Sweet Hatred Chapter 217: INTENTIONS

The final walkthrough felt like treading through an alternate dinsion, every step perfectly tid, every nod purposeful. The committee moved like a well-oiled, borderline-military machine through the massive villa grounds.

Masks were checked. Biotric scanners calibrated. Our head of security barked out final commands to his two off-grid teams. The invisible one already stationed in the shadows of the island. The visible one stationed like beautiful statues at key entrances.

Everything—everything—was silent, smooth, intimidatingly flawless.

Ashlyn ran the final brief like she owned the damn universe. Her voice echoed across the mirrored walls of the security chamber as she listed off final protocols: scent cues, AI surveillance calibrations, discreet guest assignnts. At one point, the Guest Liaison brought up the mask symbolism again, and I zoned out just a little. Not from boredom. Just from... exhaustion.

I found myself wondering where Kael was. If he was already here.

This island was large enough to house over two hundred guests in absolute privacy, so it wouldn’t surprise if he was tucked away in so villa, hidden from my view on purpose. A part of hoped that was the case. Another part of hated myself for hoping.

After hours of combing through rituals, perforr assignnts, staff tracking simulations, and backups for our backups... we finally called it a night.

Ash and I returned to our suite with the glow of gold lighting dripping from the walls like honey. She had dinner served in one of the glass-walled lounge areas, with citrus-roasted seabass and pink wine chilled to perfection. I barely tasted any of it.

After a stretch of silence between us, she placed her wine glass down with a smile that always ant trouble.

"I have a little gift for you," she said.

I paused mid-chew. "Do I want to know?"

Ash grinned. "Follow ."

I eyed her skeptically, pushing away from the table anyway. "If this ends with missing a kidney, I want it on record that I suspected you first."

She laughed under her breath, flipping her long hair over one shoulder as she led down a corridor lit by hanging lights shaped like lanterns. It wrapped around the outer courtyard and into what looked like a private designer studio with double doors carved from ivory wood.

Inside, two ballgowns, no, art pieces, stood tall on mannequins, like gods about to descend.

One was deep erald velvet with a dipped back and cascading train. The other? Crimson. Satin. Structured shoulders, a sharp neckline like sothing worn by a queen walking into war.

Both so beautiful it actually made my chest ache.

"Oh my god..." I whispered.

"Aren’t they divine?" Ash said, smug.

A man with tousled dark curls, round glasses, and the most extravagant silk scarf I’d ever seen rushed toward us. "Bonjour, s étoiles!"

He looked over like I was a rare wine. "This is the one, non?" he asked Ashlyn in a thick French accent.

"She is," Ash confird with that sa unreadable smirk.

He clapped excitedly and waved his hands. "Co! Co, darling. We must fit you imdiately. You are criminal for keeping this body hidden beneath corporate suits."

I blinked, still processing. "I—uh—"

"Allez!" he chirped, dragging gently but efficiently to a fitting platform, murmuring in French as he adjusted pins, circled , and clicked his tongue in approval.

Ash stayed behind him, arms folded, watching with a faintly amused glint in her eyes.

"Okay," I muttered while he wrapped a tape around my waist, "what’s your plan?"

Ash tilted her head. "Plan?"

I raised a brow. "You can’t seriously expect to believe this is kindness. Not from you. You don’t just hand out dresses unless they’re daggers covered in a nice fabric."

She chuckled. "You think I’m keeping you close to destroy you?"

I held her gaze. "Aren’t you?"

She walked closer, slow steps echoing. And then she was in front of . Very close. Leaning in with a dangerous tilt to her mouth.

"Maybe," she said softly. "Or maybe I just like you, Aria."

I didn’t flinch. "You could’ve said that without dressing up like a goddess."

"I wanted you to look how you deserve to look."

"Why?"

"Why can’t you just accept that soone might want to be good to you?"

I scoffed. "Not soone like you."

Her smile curved lazily. "Was it the sa with Kael?"

And there it was. The knife.

I stilled. Every part of locking up at the ntion of his na in her voice.

"It’s different," I said quietly.

"Is it?" she mused, not pressing. Just letting it hang between us.

Before I could say another word, the door creaked open.

One of the island staff stepped inside, arms carefully cradling a midnight-black suit with silver stitching along the lapels and silk-lined inner pockets. The kind of tailoring that could bankrupt a small country.

"Where do you want it placed, Miss Ashlyn?"

She motioned to the corner. "There. By the valet stand."

I stared. "Is that for Kael?"

Ash turned to slowly, lips twitching. "Curious?"

I rolled my eyes. "Just asking."

She turned away, stroking the shoulder of the erald gown. "It’s for Sylas."

That na again.

"Your brother?" I asked.

She nodded. "He’s finally decided to grace us with his presence. Will be arriving soti tomorrow. Probably early. Probably late."

"And I’ll finally get to et the other twin who seems to be the only one who actually rattles you."

Ash laughed. "That’s because he’s the only person on earth more unpredictable than I am."

That didn’t make feel better. Because their relationship reminded of Olivia.

But I didn’t say it.

Instead, I looked at the gowns again, and for one fleeting second, I let myself imagine Kael seeing in one of them.

And then I shoved the thought away.

Again.

....

I didn’t let it go.

Even after the tailor excused himself with a dramatic flourish and Ash wandered to her wine glass, I stayed planted in place, eyes fixed on her like I was trying to solve a riddle with no pieces.

My question was still unanswered.

"What are your intentions, Ash?" I asked again, softly this ti—less like an accusation, more like a woman just trying to understand what battlefield she was standing on.

Ash sipped her wine, letting it coat her lips with a soft red sheen before she finally glanced at , her expression unreadable. "Ask again," she said, "two hours into the gala tomorrow... when I’m drunk enough to give you the real answer."

I blinked. What?

She smiled, slow and almost coy, like she knew exactly what kind of chaos she was dangling over my head. "Might even spill more than I should."

"Will you rember you said this?"

She tilted her head. "Depends how good the champagne is."

I shook my head, half-exasperated, half-amused. "You better not go back on your word."

"No promises," she humd as she turned to walk off, hips swaying lazily in that signature Ashlyn way, "but if you catch at the right ti, I might just tell you everything."

And with that, she disappeared down the corridor, leaving standing beside two masterpieces of fabric and thread, feeling like sothing big was already shifting under my feet.

....

There was sothing about waking up on the morning of a storm. You always knew. You could feel it.

Even on an island this far from the rest of the world, shielded by money, distance, and secrecy, the air still buzzed like the first crackle before a lightning strike.

The sun rose gentle but heavy, casting golden beams through the sheer curtains of my suite. Everything about this room scread wealth, like ti itself cost money here.

I moved slow. Too slow.

I hadn’t slept much. I kept thinking about Kael. About that night in the car. About his hands gripping the wheel like he might snap it in two when I asked for our contract to end.

And about how he told it wouldn’t.

God. Why did I feel relief at that?

Why did I feel so stupid for feeling it?

I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore.

Freedom or him?

Control or... whatever we were.

The silence in the suite wrapped around as I wandered toward the mirror, staring at the untouched gown that now hung in a glass case, waiting. Like a crown you only wore before execution.

My phone buzzed.

Ash.

"Final checks in 30. Mask assignnt is complete. Wear sothing loose. They’ll co to dress you."

I replied with a simple: Okay.

But nothing felt okay.

I sat back on the edge of the bed, legs bouncing restlessly, fingers clenched on my lap. This wasn’t just any night. This was the kind of night where destinies rewrote themselves, or ended entirely.

And Kael...

Was sowhere out there.

Maybe already on the island. Maybe watching. Maybe planning sothing I couldn’t guess.

But I was here too.

And no matter what happened tonight, I would walk into that gala like I was born to, even if my heart was splitting itself in half beneath the surface.