Sweet Hatred Chapter 218: Like an addict, waiting for a hit

KAEL

The rotors chopped through the air like a heartbeat I could no longer feel.

Below us, the sea spread endless and silver, too perfect. Too untouched. Just like everything in their sick little fantasy.

We hovered above the island like gods for a mont too long, and then the pilot received clearance. I didn’t speak. I hadn’t spoken in the last hour.

Niko sat across from in the chopper, sleep-deprived and clutching the tablet like it was a weapon. His voice cut through the comms calmly, as if we weren’t about to land in the middle of a masquerade filled with devils.

"The ZephyrCore contracts are finalized. Stanley’s people have confird attendance. Security’s doubled, but the leak about the neural synchronization range has reached two sources we can’t trace."

I didn’t blink. "Find them. Erase them."

"Already on it sir," Niko answered, flipping to the next screen. "Here’s the roster of high-interest guests. Board mbers. Rothschild’s heir. Minister of Technology from France. Military General Daesung from South Korea. The list is stacked."

I nodded once.

"And Aria?" I asked, eyes fixed on the window.

Niko hesitated for a second too long.

"She’s still in the north wing of the guest suite. Finalizing things with the planning committee. She’s been quiet. Left her room once for breakfast. Stayed behind with Ashlyn after the dress fitting."

My jaw clenched.

Ashlyn.

He continued. "No visual from her since 10:43 last night. We’re monitoring the hallway. She’s fine."

Fine?

She wasn’t fine. I hadn’t seen her the way I needed in two weeks. Not since she asked for the contract to end. Not since she looked at like I was the weight pulling her under.

And now we were breathing the sa air again, and I hadn’t even laid eyes on her yet.

The helicopter landed smoothly on a marble helipad built like a throne room’s rooftop. Caras were disabled. No staff greeted us, just a quiet escort team of four, suited, ard, and silent. Just how I liked it.

One of the n, head of logistics, approached with a hesitant smile.

"Mr. Roman. Your private villa is ready. We’ve prepared—"

"No."

He blinked. "Sir?"

"I want a room in the primary suite complex. The north wing."

He froze, confusion flickering through his features. "Ah... the suite floor is fully booked, I’m afraid. Each committee mber, their staff—"

My eyes cut to his. One look. That’s all it took.

"I said—north wing," I repeated, voice calm as glass before it shatters. "Preferably two doors down from Aria Thorne. Or do I need to make a few people disappear to make space?"

He swallowed hard. "I—I’ll clear a room imdiately, Mr. Roman."

"Good," I said, already walking.

My steps were quiet but heavy. My mind louder than ever.

Aria was here. Breathing this island air. Smiling, maybe, to soone else. About to attend a gala designed by vultures. And I wasn’t beside her.

That couldn’t happen.

I needed to see her.

Even if she hated .

Even if she wouldn’t look in the eye.

Even if touching her again ant burning for it.

As we approached the suite floor, one of the staff mbers bowed low and opened the doors. I didn’t look at them. My entire focus tunneled into the quiet hallways beyond, trying to catch even a whisper of her perfu. Of her.

Aria.

I didn’t care if I had to tear this entire island apart to find her.

She was mine.

And I was already unraveling.

I saw her before she saw .

She was standing beside Ashlyn at the east garden terrace, the sky bleeding warm peach across the glass, her dress catching the sunlight like a weapon. A few execs stood with them—Victor Calder from Rothschild’s biotech division, and Evelyn Shaw from Delmar Holdings. People with far too much money and even less conscience.

Ash was talking. Aria was smiling.

Smiling.

Not that forced kind she gives at the office. This one looked soft. It curved her lips. Crinkled her eyes. For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

She didn’t look uncomfortable.

Not around Ashlyn. Not around the woman who was handpicked to be my wife.

Why?

Why wasn’t she tense?

Why did she look like she fit into this world better than I ever could?

I stood there in silence, half in the shadow of a hallway column, watching her like an addict aching for a hit. And when she shifted slightly, her eyes flicked toward my direction, just for a second. Like so part of her knew I was there. Like her body always felt before her mind could na it.

I left.

My chest was already tight. My hands were cold despite the heat. I needed to get my shit together before I faced her. Not like this. Not with eyes dark from insomnia and breath that reeked of tension and bad decisions.

I walked back to my room.

The suite they prepared for was expected. Impressive a little. One bedroom. Lounge space. Wine cellar. Wall-to-wall glass. Marble floors that echoed with every step. A balcony with a view of the ocean that would have been breathtaking, if my mind wasn’t already drowning in her.

"You should get so sleep sir," Niko had told . "There’s still a few hours left before the party starts."

He wasn’t wrong.

I showered, stripped off the exhaustion, letting the hot water burn the weeks off my skin. Threw on a black cotton t-shirt, and grey drawstring trousers, casual enough for sleep. Barefoot. Hair damp.

Niko placed the bottle on the table without a word. Glenrothes. Aged. Heavy. Beside it, two white pills.

I downed both and chased them with three fingers of scotch.

Two hours later, I woke up feeling worse. My mouth was dry. My heart was louder than my pulse.

The suite was too quiet.

I stepped into the living space, where Niko stood near the door, alert.

"How long?" I asked.

"Two hours. You needed more."

"Too bad. What’s left?"

He flipped open his tablet. "Final authorization on the perforr routes and the biotric scan data. Also, the surveillance blind spots have been corrected in the eastern sector."

I nodded. "Good."

And then, the sound.

A muffled noise. Raised voices. Chaos.

I froze.

Niko noticed it too and stepped out instantly to check.

My temples pounded. The pills had done nothing. I leaned against the marble island, waiting, bracing.

Niko returned fast, eyes uneasy. "There’s a situation downstairs. So idiot guest was harassing a staff mber. Aria stepped in."

My spine straightened. Aria?

"How bad?"

He swallowed. "She’s beating the shit out of him. Or trying to. The guy’s bigger, and he’s threatening to get her eliminated."