Sweet Hatred Chapter 226: Try me, Sad girl

I stiffened.

My heart did this annoying little lurch thing, like it recognized the voice before my brain did.

No. Fucking. Way. It couldn’t be.

"You," I blurted, staring at him like he’d slapped with a fish.

He raised a white brow. "Still alive, I see. Not drowning in the ocean or sobbing in a public bar bathroom. What a miracle."

Ash’s face snapped between the two of us. "Wait. Wait, wait. You two know each other?"

"No," I said too quickly. "Nope. Definitely not."

"Yes," he said at the exact sa ti. "Tragically it seems." He tilted his head, eyes gleaming like a maniac. "She was the stray cat I picked the other day that loved to bite."

Ash’s jaw fell open.

I turned to Ash. "We do not know each other. He, he picked up one night when I was having a breakdown. That’s it."

"She tried to drown herself," Sylas added helpfully.

"I did not!"

"She was sobbing about so guy, looked like she was ready to start a war, then insulted seven different ways, and still climbed on my bike."

Ash’s jaw dropped. "You let my brother drive you? On his bike? Are you insane?"

"I didn’t know he was your brother!"

"Would it have stopped you?"

"Yes!"

"Liar," Sylas said, grinning like he’d just won a bet. "You were half-ready to make out with that night."

My eye twitched. The infuriating bastard.

"I was half-ready to push you off a cliff or crash both of us."

"And yet," he said, his tone lowering just enough to send a chill down my back, "you held on very tight."

Ash looked like she was either going to kill us both or explode from the sheer chaos. And I was ready to blow the entire place up.

"I am going to throw up," she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You two together is either the best or the worst thing that’s going to happen to you two."

"We’re not anything," I snapped.

"We could be," Sylas said, just to piss off.

And maybe to test sothing. The way Kael tested. Only this wasn’t fire and brimstone. Sylas wasn’t trying to devour . He was trying to destabilize . On purpose.

I took a breath, straightened my back, and looked him dead in the eye. "You couldn’t handle ."

His smile curled. Slow. Lazy. Dangerous. "Try , sad girl."

My dead pan face quickly squeezed into a frown. "I can see why your sister wanted to beat you up badly."

"Yeah sure but I bet you went back to the beach hoping you’d find again," Sylas muttered under his breath beside , voice smug and hushed like we were sharing secrets instead of trauma.

I turned to glare at him, lips parted with a cutting insult on my tongue but before I could unleash it, the suite doors flew open.

A sharply dressed executive staff mber appeared, hands behind his back, silver mask reflecting the warm chandelier light. "Ladies and gentlen. The gala has begun. The guests are arriving. We’ll be moving shortly."

Just like that, the air shifted. All teasing evaporated.

Ash straightened imdiately, her shoulders rolling back like a general preparing to lead an army. Everyone straighten up. Masks on. It’s showti," Ash said in a commanding tone.

I hesitated. Still reeling. Still trying to believe the arrogant bastard beside was the guy from that night.

Ash’s voice cut in again, sharper this ti. "Aria."

I blinked and nodded quickly, reaching for my golden mask resting on its velvet tray.

As I placed it over my face, Sylas leaned down toward , breath brushing my ear. "We’ll pick this up later, sad girl."

I didn’t even bother replying. I just inhaled sharply and followed Ash as we moved toward the grand staircase.

...

Once again,

It was like walking into a palace at the edge of the world.

The double doors swung open before us like the gates of a golden underworld, revealing the grand ballroom below.

The sound hit first, rich strings and haunting piano chords floating through the air, classical music with a sensual edge, sothing straight out of a masquerade fantasy. The scent of jasmine, citrus, and old-world cigars. The low hum of powerful people speaking behind masks.

The ballroom was carved into the cliffside, a masterwork of architecture with towering glass walls that overlooked a roaring ocean that shimred in moonlight. Massive chandeliers of hand-blown Venetian glass spiraled from the ceilings like frozen fire. Gilded pillars frad every edge, and along the marble floor, gold and black patterns curled like sothing pulled from a dream.

Champagne sparkled in crystal flutes. Silver trays passed between gloved hands. There were no caras here. No outsiders. Only gods and monsters in disguise.

Every guest wore a mask in the color of their standing.

Gold, sapphires, crimson and black, every mask a symbol of status. But only a few wore gold. I felt the weight of mine like it was a crown and a target all at once.

And as I stood at the top of the marble stairs, side by side with Ashlyn, looking like fire incarnate in her obsidian lace and blood-red lips, I felt the heat of a hundred stares shift toward us.

But it wasn’t just us.

Sylas, dressed in his perfectly tailored suit and twin gold mask, stood on Ash’s other side like chaos waiting for permission to burn.

We were masked royalty.

But even in that glittering, dangerous room... I felt him.

The stare.

Like heat crawling down my spine.

I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

But I did.

Because I’m a masochist like that.

My eyes flicked down to the foot of the stairs, and there he was.

Across the room, standing like the beginning of war dressed in a black suit that looked like it was made in pride itself, was Kael Roman. He was mid-conversation with the CEO or President of God-knows-what, probably tech or weapons or sothing terrifying while sipping wine but Kael Roman wasn’t listening. Not really.

He was looking at .

His golden mask sat pushed slightly above his brow, just enough to expose those glacier-cut green eyes that glowed like warning lights. The intensity in them struck like a wire pulled taut. He wasn’t blinking. He was drinking in. Like a man starved.

And it affected .

Because all I could think about was his mouth on mine. His breath against my throat. His voice whispering: I missed you.

I looked away, panicked, flushed.

Ash was the first about to descend the stairs. Regal, unbothered, a storm with lipstick.

I was just about to follow her when a warm hand slid around mine.