Heavy footsteps of expensive boots on the wooden platform of the staircase, controlled breathing, and the weight on each step. Even without any loud declaration, it was obvious who was coming downstairs.
Ophelia's chest tightens, eyes fluttering toward the stairs. Czar chuckles softly, "You are too cruel with your words, Kay."
Ophelia inhales sharply at the mention of that one name. Her biggest enemy, her longest foe, and the man whose life was taken by her—along with his wife and entire family—back in the past.
Kayros Natheniel's large frame descends from the stairs, and the air around the boutique adjusts itself accordingly.
Heads turn away, fear and anxiety in the gazes of anyone who has ever heard a single rumor about him.
Ophelia clenches her fists tightly, memories flooding in like a dam breaking, her heart beating fast—too fast—for the heavy silence in the boutique.
Vincent hisses angrily, "What are you doing here?"
Kayros's shining silver curls fall right above his eyebrows, his high cheekbones catching the light of the chandelier, flawlessly pale skin with a tint of cold undertone, and his eyes like arctic glaciers—cold and cruel just like his soul—make him look more like a mystical creature out of a fantasy book than a man.
Kayros's emotionless gaze alone can freeze a man to death without him even lifting a finger. His long lashes make him look dangerously handsome, like a forbidden fruit one knows will ruin them, yet wants anyway.
Ophelia remembers those eyes meeting hers thousands of times. Sometimes full of despise, sometimes disdain, sometimes pure animalistic rage, and most often emotions Ophelia can't pin down with one word.
Kayros once told her in the past,
"Nobody unsettles me as much as you do. And I hate it—how easily you can make me lose my control and composure."
Yet, standing before him now—the man she killed so heartlessly for her lover—Ophelia can only laugh in irony.
In her three lifetimes, the most honest and sincere relationship she ever shared with someone was with her longest enemy.
Kayros's ice-blue eyes meet Ophelia's hazel-green ones, the contrast between them obvious like day and night. Her heart unsettles ever so slightly, which she masks effortlessly.
Kayros is like a walking sculpture. Even though he is 27 years old, his fame as the heartless heir of the Natheniel family exceeds his age.
"Is this Ophelia Blackwood I am seeing?"
He questions her with an undertone of challenge. Ophelia nearly scoffs. Nearly.
"Seems like your memory is getting hazy with age, Kayros Natheniel."
Her tone is sarcastic and disinterested, quite contrary to what she is feeling—her heart doing strange jumps of excitement, ecstasy, and something she doesn't want to name.
As if, while killing him, Ophelia ever thought she would see him alive in a different life.
Czar glances between them with an amused expression. He knows about the strange relationship between the Blackwoods and the Natheniel family. Mostly Ophelia and Kayros…
Because, just until two years ago, Ophelia and Kayros were betrothed to each other as part of their families' attempt to bring two major powers together.
However, on her 18th birthday, Ophelia broke off the engagement and declared her love for Vincent in front of the world. The Natheniel family didn't make a big deal out of it since they already had strong business ties with the Blackwoods.
However, things between Ophelia and Kayros grew bitter cold. Kayros started hating Ophelia, and Ophelia started blaming Kayros for always being cold and distant during their engagement period.
Ophelia never said it outright…
Kayros was her first love—before Vincent, before Elosia. He was the first person she tried to give her heart to after her failed attempts to gain her family's love.
Something inside Ophelia blames Kayros for many things. If only Kayros had loved her back instead of Jessica… could she have avoided the bloodbath she caused for Vincent?
But it's all in her past life now.
Ophelia steels her heart and steps forward. Kayros's expression remains unreadable.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here," she says coldly.
Kayros looks at Czar. "I came with Czar. Had I known I would see you here…"
"You wouldn't have come." Ophelia chuckles bitterly. At this point, she has no idea how she even manages to breathe with so much pain in her heart. The heart she once gave him—yet he never held it, never protected it, never even bothered breaking it properly because it was meaningless.
Vincent stands up and stumbles forward. Elosia holds his arm to steady him. His trembling hand grips Ophelia's wrist and pulls her behind him.
"Stop drilling your gaze on my girlfriend."
Ophelia looks up, Vincent's back facing hers, his firm grip on her wrist tight and protective. If it were the past, she would have mistaken it for love and possessiveness.
Yet now she knows better.
Her eyes drop into a sad gaze, her lips tugging into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
Blocking her from Kayros, Vincent looks into Kayros's eyes—Kayros, who is taller, older, and bigger than Vincent.
At 6'5, broad shoulders underneath a tailored grey shirt and black pleated pants with a pair of black boots, Kayros can make even angels shy. Yet standing before bleeding Vincent—who is 6'0, comparatively leaner, and boyish-faced—Kayros feels something he doesn't acknowledge.
Czar gulps, sensing the tension. It's his best and worst trait: how fast he picks up things.
"Ah, right, right. Kay, since we are done, we should let the kids have fun—ahahaha."
Kayros throws a death glare at Czar for calling Ophelia, Elosia, and Vincent kids… which they are, since all three of them are 20 while Kayros is 27 and Czar is 28.
Czar keeps his smile on. Elosia's eyes barely leave his handsome face, which makes Vincent even more bitter about the situation.
"You should have chosen a better-looking man if you were going to ditch me, Ophelia Blackwood."
Vincent's eyes darken, his insecurities flaring up. Vincent is good-looking—but standing next to Kayros, he looks like a rather normal person with no notable features.
Czar presses his lips tight not to laugh. Ophelia scoffs and grits her teeth angrily, pulling her hand out of Vincent's grip as she steps forward.
She is so done with everything. And Kayros Natheniel knows exactly how to make her explode.
"Oh really? That's so sad. Because you are just a f***ing pretty face. Personality-wise," Ophelia hisses, "even dogs are better than you."
Elosia gasps, covering her mouth. Boutique staff close their eyes tight. This isn't even the first time Ophelia has exploded at Kayros.
"You—"
"Okay, okay! Let's not fight!" Czar starts dragging Kayros by the collar. Kayros's cold eyes drill into Ophelia.
"You are lucky you are still too young!" Kayros hisses, his deep voice sending a shiver down Ophelia's spine.
But she doesn't back down. Czar groans internally.
"What would you have done, huh?" she challenges him. Kayros's expression darkens, something dangerous brimming underneath.
"Something you clearly wouldn't like initially but—"
"Enough!" Czar's eyes widen as he covers Kayros's mouth, shaking his head.
Ophelia frowns in confusion. But she is the only one who can't guess what Kayros meant.
Vincent is trembling in intense rage. Elosia looks at Vincent and then back at Ophelia—who is standing cluelessly in the middle of something dark and dangerous she has no idea of.
Kayros's jaw clenches under Czar's palm around his mouth seeing Ophelia's wrist being held by Vincent.
"Tu étais censée être à moi." (You were supposed to be mine.)
And only Czar hears it.