The door opened again just as I was about to speak, and before either of us could process it, the air in the room shifted... heavy, electric, threaded with that quiet, unmistakable presence that only one man carried.
Kael.
He stood in the doorway, his dark coat still half-buttoned, the faintest trace of wind and rain clinging to him like a scent of distant storms. His eyes flickered from to Sylas and back again, unreadable, but the sharpness there was unmistakable.
"I hope I’m not interrupting," he said, though the subtle edge in his tone made it clear he already knew he was.
My heart tripped over itself. "Kael—"
Sylas’s chair creaked as he shifted, the ghost of a smirk curling his mouth. "You are," he said flatly. "But I doubt that would matter to you. Since you’re the type who takes what he wants, whether or not soone’s already got it."
Kael’s lips twitched, not quite into a smile, more of a dark amusent glinting in his eyes. "You’d be right about that," he said smoothly, stepping further in. "And it’s a trait that’s served well."
The tension between them tightened until it humd, and I found myself exhaling a laugh I didn’t an to... one of those nervous, ridiculous things that just slipped out. "God, you two," I said, shaking my head. "If you weren’t both so full of pride, you’d actually make good friends."
They both looked at like I’d lost my mind, identical, equally offended expressions that sohow made laugh harder.
Sylas was the first to speak, deadpan. "I’d rather eat wet cent."
Kael didn’t miss a beat. "Good thing your father’s new hotel construction has enough to drown in."
Sylas pushed up from his chair, jaw tightening. "I didn’t co here to engage in petty fights with an emotionally stunted billionaire."
Kael’s smile was razor-edged, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Then by all ans," he said coolly, "you’re welco to leave."
"I already am," Sylas shot back, his voice sharp. He turned toward then, and for just a mont, his expression softened. "Take care of yourself, Aria. And when he inevitably screws up again..." ...his gaze flicked to Kael... "you know I’ll be around."
I arched a brow, forcing a small, amused smile even though my chest felt tight. "You might have to wait forever, then."
Kael’s answering look was smug, just the faintest curl of satisfaction at the corner of his mouth. Sylas noticed it, scoffed under his breath.
"Tch. Never mind. Bye, Aria."
And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him, the air still buzzing with whatever tension he’d left behind.
For a mont, silence.
Then Kael spoke, his voice deceptively calm. "You seem to be having a lot of fun behind my back."
I didn’t rise to it. I just turned back to my desk, rifling through papers I wasn’t really reading. "Did your trip go well?" I asked evenly.
His steps ca closer, that steady, deliberate rhythm that always set sothing inside off balance. "It was fine," he said. "Productive. My father’s been... strange lately."
I glanced up. "Strange how?"
Kael’s gaze lingered on the window for a mont before he replied. "He’s agreeing to everything I propose without a single argunt. No fights, no challenges. I can’t tell if he’s finally getting old enough to lose his edge... or if he’s just realized how useless it is trying to mold Andrew into anything worthwhile."
His tone was calm, but there was a subtle bitterness under it. A weariness that made my heart ache for him.
"Maybe he’s just softening," I offered gently. "People do, sotis."
Kael’s mouth curved, but it wasn’t quite a smile. "Trust ," he murmured, "that’s the one thing he’s incapable of."
Before I could answer, he slipped a small red box from his coat pocket and set it on my desk. The color was striking against the pale wood.. like a drop of blood on snow.
I frowned. "What’s that?"
"Open it," he said simply.
I did... slowly, the lid lifting with a faint click... and inside lay a necklace. Gold, fine as silk, with a single rose pendant inlaid with tiny, dark rubies that caught the light like embers. It looked fragile, impossibly beautiful, and far too expensive to belong to soone like .
"Kael," I started, startled. "This—"
He didn’t wait for to finish. He took the necklace from the box, rounded the desk in a few long strides, and stopped behind . I felt his fingers brush against my neck, cool tal kissing my skin as he fastened it in place. His breath was warm against my ear when he spoke. "I saw it at an auction. I couldn’t resist."
"How much?" I asked, even though I already dreaded the answer.
"You’d rather not know."
Which was his code for ridiculously expensive. I sighed but didn’t argue. The pendant rested against my collarbone, gleaming faintly under the light, and before I could say anything more, he turned gently to face him.
His eyes softened then, the sharp edges lting into sothing quieter, sothing raw. "I missed you," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek... then another, and another, trailing up the curve of my jaw, across my temple, down the bridge of my nose.
"Kael," I breathed, half laughing as he kept going, murmuring between kisses, "I missed you," again and again until the words blurred into warmth.
I caught his face between my hands, my heart stumbling. "You were only gone for forty eight hours," I said softly, but there was no real protest in it.
He smiled against my skin. "Yeah and it’s long enough for you miss ."
And God help . He was right.
His mouth hovered over mine, close enough that I could taste the warmth of his breath, feel the rhythm of his pulse thrumming just beneath the surface of calm he always tried to maintain.
For a long mont, I just looked at him, at the man who could make my entire world still itself with nothing but a touch. And then, without thinking, I reached for him. My fingers slipped behind his neck, tracing the fine, damp strands of hair that still clung there, drawing him closer until there was no space left between us.
He exhaled softly, the sound low and rough, and when our lips t, the kiss wasn’t hungry like before, not desperate or hurried, it was slow, aching, the kind that said everything words couldn’t. The kind that felt like a promise and a plea in the sa breath.
"I missed you too," I whispered against his mouth when we finally pulled apart, and his hand ca up to cradle my cheek like he was afraid I might vanish if he didn’t hold on.
For a while, we just stayed like that, the quiet hum of the office beyond the door fading away until there was only the sound of our breathing, the faint clink of the pendant against my skin when he brushed his thumb along it.
But as his thumb lingered at the base of my throat, I felt it, that subtle shift, that tightening of his hold that wasn’t exactly rough but wasn’t entirely gentle either. Possessive, protective... both at once, the lines blurring as they always did with Kael.
His eyes searched mine, the softness in them darkening to sothing I couldn’t quite na. "You really don’t make it easy for , do you?" he murmured, the edge of a smile tugging at his mouth, but there was tension coiled beneath it... quiet, restrained, dangerous in the way only Kael could be when emotion cracked through his composure.
"What do you an?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
His hand slid from my neck to the small of my back, steady, anchoring. "I walk in, and he’s here. Sitting in front of you like he belongs there."
I sighed, the weight of his jealousy pressing against the fragile peace between us. "We’re friends, Kael."
"I know." His jaw tightened. "But sotis it feels like everyone wants a piece of you, and I... " He stopped himself, looking away for a mont as if ashad of the thought, before eting my eyes again. "I just... don’t like sharing what’s mine."
The words should have stung, but they didn’t. They broke sothing else open instead... that strange ache in my chest that ca with loving him. Because beneath all his sharpness, there was fear, too. The kind he’d never admit to.
So I touched his face... gently, deliberately... until his eyes softened again. "You don’t have to hold that tightly," I whispered. "I’m not going anywhere."
He looked at like he wanted to believe it, like he was trying to fight off sothing heavier than jealousy itself. His hand rose to cover mine, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against mine.
"Then don’t," he breathed, and the plea in his voice nearly undid .
"I won’t," I said, my voice trembling just a little.
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