Chapter 285: Visitor
KAEL
It always crept up on me.
The date.
No matter how far I thought I’d buried it, no matter how loud the world got... when it got close, I felt it in my bones. The cold settled in first. Then the noise in my head. Then the guilt.
Then the fucking nightmares.
I hadn’t slept. Not really. The few hours I managed were drugged and drenched in half-formed memories of blood, smoke, and Ivan’s smile turning to ash.
I sat in the dark again. My penthouse windows spilled city light across the floor, but it didn’t touch me. It never did.
I was back to drinking like I had something to forget. Or like I had nothing left to hold on to. Same thing.
Erin’s little notebook, her big bright plans... she’d pulled me out of the pit for a second. She reminded me of him. In her voice. Her mannerisms. The way she leaned in when she talked, like every word was urgent.
But I wasn’t him anymore. And she wasn’t enough to fix that.
Nothing was.
I ran a hand over my face. My skin felt hot. Dry. I hadn’t bothered shaving. I couldn’t remember the last real thing I ate.
Niko had tried to get me to rest earlier, but I’d thrown my phone at him and told him if anyone died in the next hour, they could stay dead until I was sober again. He got the message.
I should’ve felt bad. I didn’t.
My father had gone quiet these past few weeks. And that, somehow, scared me more than when he was barking down my neck. Silence from my father only meant one thing, he was setting the stage.
And Andrew? God knew what that snake was up to. But I couldn’t find it in me to care. I already made my mind to allow the little bastard play his games, to let the whole world burn, if it wanted.
I reached for the half-empty glass on the table beside me.
The liquor burned, but it was a good kind of burn. The kind that told me I was still here.
Still breathing.
Unfortunately.
I hated this month.
I hated this silence.
And I hated how fucking much I needed her.
I closed my eyes and she came back to me immediately. Sitting at that damn park, stuffing fries into her mouth...
God I missed her too much, even when she threatened to break my fingers.
I would let her. Happily. If it meant I got to feel her hands again.
But she told me to stay away.
And this time... I listened.
Because I’ve only ever destroyed the things I wanted to protect.
Even her.
Especially her.
And still... no matter how many times I reminded myself of that... I missed her. I missed her so badly it made my ribs ache. Like something inside me was trying to claw its way out just to find her.
I curled forward, resting my elbows on my knees, glass dangling between my fingers.
I had loved Ivan like breathing.
But I loved Aria like a prayer I never deserved to have answered.
And now, they were both gone.
....
The headache hit me like a truck the moment I opened my eyes.
God, what the fuck was in that whiskey?
I groaned, dragging myself upright on the couch, body stiff from sleeping half-naked and half-dead. My mouth tasted like I’d swallowed fire. The kind that doesn’t go out.
I staggered toward the bathroom, ignoring the pile of clothes on the floor and the empty glass beside the couch. The shower’s hiss filled the silence, and for a second, the steam felt like a veil I could hide behind.
I tried not to think.
But I was weak. I always was when it came to her. Her voice haunted the corners of my mind, soft and angry and sad all at once. That last look in her eyes before she pushed me away... it gutted me.
I leaned forward under the spray, fingers braced against the tile, water running down my back like it could wash out the ache in my chest.
It didn’t.
It never did.
When I stepped out of the bedroom, towel slung low on my hips, I didn’t even hear the front door open. Not until I saw the shadow move through the living room.
And then... the voice.
"Oh, Kael. What a charming little place you’ve got here. Shame about the mess."
I froze.
No. Fucking. Way.
"Get out," I growled, voice still rough with sleep and smoke.
My father stood there like he owned the building. Like walking into my space unannounced was his divine right.
He was dressed immaculately, as always... pressed navy suit, cufflinks. His greying hair slicked back, that same ever-smiling mouth, and those dead, calculating eyes.
"Is that any way to speak to your father?" he tutted, stepping deeper inside like I hadn’t just threatened him. "You’re always so cold to me son. So cruel. It wounds me, truly."
I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t afford to.
"What do you want?" I snapped, muscles tensing beneath the damp towel.
He tilted his head, hands in his pockets, glancing around as if he were inspecting an art gallery and not my goddamn home.
"I had a little birdie tell me you’ve been spiraling lately," he said with a mock pout. "And since you’ve been too busy sulking in your glass tower to attend any meetings or answer my calls, I decided to visit my dear son in person."
I clenched my jaw. "You don’t check on people, Ewan. You check on your assets."
He smiled wider, like I’d just proved his point.
"Smart boy. Always have been."
My fingers itched to throw something. Or maybe just throw him.
"What do you want?" I asked again, voice low, laced with warning.
"Oh, come now. Can’t I visit without some nefarious plan?" His eyes gleamed. "Besides... you’ve got quite the emotional week ahead. Your precious soldier’s anniversary, hmm?"
My hands balled into fists.
He walked closer, slowly, deliberately... like he knew I wouldn’t snap. Like he dared me to.
"You know, Kael," he said gently, "grief is a wonderful thing. It makes people vulnerable. Loose-tongued. Easy to manipulate."
My blood ran cold.
"You never get tired, do you?" I countered.
I hadn’t moved from where I stood, dripping wet, towel sitting low on my hips, glare fixed and unwavering as my father made himself at home on the fucking couch like he paid the rent.
"A pest," I muttered. "That’s all you are."
My father let out a soft chuckle, leaning back against the cushions like this was his fucking lounge and not my home.
"A pest to my own son? Kael, darling, that hurts."
I scoffed, muscles tense and jaw locked. "Why the fuck do you think it’s true then?"
He paused... just for a second... and scanned me with that predator’s gaze. That calculating stare that stripped you down to your barest, ugliest self.
"You look like a mess," he said after a beat. "A shadow of the man I raised. Is this the heir I groomed to rule a fucking empire?"
"You can keep your empire," I snapped. "Choke on it for all I care."
He smiled slowly. "I warned you again and again... if only you hadn’t fallen in love like a child chasing a fairytale..."
"I’m not doing this with you." I moved to walk, but then...
He said it.
"Tragic, about Aria’s father."
I stopped cold.
He knew.
Of course he knew.
My fists clenched at my sides as I turned slowly, voice colder than steel. "What the fuck are you getting at?"
My father’s smile stretched wider as he stood, casually, calmly as if he hadn’t just dropped a goddamn landmine in the middle of my chest.
"I couldn’t help but dig a little," he said softly, closing the distance between us with infuriating ease. "Cartels. Ransoms. Army raids. A corpse for a father. She really knows how to bring chaos wherever she goes."
I stepped forward, my voice lowering to a dangerous murmur. "Say her name again."
His grin didn’t falter. "Don’t look so surprised, son. I thought you’d be the first to look into her family’s messy history. But then again, love makes men blind. And stupid."
My blood boiled. But I didn’t lash out. Not yet.
"Her father," he continued with a casual shrug, "was apparently a wanted man. Slippery. Managed to stay hidden for years. But then... what a coincidence... he gets found. Right after you drag Aria into your world."
I narrowed my eyes. "You’re saying someone helped him get found."
"I’m saying..." His tone dipped into something darker, wrapped with malice. "...someone had a reason. A motive. A message to send."
And then it clicked.
That bastard.
"You gave the cartel boss her father’s location." My voice was barely above a whisper. "You leaked the fucking intel."
"Oh?" Ewan’s smile was wolfish now, cruel and full of teeth. "Wouldn’t you like to know son?"
I stepped toward him, towel forgotten, anger crackling beneath my skin like a live wire. "You piece of—"
"Careful now." He raised a finger like a schoolteacher scolding a child. "Throwing punches at Daddy won’t bring her father back. Or erase your guilt."
I could kill him. Right here. Right now.
But that’s the thing about monsters.
You kill them too early, and you miss the part where they reveal all the sick little truths they’re hiding.
I stepped back.
Silent. Seething.
"I’ll see myself out," he said, straightening his cuffs. "But do think about what I said. The world doesn’t revolve around your love story. Other people are playing this game too. And not everyone’s rooting for you."
He turned to the door and paused, just before leaving.
"Oh, and Kael?"
I didn’t respond.
"Try to get some sleep. You look like death warmed over. And I’d hate to lose my heir so soon."
The door shut behind him with a soft click.
I stood there in silence.
Heart racing.
Mind spinning.