HALSTON
The neon sign outside the venue was bright enough to qualify as a public nuisance, bleeding deep pink and blue light across the rain-slicked pavement.
I spotted her almost immediately through the windshield.
She was standing near the curb, her hair slightly unkempt, looking very drunk, very stubborn, and very much a disaster.
A man in an expensive jacket was hovering far too close to her, his hands gesturing as he tried to block her path.
Kaira was clearly trying to terminate the conversation by repeatedly lifting her left hand, shoving her palm toward him to show him her ring as she mouthed.
She had clearly told him she was married several times already, but the idiot was entirely illiterate when it came to boundaries.
I never thought I’d see a day when she’d tell anyone she is married.
I killed the engine, stepped out of the car, and started walking toward the curb.
Each step promised violence for some reason.
The bastard leans in and attempts to force a kiss.
Before I could even get close enough to intervene, I see her move, her fist crashes into his eye socket like a hammer.
My girl.
The man staggered backwards, his hands flying up to clutch his face as he let out a sharp howl of pain.
“You crazy psychopath!” he screamed, his voice cracking.
Shouting for a mere punch when he was supposed to be more worried about worse fates.
“Marrieeeeeed” Her slurred voice rolled, her balance swaying slightly as she pointed a finger at him.
He cursed loudly, casting a terrified glance toward her before turning and retreating down the alley.
I stopped a foot behind her, my eyes tracing the small, red flush on her knuckles as I call.
“Kaira.”
She turned around, her eyes squinting through the neon haze as she tried to focus on my face.
Then, her lips curved into an unprompted smile.
“Oh!
There you are.”
God help me.
She was drunk enough to actually be friendly.
The adrenaline still pounding in my veins, I watched her sway on her feet, her eyelids drooping.
She looked like she might fall over at any second.
I took a step closer, catching her before she collapsed.
Her small frame was trembling, her face flushed, eyes barely open.
She was done.
Completely out of it.
The cool night air did nothing to sober her up by the time the convertible cleared the gates of the estate.
I killed the engine, walked around to the passenger side, and lifted her out of the vehicle.
She didn’t stir, her breath falling against my shoulder as I carried her up the grand staircase to our bedroom.
Setting her down at the edge of the bed, I rang for Mrs Holloway, one of my oldest staff.
“Get her cleaned up and out of these clothes,” I commanded, keeping my eyes fixed on the window as the elderly woman entered.
Mrs. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Holloway nodded and got right into it as I gave her the room to do what was instructed of her.
Hours later, the room was dark again, save for the pale moonlight filtering through the glass.
I laid on my side of the mattress, completely unable to sleep, my mind tracking operational variables for the upcoming week
Then, I heard a muffled groan cut through the quiet.
I sat up, my eyes searching the darkness.
Another nightmare?
I reached out and clicked the bedside lamp on, the warm yellow light revealing Kaira curled into a tight knot, her hands clutching her stomach as her face drained into a sickly shade of pale.
She woke up, tumbling out of the blanket, her feet tangling in the sheets as she stumbled blindly toward the bathroom.
I got out, following her just in time.
She barely managed to reach the sink before her shoulders hitched, throwing up the night’s alcohol.
I gave her a day at freedom and she thought it wise to go clubbing and drink to goddamn stupor.
I stepped up behind her, gathering her hair and keeping it away from her face.
My other hand moved in circles at the center of her spine hoping whatever I was doing would work.
She was trembling under my palm, too miserable and half-drunk to notice the gesture or fight me off.
Eventually, her breathing slowed to a wheeze, her forehead resting against the basin mirror.
I turned the tap on, letting the cool water rinse the basin clean, before handing her a cup of water to rinse her mouth.
When she was done, I guided her back to the bedroom.
The moment her head hit the pillow, she collapsed asleep within seconds.
I stood over her for a long moment, watching the quiet rise and fall of her shoulders before turning back to my side of the room.
After a while I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling then my eyes drifted toward her.
She was asleep, peacefully.
I stared longer than necessary, I shouldn’t.
Maybe I was just making sure by room remained unsullied.
Whatever it was, I forced my eyes to turn to another direction but my mind kept replaying the scene of her showing that idiot outside the club her wedding ring.
My jaw tightened.
I closed my mind, trying to force myself to sleep but they opened again minutes later.
“God help me.” I muttered as I dragged a pillow over my face.
INTERLUDE
Far away into the city, past the borders of Blackstone City where the concrete dissolved into dead fields.
A room was dark enough to cover faces.
A single lamp burned above the desk with a woman sitting in silence, turning a blade between her fingers, the edge was sharp enough to shave skin.
The heavy iron door ground open, a thin sliver of light cutting across the floor but failing to reach her face.
There were no windows to catch the moonlight, no warmth to break the chill of the concrete floor.
The space simply waited, heavy with the scent of old oil and cold iron.
A man stepped into the room, his boots stopping several feet away from her chair.
He kept his distance, his shoulders hunched in a posture that showed he was terrified of her presence.
“The boss wishes to see you,” he said, his voice dropping into the quiet space.
The silence stretched for five long seconds.
Then, the thumb stopped its movement against the steel.
She slid the blade into the leather sheath at her thigh, and got moving, walking past the trembling guard.
She stepped out of the cell and moved down the concrete corridor.
Two armed men stood at the end of the hall, flanked against a set of reinforced double doors.
They unlocked the deadbolts, eager to clear her path.
The room beyond was an entirely different world, the sound of her boots swallowed by the Persian rug she stepped on.
At the center was positioned a clean polished desk.
Behind the desk stood Ronan Virel.
Ronan was a strategic predator who never moved unless the board was perfectly aligned.
He didn’t turn around immediately when the doors clicked shut.
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring out of the glass window into the dark.
“You took your time,” Ronan said, his voice completely devoid of the nervous edge that plagues lesser men.
He turned around, his sharp eyes mapping her.
“But then, genius can rarely be rushed.” His lips curved to a smile.
The woman remained perfectly still in the center of the room, but past the light.
Her face still consumed in the darkness.
She offered no greeting nor gesture of submission.
The absolute lack of fear in her posture would have infuriated anyone else, but Ronan merely smiled, coldly.
Ronan walked around the perimeter of his desk, his steps slow as he circled her like a wolf inspecting a prize hound.
“I have a task for you.”
She remained utterly silent.
“I have a case from years ago.
It has been left unattended, unfinished.” His hand gathered in the air.
“Such cases can cause trouble for me, and you know me, I do not like troubles.”
He snapped his fingers.
The guard who had escorted her walked forward, placing a photograph face down on the desk before quickly retreating back into the shadows behind her.
Ronan placed his palm flat over the back of the photograph, sliding it slowly across the table until it stopped directly in front of her.
She reached out, flipping the photograph over as it exposed the image of Kaira standing right next to Halston in the church.
It was a picture of their wedding, though the photo was close enough to see the intense, fierce spark in her eyes.
“Find her,” Ronan ordered, his voice shifting into something lethal.
“Be careful with the man in the picture.
Only a fool will overlook him.”
She looked down at the photograph, staring at the face of the woman in the picture like she was a butcher.
She slid the photograph into her vest and nodded.
“Track her movements outside the perimeter.
Watch the gaps in their security, and when the moment presents itself, eliminate her.” He paused briefly.
“I trust you can handle it neatly.” He emphasized the last word as she passed no comment but turned, dissolving back into the shadows of the corridor.
The iron doors shut behind her.