up enough to take down Valentine?"

Jace nodded, a grin tugging up the corners of his lips. He had that same smug expression as last night when he won the auction. Then the expression fell. "There's only one issue we have to deal with first, however."

I raised my eyebrows in question.

"Everything my dad uncovered went missing the day he was murdered. I'm guessing Valentine had it destroyed."

"Well," I started, chewing at my bottom as I thought. "I could start by looking through my father's files, but—"

"Yes! You can sneak into his files. There has to be something there on Stephen Herondale."

"That might be an issue."

Jace half gaped at me. "Why would that be an issue? Don't you have like, total security clearance or something? You work there. You were his successor."

I stalked over to where his phone had landed on the living floor after I'd pitched it at the wall earlier. I handed the now- completely shattered device to him as I said, "I called him."

"So?" His eyes were bulging at the sight of his phone screen.

"I threatened to call the cops on him."

"And are you going to?"

"I can't."

"Of course you can, what're you talking about? I'm sure I can dig up some evidence to prove that he sold you off."

"Well, for one, Jace, I'm pretty sure you'd be in the wrong in that situation, too, considering you bought me. And he blackmailed me."

Jace glanced at me tentatively. "What does he have to blackmail you with? You didn't get mad and throw someone at a wall I hope."

"He threatened to hurt my mom. And then he immediately proceeded to threaten my brother."

"Christ," he raked his hands through his already-disheveled hair. "You shouldn't have called."

"Really? I had no idea. Could you please point out more blatantly obvious things for me?"

"Clari—"

"Oh, I know! Why don't you tell me that lamp shines light and I'll act surprised!"

He studied me for a second. "How about I tell you how difficult you are instead, and you try and deny it."

I took a step towards him. I put a hand on his shoulder and tilted my head back to meet his eyes. "We will be discussing this further when I get back."

He arched a brow at me. "Where are you going?"

I glanced back at him over my shoulder as I headed for the elevator, pulling my bank card from my bra. I had completely forgotten I'd shoved it in there last night. "You didn't think I'd just walk around in this dress for who knows how long, did you?"

He smirked up at me from under unfairly long lashes. "I was hoping."

I rolled my eyes despite the fact that he couldn't see it. "I'll pay for that, by the way." I gestured to the broken phone in his hand, grinning slightly, as the elevator doors closed between us.


My original plan had been to go out and buy some new clothes, I mean that was the whole reason I'd whipped my bank card out of my bra in front of Jace (well, not the whole reason). But now that just seemed kind of ridiculous. I mean, really, what was the probability that anyone would be home to see me gathering up a crap-ton of clothes? My mom would likely be out at brunch or shopping with her book club, my father would be at work, and Sebastian was never home. He hadn't been in years.

So I caught a cab and told the driver my address. The ride was fairly short, only after he'd started driving away did I realize I didn't have my keys—I hadn't been thinking I would be leaving the event last night with whoever won a date with me. But, clearly, things were a little different now.

I knocked on the door, and a minute later one of the cleaning ladies answered. She smiled at me and teased me for forgetting my keys; I laughed and headed up the stairs to my room. I'd been a few paychecks away from having saved up enough money to buy my own house—and not something huge like this one. I had been thinking something medium sized, maybe small if it was spacious. I'd been saving for nearly three years now, and I felt cheated now—because if I had to marry Jace, then wasn't I also expected to live with him?

I kicked my heels off and went to plug my phone in. I hoped it would at least charge some before I had to unplug it again.

I began grabbing handfuls of clothes, shoving them into my suitcases, into backpacks, I didn't care. I even grabbed a few mementos—like all the pictures hanging up, sitting on my dresser, my makeup, my jewellery collection, shoes. Honestly, I just grabbed as much as I could.

I was in the middle of sitting on my suitcase to try and zip it closed it had so much junk in it when a voice startled me.

"Clary, what're you doing home?" I spun around, hoping I didn't have that deer-caught-in-headlights look on my face. "Shouldn't you be at work? Why are you packing a bag? Are you going out of town? Why didn't you tell me?"

The instinct came to me instantly: lie. "Oh, hey Mom. I was just—well, me and Simon were going to go"—I sighed—"…he's dragging me to a comic convention in LA tomorrow. Thought I'd get a head start on packing."

"Head start?" My Mom laughed. "If you're leaving tomorrow, this is a little last minute."

It felt like my heart was caught in my throat as I spoke, and I thought I might just choke on it. I forced myself to roll my eyes and muttered, "Simon's a little last minute."

She shook her head, still laughing softly. "Here, let me help you honey." She grabbed the zipper, pulling it along with ease while I was still perched atop the suitcase, slightly out of breath from struggling with it for so long.

She smiled at me, and then pressed a swift kiss to my temple. "I've got to get going—I'm meeting Maryse at Chanel. But I'll see you when you get back. Love you!" She called as the clicks of her heels sounded down the hall.

I flunked onto my bed, only capable of thinking of how devastated she would be to discover all of her husband's misdeeds when I put him behind bars—where he belonged if Jace was to be trusted.


The amount of eyebrow raising so far is not okay guys. Next chapter is gonna be so much fun, guys. I'm so excited.

Again, song recommendations for Jace's character (even if we don't know a whole lot about him yet), or Clary's are welcome/appreciated!