Work Text:
No one bad-mouthed Valentine. No one. Jace made it his own personal vendetta against anyone who tried to, especially when the person who has the audacity to speak illy of their Mob Leader was someone close to them. Out of all the people that personally knew Valentine Morgenstern, the lead of the Alicante Mafia, commonly referred to as The Circle, it was Anson Pangborn that set his own fate. All sources traced back to him, there was no way for him to deny that he had been trading information with outsiders and trying to convince his own people that their boss was crooked. Valentine did not run a dangerous ship, there was no reason to put outsiders in a position that they did not need to be in. In fact, The Circle was more similar to a neighborhood watch group than the mafia that was portrayed by the media. However, Circle members did carry guns and were trained and unafraid to use them on anyone who crossed them.
Jace joined after his mother and father were killed. They were Circle members, loyal to the man that raised Jace after their murder. Jace earned his first gun when he was fifteen. He had been under careful watch by Valentine for the previous five years and the determining factor for Jace’s true initiation to the intense training he endured with his foster brother, Alec Lightwood. They had spent nearly every waking day with each other in the gym with their trainer, Hodge Starkweather, who was Valentine’s right-hand man.
Hodge was killed when Jace was seventeen. While Jace mourned him, he was ecstatic to hear that Valentine wanted to promote him to take Hodge’s newly empty position. That was when Jace met Clary. Although he felt a close bond to Valentine, he knew very little about his family. He knew that his wife left with his best friend, feeling unsafe with her husband and much rather preferring the comfort of Lucian Graymark. Jace knew that he hated her, but he found a deeper-rooted hatred when he saw the teenage girl with red curly hair walking around Valentine’s manor, her sloped nose buried in a sketch book. What kind of person leaves their child?
He saw Clary every day, but took weeks to actually speak to her. He wasn’t there to get to know Valentine’s daughter, he was there to serve his leader and learn about the business. Being second in command placed a lot of responsibility on the teenager’s shoulders. However, the second the girl’s mouth opened, Jace was a goner. He remembered the exact moment he heard her voice, and he thought of it frequently. She was a year and a few months younger than Jace and an entire foot shorter. Valentine’s first official mission for Jace as his second was to chaperone Clary and Isabelle Lightwood while they celebrated his daughter’s sixteenth birthday.
“A babysitter?” Jace and Clary had said at the exact same time. Jace was expecting his missions to be of a higher profile, like maybe collecting a debt from an old business partner, or something that actually required him to use his gun.
Jace spent the next Saturday evening sitting on a carpet covered box, his gun pressed into his hip and rollerblades strapped onto his feet, while Clary and Isabelle skated in circles in an empty rink that Valentine had rented for them.
“Jace!” Isabelle, his foster sister, had exclaimed. “Come on, loosen up! We’re the only ones here!”
Clary had yet to speak to Jace, but Jace didn’t think much of it. The girls dressed to the nines for some reason that Jace would never understand. Just like Isabelle had said, they were the only ones there, no one would see them in their little shorts and colorful tops that matched their makeup. Clary wasn’t even allowed to have pictures taken of her. Valentine’s biggest weakness was his daughter, so if she was virtually non-existent, then it was much harder to know she even existed.
“Look, I’ve been telling Clary this entire time that you can do a backflip, so you have to at least do that for her birthday.” Isabelle had said as she approached Jace, leaving a wobbly Clary in her dust.
“I’m not doing a backflip, Iz.” Jace groaned, reaching up to push his wavy hair out of his eyes.
“I think you should. Either that, or stop looking so miserable. It’s really killing the mood.” Clary said as she rolled up, flailing her arms around in an attempt to balance herself and not crash into her friend.
“I’ll take the latter, thanks.” Jace muttered.
He ended up warming up to the girls, especially Clary, by the end of the night. He never got around to his backflip, however. By the end of the night, the three laid on the cold, polished hardwood, staring up at the disco ball that hung from the ceiling.
“Can you take a picture of us, Jace?” Isabelle asked from the middle of them.
“Don’t ask me that, you know I can’t.” Jace muttered, his eyes not leaving the shiny mirrored ball.
“I’m not going to post it anywhere; I just want it for the memory.” Isabelle rebutted.
“Valentine said no pictures. Just remember it.” Jace sighed, then sat up, then turned to look at the girls. They were pretty, Jace was able to admit it, but he didn’t let his mind wander. One of them was practically his sister, and the other was practically his boss. “Are you guys ready to go?”
Both the girls sighed in reply, then kicked their skates off and stood up. The ride home seemed somber. When they got to the Morgenstern Manor, the three of them got out of the car Valentine had loaned Jace for the night, and Jace followed the two girls with his hand on his gun, ready to draw it if needed.
Though his interactions with the boss’s daughter were limited, their acquaintanceship soon turned to a friendship. Valentine found it appropriate for Jace to spend his time with Clary due to their closeness in age and Valentine’s trust in his right-hand man. Soon enough, Jace was going out of his way to show Clary everything she was missing out on while being locked up and hidden from the outside world, and Clary was tracing Jace in her books. For his twenty first birthday, Clary had convinced Valentine to send his eighteen-year-old daughter across the continent to Germany with her bodyguard and his foster siblings to celebrate. She had to get Alec to speak with her father, which was something he had never done directly. In the end, Jace got his birthday surprise.
“Jace, I need you to accompany Isabelle on an ambassador trip to Frankfurt. Clarissa will be going, so I’m sending Alexander with you as backup.”
This was unexpected for Jace. He was excited to tell Clary that she would be able to not only leave the city, but leave the country. However, he kept his composure. This was a business trip.
“Yes sir,” Jace nodded, his eyes never leaving his mentors.
Little did Jace know, as soon as they got to the house Valentine had rented, Clary turned around with a huge grin painted on her face. She pushed the door to reveal a littering of balloons and confetti.
“Happy birthday!” The three conspirers exclaimed, and Clary threw her arms around Jace. They didn’t embrace often, but when they did, Jace held on as long as he wanted.
“What?” Jace asked, wrapping his arms around Clary’s shoulders, his eyes looking at his siblings, who were grinning just as wide as Clary was.
They spent five days drunk in Germany. The entire trip was foggy, but on their last night, Jace had a moment of clarity. Clary wore a black pleather skirt that covered the bottom half of a black bodysuit with cutouts in the midsection. Her hair was down, and her face had a minimal amount of makeup. She had been too drunk to do an intricate eye look, but at least she put her black boots on the right feet. She found herself sitting on the bar, try to grab another beer from the bartender, and somehow, Jace found himself standing between his legs. He hands numbly found their ways into his golden hair and she guided his face to hers. That was the most sober Jace had been in days.
It felt so right to have his lips on Clary, feeling her body under his palms, but everything in Jace’s mind screamed at him to stop. This was his boss’s daughter; he wouldn’t live a day after Valentine found out. Nothing could stop him, though. He pulled her closer, feeling comfort from the heat of her skin. They kissed like no one was in the crowded bar, and didn’t stop until the Lightwoods pulled them away from each other. Alec had both his hands around Jace’s biceps and Isabelle stood beside a flushed Clary, helping her scoot off the bar without flashing all the other patrons. Clary and Jace stared at each other, their chests heaving and lips parted, glistening with the other person’s saliva. Jace noticed Isabelle wrap an arm around Clary’s narrow shoulders, speaking words to her that Jace couldn’t make out over the music.
“We should go,” Alec said over the music, then let go of Jace, who hadn’t stopped looking at Clary.
Jace and Clary didn’t speak after that, besides a casual “hello” when they saw one another in the manor. Jace began to indulge himself with Valentine. He spent every waking moment by his side, learning and training with him. He hoped Valentine didn’t notice any hesitation when it came to his daughter, who was a secret to most people. He made himself scarce at her nineteenth birthday party, and volunteered Alec to spend the day with the girls so that Jace could trace down who had been hinting to their association to the citizens of Idris, regardless of how much Valentine assured him that he had better things to do than to listen to rumors,
That was how Jace found Pangborn. He stalked him for days before, after speaking with a few of the lower circle members and hearing that he was telling others about how Valentine was not who he truly was, and that he hid things from his loyal followers. Jace wanted to catch him in the act, and anyone knew that if Jace wanted something, he worked for it. It took many sleepless nights for Jace to catch Pangborn meeting with Malachi Dieudonne in an attempt to pursued their fellow lower status circle members to find their leader unfit.
“So,” Jace smirked as he approached them, not being able to stifle his chuckle when they jump. Jace’s fingers wrap around the grip of his gun, but not drawing it. “When the boss is away, you sit around and gossip? Where’s your pillow fights and nail polish?”
“Herondale,” Pangborn acknowledged him. Dieudonne seemed quite eager to leave, seeing as he didn’t want to be in the boss’s bad graces, so he began to pick up his belongings.
“Sit your ass down, Dieudonne, where do you think you’re going?” Jace ordered, his grip tightening around his gun. He knew how easy it would be to simply draw his gun and end the rumor at the source.
“What are you gonna do, run to daddy? He isn’t your real dad, you know that right?” Pangborn rolled his eyes.
“I think I’m old enough to handle things myself.” Jace said, pulling his gun from the waistband of his pants.
“What, are you gonna kill me? Go right on ahead, but that won’t stop people from finding out about Carrie, or whatever the hell her name is.”
A shot rang out, but it wasn’t from Jace’s gun. Pangborn’s body fell backwards and hit the ground with a silencing thud. Jace looked to Dieudonne, who had begun gathering his things again, and fired his gun. It wasn’t nearly his first time killing someone, after the first few bodies you see, you become numb to it.
Jace turned to see Valentine standing a few yards behind him, his gun still extended.
“How did they know?” He asked. Jace had never seen the man afraid before, but he would have to guess that the way he was acting was the way he showed fear.
“I didn’t tell anyone, sir.” Jace said, placing his gun back in his jeans.
“The Lightwoods are sworn to secrecy. How did they know, Jace?” Valentine asked again, his voice sterner than the last.
“Sir, I swear on my mother that I don’t know. I haven’t told anyone. I wouldn’t tell anyone; I would never want to put Clary in danger.” Jace pressed, raising his hands up slightly in surrender when he realized that Valentine had not put his gun away.
“Why, because you lust after her?” Valentine accused, taking Jace off guard. “Feelings aren’t enough, son, lust isn’t enough.”
“Sir,” Jace spoke softly, trying to suppress all the emotions he was feelings. Anger. He was not Valentine’s son. He was Valentine’s associate. Confusion. Did he know about Germany? Worry. Were his feelings going to get him killed?
“You better have a great excuse.” Valentine spit.
“Sir,” Jace said once more, his eyes locked on his boss. “Anything between Clary and I is business. We’re friends, but I realized that things were progressing past that, so I took a step back.”
“Son, I know what it’s like to be a young man.”
“I’m not your son.” Jace said calmly, reminding his mentor.
However, despite Jace’s comment, Valentine continued. “I know what happens when you’re alone with a young lady, but there needs to be boundaries.”
Jace stood and listened to him.
“You need to step back some. I know that you have made yourself scarce around her, but it’s not enough. She asks me about you. It’s infuriating, to be honest. Please, don’t take offense, son, but-”
“I am not your son.” Jace said louder this time, cutting off his boss. “I am not your son.” He repeated after seeing that he caught Valentine’s attention. “And Clary is your daughter. I know that. I respect you, I respect her, and I try. I try so hard, sir. Do you think I want to feel things for her? And risk my job-my life?”
The words came out of Jace’s mouth before he could stop them, but they were all true. Jace had not stopped thinking about Germany since it happened. He could see himself loving Clary, but he didn’t even know if he was capable of feeling that strongly for another person.
Valentine seemed to have heard enough. “Go home, Jace. That’s an order.”
Realizing that he had said too much, Jace simply dropped his arms to his side and walked away.