When Jason got off the plane, the driver first dropped him and Megan back at campus.
As they pulled up to the school gate, Megan turned to him with a teasing glint in her eyes, her voice silky:"Junior, why don't you kiss me?"
Jason froze for a second—so, senior sister couldn't hold back after all? A grin spread across his face."Well, since you asked, I guess I'll reluctantly oblige."
Leaning closer, he tilted his head.
But Megan suddenly leaned back, laughing softly, her eyes sparkling."Jason, what are you doing? I meant the snack wrappers—we left it a mess. Clean it up." She smirked. "Seriously, why are you sniffing around like that? What's going through your head?"
Jason blinked, dumbfounded. Before he could respond, Megan leaned in quick and kissed his cheek like a dragonfly touching water.
Then, without giving him a chance to react, she opened the door, hopped out, and walked through the gates with a playful wave, leaving Jason staring after her swaying figure.
"Alright, alright, Megan… so this is how you wanna play it?" Jason muttered. He had to admit—he'd just been thoroughly teased. The urge to push back was strong, but reason held him down.
The driver started the car, preparing to take him back to the villa. Jason clenched his jaw—he needed to vent this frustration somewhere. Maybe Grace would be the perfect outlet.
But just then, his phone buzzed. Caller ID: Aly.
He answered, and her anxious voice tumbled out before he could say hello:"Jason! Holly got into trouble—she's being harassed!"
She was talking so fast it sounded like she was tripping over her tongue.
"Slow down, what happened?" Jason asked firmly.
Lily took a shaky breath. "Remember how we invited you to go mountain off-roading with us, but you said you were out of town? We went without you."
Her voice dropped lower. "On the trail, this other group of off-roaders cut us off—completely reckless. Holly's car got sideswiped. And, of course, some girl from their group mouthed off first. Holly snapped back, but then these guys—like seven or eight of them, big dudes—stepped up like they were ready to throw down. Jason, there's no way I can protect Holly if this turns ugly…"
Jason's brows furrowed. The situation was clear: what started as a small skirmish had escalated fast.
Holly had posted on Instagram earlier about going off-road, but maybe because of her awkward encounter with Quinn and Megan last time, she hadn't messaged Jason directly. Instead, Aly had sent him the invite—which he'd declined since he was stuck in Miami.
"How many are we talking?" Jason asked.
"Seven or eight guys, four off-road rigs," Aly answered quickly.
"Text me the location. Stall them as long as you can. I'm on my way."
Jason hung up. He told the driver to stop at the campus lot, swapped out of the Rolls Cullinan into the matte-black Mercedes G63 he'd parked earlier.
At the same time, he opened the Car Club group chat and dropped a pin.
"Need backup. One of my friend getting harassed on the mountain trail. Anyone nearby with a rig, lend me a hand."
If this had been anyone else, the chat might've gone silent. But Jason?
The group blew up instantly.
"No way—who dares mess with Jason's Friends?"
"We can't let that slide. Where's the spot?"
"I'm close, got a Ford Raptor ready."
"I'm rolling in my Jeep Wrangler." – Mike
"Count me in. Land Cruiser here." – Lewis
"I'll join too—Lexus GX." – Luke
Within seconds, a convoy was forming.
Jason gripped the G63's wheel, eyes narrowing. Whoever dared touch Holly was about to regret it.
Of course, Jason wasn't just calling them for backup—he had another motive. As he'd said before, "troubling" others in small ways could actually strengthen bonds. As long as it didn't cost anyone much, it created a reason to meet face-to-face instead of just chatting online.
Money, Jason had plenty of. What he lacked were deeper connections. A chance like this could easily turn into an informal club gathering.
Soon after, Mike (nicknamed "Old Mike" in the group) sent him a private message:
"Jason, do you want to ping the Apex Club too? Some of their members are nearby."
Jason thought for a moment, then nodded to himself. Why not? He'd only just joined Apex, but his VIP membership meant people paid attention.
The quiet Apex Club chat suddenly exploded with notifications.
"Whoa—new VIP?"
"Didn't he just join? Who the hell is this guy?"
"That's Jason! I just saw him in Miami last week."
"Wait, a female classmate in trouble? Don't tell me that's Jason's girl."
"No way—who dares mess with the woman of a VIP?"
"Damn, I'm too far away. Wish I could help."
Jared:
"Shame I'm stuck in Florida, otherwise I could bring out two Raptors for you, Jason."
Another member chimed in:
"I'm nearby with a Hummer H1."
And another:
"Got a Mercedes Unimog close to the trail."
The Apex Club had members all over the country—hell, all over the world. They were strong, influential, and wealthy. But at the end of the day, distant water couldn't put out a nearby fire. Only two members happened to be within reach.
Still, the attention was huge. Both clubs were eager to help—not just out of goodwill, but out of strategy. Everyone wanted to use this chance to get closer to Jason.
People remembered: some one had sold his $5 million mansion directly to Jason, no hassle. Lewis' New Vision Media had been on the verge of collapse—until Jason casually invested over $30 million and wiped away the crisis overnight.
To average people, these guys were rich. But compared to Jason? They were small fry. A single flick of his wrist could change their fortunes.
Jason called Mike again."Mike, can you set up a helicopter right now?"
Mike answered immediately, "Already on it. I'll get the Gulfstream crew at the airport to handle clearance. The aircraft consultant's right next to me—we'll have you in the air in no time."
Jason smirked. "Make it something with presence. If I like the ride, maybe I'll buy one myself."
The female aircraft consultant, overhearing on speaker, perked up instantly. Her voice came through excited and sweet:"Don't worry, Jason—we'll get the AgustaWestland AW139 prepped for you right now. I'll personally come pick you up."
Mike added quickly:"I've got a driver en route to take you to the closest helipad. By the time you get there, the bird should be landing."
Efficiency was their strong suit. Within minutes, Jason was at the tarmac.
The AW139 descended with its rotors whipping the air, its sleek black body gleaming under the afternoon sun. Jason boarded, calm but sharp-eyed—he knew speed was everything right now.
Meanwhile, his driver had already taken the G63 and linked up with the incoming convoy. One by one, the off-road rigs from both clubs began converging, headlights glaring, engines rumbling—ready to back Jason's play.
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