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?

I excused myself from Kael's side with the kind of graceful smile that could fool a god. He didn't say anything when I left—not even a glance—and yet I could still feel his eyes on me. Always watching. Always reading.


I slipped into the soft, golden haze of the ballroom, where champagne shimmered in tall flutes and laughter hovered just above the music like perfume. A few guests paused to greet me, their smiles a little too bright, their curiosity far too thinly veiled. 


I returned each pleasantry with the practiced warmth of someone who knew how to play this game—polite, charming, untouchable.


Beneath my skin, I felt the tension unwind slowly, like a ribbon loosening around my ribs. Being near Kael for too long felt like dancing with a blade pressed to your back. Add men like executives and Investors to the mix, and the whole room became an orchestra of veiled threats and gilded lies.


Chapter 53 - A familiar game.