KAIRA.
I had gone to bed after we returned, because I needed my proper sleep to function.
I woke up at noon and did the usual, about to head down for lunch.
A part of me—some stupid, reckless part—expected something to be different this morning.
Maybe something softer, with less war between us, but I was an idiot.
Halston was already seated at the table.
He didn’t look up from his newspaper as I walked into the dining room.
He didn’t acknowledge my existence as he sipped his coffee.
Later that evening, the mansion was quiet.
Halston sat in the living room reading that stupid newspaper again.
I sat across from him on the long couch, pretending to watch television while actually wondering if newspapers could be used as weapons, maybe if rolled to be hard enough to hit.
The evening news played softly.
A female reporter stood in front of a burning mansion, emergency lights flashing behind her.
“Earlier tonight, an explosion destroyed the private residence of businessman Victor Hale.
Authorities suspect targeted sabotage.
Fortunately, no casualties were reported, as the family was away at the time—”
I sat up straighter.
The screen showed shattered windows, smoke, fire.
“Who does that?” I muttered.
“Who bombs someone’s home like that?” I glanced at Halston, hoping it could strike up a conversation, but he remained chillingly still, turning a page, and kept reading like the paper entailed news of serious crisis he alone could tackle.
Then he looked at his watch, “you have five minutes.” He said.
I frowned.
“For what?”
He folded the newspaper neatly.
“There’s a dress upstairs.
Wear it.
We’re leaving.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes till it could nearly touch the back of my head.
“No.
I’m not going anywhere with you,”
His gaze lifted.
The weight of it was intimidating but I was not a puppet to be commanded.
“We are not negotiating, Kaira.”
I held his stare for exactly three seconds then stood up.
The dress was silk midnight blue gown, beautiful and rich.
I stared at myself in the mirror, I looked beautiful but beautifully furious.
By the time I came downstairs, Halston was waiting near the entrance.
His eyes moved over me.
There was a tiny flicker but I caught before it vanished.
“Let’s go.” He said and began moving.
A proper gentleman would wait for a lady to walk first but I guess I was no proper lady too, and I liked it.
The gala was exactly the kind of place rich people went to pretend they weren’t monsters.
Crystal chandeliers adding their own colors, expensive perfume dancing in the air, fake smiles carried around like masks.
Men in suits discussing power like it was sport.
Women in silk pretending not to know exactly how dangerous their husbands were.
And where was me, walking beside a devil with a handsomely deceiving face.
I hated him and all of it.
People greeted him with the kind of respect that only fear could produce.
Little did I know my role for tonight was to serve as a decorated servant.
“Pour the wine, Kaira,” he commanded, his voice loud enough for his associates to hear.
I stood there, fuming, as I filled the glasses of men who looked at me like I was toy.
He was bossing me around, asserting his dominance in front of his peers, erasing every stupid conversation we’d had on that roadside bench.
Exhausted and shaking with rage, I retreated to a dark corner.
I just needed to breathe.
“You must be the famous girl with the condescending look everyone has be talking about.” New chapters come out on g.com first.
I looked up to see one of Halston’s associates—a man with greasy hair and eyes that roved over me.
He smiled the way men do when they think money makes them charming.
I looked at him, condescendingly, ofcourse.
Frustration furrowed at my brows as I shot him a glare that probably could be capable of murder.
“There she is.” He said smiling.
“You know,” his smile thinned as he stepped closer, “girls like you who usually act tough usually come cheap…”
Before he could finish his statement, a slap echoed through the ballroom.
In an instant, three guards surrounded me, their weapons drawn toward me.
I froze.
I didn’t understand this world.
I didn’t know these people but I definitely wouldn’t take disrespect from anyone.
He appeared, stepping in between us.
His hand grabbed my arm roughly, his fingers digging into my skin, as shoved me toward the man.
“Apologize,” Halston commanded.
“Excuse me?” I took a step back so I could look at him properly.
His voice dropped.
“Did I stutter?”
“You won’t even ask what happened.”
“I don’t need to.
Whatever transpired, I know you are always trouble.
Apologize.
Now.” His sharp gaze bore into me.
The final thread snapped, my patience was exhausted.
I reached out, snatched a wine bottle from a passing waiter’s tray, and smashed it against the edge of a table.
The sound of shattering glass stopped the room.
Before anyone could react, I had the jagged, dripping edge pressed firmly against Halston’s throat.
“I would rather die right here,” I hissed, my voice trembling with heat, “than be your dog for one more second.” My hair swung to my face as I emphasize the words loudly.
The room went dead silent.
Halston’s face was a display of several emotions, from pain, to anger to sheer humiliation.
He looked at me then smiled, but his eyes was in contrast to the smile on his face.
He took the bottle from my hand slowly.
“Tired, I see.” He moved behind me.
“Let’s go” he whispered as he took my hand and began to walk.
His bodyguards and Oliver followed behind.
When we got outside, he threw me into the passenger seat like a paper tossed in the bin, collected the key from Oliver and instructed him to ride along with the other guards behind us as he walked over to the driver’s side.
Stubbornly, I opened the door to get out, I would rather walk than be tossed around like some rag, but he grabbed my shoulder, pulled me back to seat in place and slammed the door shut.
He began to drive like a madman, his jaw working in silence.
My fingers drummed on my laps, I faced the window, ready for whatever he had planned.
“You want to see my world?” he finally spat as we tore through the gates of a massive, industrial facility.
“You want to see the people you just made an enemy of?
Fine.
Look.”
He parked right in front of the building, the tires screaming like they themselves were angry.
He dragged me down, pulling me behind him roughly.
“He insulted me and I should overlook it?” I yelled too as I yanked my arm away from his grip.
We were still screaming at each other in the corridor of the facility when the first explosion rocked the building.
The walls groaned.
Glasses shattered.
Chaos erupted.
Halston guards started running around, cracking their runs and getting ready for whatever was coming.
“Retaliation,” Halston grunted.
He grabbed me roughly, pulling me toward a secured room.
It was an armory filled with weapons, some hanging on the wall, others parked in black crates.
He grabbed a rifle, checking the chamber with a flick of his wrist.
He let out a light laugh so dark even the walls could shiver.
“Pity he wasn’t home,” he murmured, his eyes flashing as he loaded bullets into the rifle.
The dots connected in my brain like a lightning strike.
The news.
The bombing.
He did it.
Every bit of trust I’d started to feel on that bench evaporated.
If he could bomb a family’s home, he could have killed my parents.
He was definitely a liar.
I picked up a shortgun, loading bullet too, he brought me here, so practically I was in danger too, argument could come later.
Halston kicked a door wide, exiting the armory with me behind.
His rifle barked twice at a gunman coming at him.
As we moved, another man came out from a dark spot, he slammed the shoulder of the man to the wall, pinning him against the concrete, which left his back wide open to a blade-wielding attacker.
I vaulted behind him, my shortgun snapping toward the shadow of another attacker lunching closer.
We kept on moving with me in front now, like I knew where I was supposed to head to.
A guard lunged for my throat out of nowhere, but Halston’s rifle smashed into the man’s jaw before his fingers could touch me.
“Stay behind me.” He sneered while keeping a watchful eye.
“I can survive well on my own.” I disagreed and kept moving.
Just as I turned, an attacker swung at axe at my face, Halston grabbed me by my hair from behind and yanked me behind him then pivoted to sweep the legs of the attacker.
I killed him myself as I shot a glare at Halston to show him I was well capable to defending myself.
I finally allowed him to lead the way.
Climbing down the flight of stairs, three armed guard ran up, Halston shot one in the brain, kicking the other at his kneecap before shooting at him.
My shotgun fired past his shoulder to take down the third attacker.
We entered the basement, but then, a flashbang bounced into the room.
Everywhere became smoky and noisy.
I was disoriented, my ears ringing as the ceiling groaned above us.
A massive explosion from the floor above sent a shockwave through the room.
I felt Halston shove me with everything he had, throwing me toward the far wall just as the ceiling gave way.
A heavy metal crashed down, pinning Halston to the floor.
He let out a choked cry, his face pale as blood began to soak through his shirt.
His gun was ten feet away, out of reach.
Two attackers were already stepping through the dust of the doorway, their gun leveled at his head.
I looked at the secret security back door.
It was open.
I could run.
I could leave him to the death he had earned a thousand times over.
I turned and walked out the back door.
The attackers moved toward Halston, laughing, but his eyes bore into them angrily, like anger alone could do anything for him.
Bang.
Bang.
Shots rang out.
I reappeared killing them.
The two men dropped dead before they even knew where the direction of bullet were from.
I walked over to Halston, who was staring at me in pure shock.
I braced myself, using a bar from the wall to shift the heavy metal just enough for him to crawl out.
He was losing a lot of blood.
I hauled his arm over my shoulder, dragging his dead weight toward the exit.
I didn’t look at him nor offer comfort, either did I care if the way I pulled him hurt his leg.
“Why?” he rasped, his voice weak.
“You were out.
Why did you come back?”
I looked down at him, my eyes colder than they had ever been.
“If anyone is going to kill you,” I whispered, “it’s going to be me.”