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 was supposed to sleep with him, not love him. I was supposed to use his body, not crave his comfort. I was supposed to leave, not need to stay.


But I had crossed that line. Quietly. Unknowingly. And by the time I noticed, it was too late.


I was already in love with him. No matter how much I admitted it to myself, it still didn't feel enough. 


And that was the most dangerous part of all.


So I shut down the softness. I smiled when I didn't mean it. I told him I was fine when I wasn't. I forced myself to ignore the little things, like how he made sure there was always tea for me, or how he barely touched his phone unless it was to take a call in another room so I wouldn't be disturbed.


But every time I acted like I didn't care, it cut him.


In the twitch of his jaw. In the way he swallowed before speaking. In how his hand would hover near mine like he wanted to hold it but didn't know if he was allowed anymore.


Chapter 161 - Burial/A ghost from the past