Sweet Hatred Chapter 31: Games

Kael’s POV

I found her exactly where I expected her to be—standing stiffly in the dimly lit corridor, exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin. Yet, even drained, she burned.

Dark circles shadowed her eyes, her lips were pressed into a firm line, and her shoulders held the weight of sothing heavier than just lack of sleep. Most people would crumble under it.

But not Aria.

I took my ti approaching, watching the subtle tension in her body. She was aware of before she even turned her head. I could tell by the way her fingers twitched at her sides. Always so reactive.

"Oh, lucky ," Aria deadpanned, her voice laced with biting sarcasm.

I smirked. "You are, actually."

She exhaled sharply, tilting her head as she regarded with thinly veiled disdain. "Is that so?"

"Mmm." I let my gaze drag over her, slow and deliberate, taking in the exhaustion clinging to her. Yet, even at her lowest, she was a storm barely contained.

"You should be grateful," I continued, my tone almost thoughtful. "Most people don’t get the privilege of working directly under . Twice."

She let out a humorless laugh. "Oh yes, a privilege. How ever will I repay you?"

I leaned in slightly, watching the way her breath hitched before she masked it with a scoff. "We already have an agreent... but if you’re itching for more... I can think of a few other ways."

Her jaw clenched, a muscle ticking at the side. Perfect.

She was trying so hard not to react, but I saw it—the fire, the resistance, the way she hated that I could pull at her like this. It only made want to push further.

"Don’t you have other places to be condescending?" she finally spoke. "I’m pretty sure you have other people’s lives to be ruining at this mont."

I chuckled, amused by her words. "Why should I bother with other people, when I have you right here?"

Her brows furrowed instantly, lips parting to spit angrily at and her fingers twitched like she wanted to strangle . Beautiful.

I was enjoying myself too much to stop, but before I could push her further, the sharp sound of footsteps cut through the air, followed by a firm, clipped voice.

"Sir."

I didn’t bother turning right away. I already knew who it was.

"What?" I asked lazily, dragging my gaze from Aria’s stormy expression to where Niko stood, his usual impassive face set in stone.

"Mr. Ewan called," he said. "He’s asking for you."

My smirk faded. The amusent drained out of in an instant, replaced by sothing colder, sharper.

Of course.

Aria’s expression flickered, picking up on the shift, but she said nothing. She only crossed her arms, watching like she was cataloging every reaction.

I turned back to her, letting my gaze sweep over her one last ti, slower this ti, like I was committing her exhaustion, her resistance, her barely restrained temper—to mory.

"Rest up, sweetheart," I said smoothly. "You’re back at HQ tomorrow."

Her glare was venomous, but I simply smirked, reaching past her to brush my fingers against the sleeve of her shirt as I stepped away.

And just because I could—just because I knew it would get under her skin—I threw in a wink before turning my back on her.

I could feel the heat of her silent fury on my spine as I walked away.

Good.

I preferred it that way.

The mont I stepped out of Aria’s sight, my amusent thinned into nothing.

I rolled my shoulders back, adjusting the cuffs of my jacket as I walked, pushing down the simring irritation curling at the edges of my patience.

"What does he want?" I asked, my voice low.

Niko was already a step behind , ever the disciplined shadow at my side. "He wants you to return his call sir." He said, handing my phone to .

I let out a slow exhale through my nose, a humorless smirk tugging at my lips. "Of course he does."

I reached for the device in Niko’s hands, dialing my father’s number as I stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage. The doors slid shut with a quiet chi, enclosing us in a thick silence.

Niko said nothing, but I could feel his gaze—waiting, always watching.

I exhaled sharply and lifted the phone to my ear.

It barely rang once before my father answered.

"Kael," his voice ca through, smooth and practiced, but I caught the thread of irritation underneath. "I was beginning to think you’d ignore ."

I smirked, leaning against the elevator wall. "I considered it."

A sharp exhale. "I assu Niko inford you of the event."

"No," I said flatly. "Why are you bothering ?"

"I’ll make this simple son, Martha’s birthday party is coming up in a few days at Las vegas," he continued, tone cooling into authority. "and you will be there. No excuses."

I flicked my gaze to the numbers on the elevator panel. "And why exactly is my presence necessary? You have Andrew for that. Your perfect, presentable son. He enjoys being paraded, doesn’t he?."

A pause. Subtle, but noticeable. My smirk widened.

"I want you there," my father finally said, voice asured. "This isn’t up for discussion."

That was what got my attention.

I straightened, my fingers tightening slightly around the phone. There was sothing there. Sothing he wasn’t saying.

"What’s the real reason?" I asked, my voice dropping a degree.

"Kael."

The elevator doors slid open with a chi, revealing the dim lighting of the underground parking lot. I stepped out slowly, Niko trailing just behind.

"I’m not interested in playing family with a bunch of pretentious, botoxed socialites," I said, my voice edged with quiet impatience. "Andrew can handle that."

"You will be there," my father repeated, sharper this ti.

I stopped by my car, my grip tightening briefly before I forced myself to exhale.

And then I smiled. Cold and empty.

"We’ll see."

I ended the call before he could say another word.

The mont the line went dead, I let the silence settle, the tension simring beneath my skin.

My father never demanded my presence. Not unless there was sothing bigger at play.

I hated gas I wasn’t the one controlling.