It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.  

When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation. 

“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac. 

“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”  

Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier. 

But vengeance turns slippery when every insult she hisses ignites his obsession, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more."  

The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?

The words echoed in my head, bitter and insistent, twisting in my chest like a knot I couldn't untangle. Who was watching me? And why?


It had been almost a day since I found the red envelope sitting neatly on my desk, its message scrawled in bold, taunting ink. And yet, no matter how many times I turned it over in my mind, I still had no clue who had left it. And what exactly were they trying to do? Warn me? Inform me?


A sudden honk snapped me from my thoughts. Niko cursed under his breath as he swerved, narrowly avoiding a car that had cut into our lane. My pulse jerked, but Kael? He just watched, amused, like the chaos of the world never touched him.


I stole a glance at him, a little too long, watching the way he sat—composed, pristine, a tablet resting lazily on his lap as he scrolled. Perfect. He was always fucking perfect. No matter the situation, Kael Roman remained untouchable. And that pissed me off.


Chapter 48 - Who is watching?