"A girl’s got her secrets, hubby."
Sunny smirked, refusing to break eye contact. She did not back down from the suffocating pressure radiating from him. He hovered over the marble counter, his face bare inches from hers.
The ambient heat rolling off his skin was intoxicating, a sharp contrast to the cold frost forming on the edges of the metal surgical trays behind him.
She leaned forward just a fraction of an inch, her gaze dropping to his sharp jawline and then down to his lips.
"If you get close to me like this, I might actually really kiss you."
Donovan snapped back like he touched a live wire. He recoiled, standing up straight and taking a fast, defensive step away from the kitchen island. The fierce glare in his gray eyes faltered for just a microsecond, replaced by genuine shock.
No one spoke to Donovan Fallon like that. No one dared to invade his personal space or mock his temper. He ran boardrooms with an iron fist.
Sunny let out a bright, chaotic chuckle.
Got him. The big bad CEO is blushing. Or maybe that is just the rage. Either way, it is a fantastic look on him.
"You look hungry," she observed, picking up her wooden chopsticks. She twirled a long noodle around the wood, keeping her tone light and playful. "Do you want some noodles? I have spicy beef or garlic pork. They are fresh from that little shop on 5th Avenue."
Donovan did not answer. He just glared at her, his jaw set in a rigid line. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to maintain his intimidating posture.
But his body betrayed him.
A loud, rumbling growl echoed from his stomach. The sound cut right through the tense silence of the kitchen, loud enough to echo off the vaulted ceiling.
Sunny grinned around her mouthful of food.
"I will leave a fresh bowl right here on the counter for you," she offered, tapping the marble with her fingernail. "Eat up. Saving the world burns a lot of calories."
He ignored the food. His gray eyes were dark and stormy, fixed entirely on her.
"My men," Donovan demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low octave. "Where exactly did you take them?"
"I told you already," Sunny said, waving a hand casually through the air. She just assured him that Elias is safe in the hideout because she led the bus there herself. "I literally drove the route for them. They are parked in the underground garage of the old manufacturing plant on the edge of the financial district. The steel doors are locked tight. I handed them the emergency first aid kits. I gave them enough rations to last a month. I did your job for you."
Donovan froze. The muscles in his neck strained tight like thick cords.
That hideout did not exist on any public record. He bought that facility through three anonymous shell companies based overseas. He spent millions outfitting it with reinforced steel, off-grid power, and military-grade rations.
Only Elias knew the access codes. Not even his own board of directors knew that place existed. It was his ultimate failsafe.
"How do you know about that place?" Donovan asked. The question was laced with raw fury. The air around him dropped in temperature again. A thin layer of white frost threatened to creep up the legs of the barstools. The ambient moisture in the room crystallized.
Sunny rested her chin in her palm. She gave him a sweet, innocent smile.
"Honey, I know everything about you."
It was the truth. She knew his favorite coffee order. She knew the exact date his father passed away. She knew the passcode to his private vault on the third floor of his skyscraper.
She knew he was destined to become the strongest Ice Elementalist in Koria. She knew his tragic ending, and she was currently ripping the plot apart with her bare hands to prevent it. She knew the exact birthmark on his hip, though she decided to keep that specific fact to herself for now.
Donovan stared at her. Rage and intense curiosity waged a violent war in his eyes. He wanted to strangle her. He wanted to interrogate her until she cracked.
Who sent her?
How did she know his deepest secrets?
Sunny slid off the barstool. She stretched her arms over her head, letting out a soft yawn that showed just how unbothered she was by his icy glare.
"Your phone and important stuff are safe on the living room glass table," Sunny pointed toward the sitting area. "Take them. You can check in on Elias. I am going for a shower."
She turned her back on the furious 5-star hunter and walked toward the floating wooden stairs. She did not look back.
Donovan stood alone in the kitchen.
The silence of the bunker was deafening. He stared at the steaming bowl of spicy beef noodles resting on the cold marble counter. He wanted to ignore it. He needed to reach his phone.
He needed to verify that Elias was breathing. He needed to establish a secure comm link with his surviving security teams and figure out how many of his people survived the initial wave.
He took one step toward the living room table.
Then, the 5-star Awakening hit his system.
It felt like a bomb went off inside his veins. His knees buckled instantly. He slammed his bare hands onto the marble counter to keep himself from hitting the polished concrete floor.
His stomach cramped so hard it knocked the breath straight out of his lungs. A supernatural, hollow ache tore through his abdomen.
His body just levelled up to a god-like status. His muscles repaired themselves from lethal monster wounds in a matter of minutes.
His cellular structure mutated to harness the absolute power of ice. That kind of brutal biological rewrite required fuel. An astronomical amount of fuel.
His grey eyes snapped back to the bowl of noodles.
Pride vanished. Survival instincts took over. A 5-star Awakening did not care about billionaire egos. It only cared about calories.
Donovan practically lunged at the counter. He grabbed the chopsticks and started eating. The spicy broth burned his throat, but he did not care. He shoved the beef and noodles into his mouth, chasing the energy his mutating cells screamed for.
He finished the entire bowl in less than a minute, scraping the bottom, before dropping the empty ceramic onto the counter with a loud clatter.
It was not enough. The void in his gut screamed louder.
He took a shaky breath. The food hit his stomach, but the violent energy drain did not stop. It accelerated. It felt like his bones were melting.
A single drop of sweat rolled down his temple. Then another. His skin grew slick with perspiration.
Donovan gripped the edge of the island, his knuckles turning stark white. The kitchen began to spin. The sleek white cabinets blurred into smeared lines of color. A brutal, agonizing heat spiked inside his chest, radiating outward and burning up his veins.
He was an Ice Elementalist, yet he felt like he was burning alive from the inside out. His brain felt like it was cooking inside his skull.
"Elias..." Donovan choked out. His vision darkened around the edges, tunneling rapidly until all he could see was the shiny marble counter.
He tried to push himself off the island to reach the living room table. He needed to make that call. His men were out there. He needed to know they survived the drive. His legs refused to obey the command. The world tilted violently sideways.
Donovan collapsed.
His broad shoulders hit the polished concrete floor with a dull, sickening thud. The lights above him faded to absolute black.
Upstairs, the master bathroom was a sanctuary of thick steam and crushed vanilla.
Sunny sank deeper into the massive standalone tub, letting out a long, happy sigh. The hot water worked magic on her sore muscles. The adrenaline of the monster fight washed down the drain, replaced by the sheer luxury of surviving the apocalypse in a billionaire’s fortified bunker.
Outside these thick concrete walls, the sky was a bleeding purple wound. Monsters tore through the streets, destroying skyscrapers and turning the city of Koria into a hunting ground.
But inside? Inside, she had heated floors and expensive bath bombs.
She closed her eyes, resting her head against the smooth porcelain.
My hubby is downstairs right now. In my house. Eating my food. The plot is officially derailed, and I am the new author of this story.
She giggled softly, blowing a handful of soap bubbles into the air. She pictured Donovan’s flustered face when she threatened to kiss him. He looked so cute when he was trying to be intimidating.
A soft, mechanical hum interrupted the quiet splashing.
Sunny peeked one eye open.
The sleek white system drone floated right through the closed bathroom door, unaffected by the thick steam rising from the tub. Its blue screen blinked rapidly, casting an eerie glow against the tiled walls.
It hovered over the edge of the bathtub, looking down at her with a stark, serious digital face.
"You might want to check on your precious," the system stated. The robotic voice echoed off the bathroom tiles, devoid of its usual teasing tone. "He is experiencing an awakening fever."