KAI'S POV
A soft, insistent breeze whispered through my office window, making the loose papers on my desk tremble, the air felt different now, Lighter.
He's gone.
The image of his face, crumbling, shocked, hurt—flickered behind my eyes for a second before I firmly pushed it away. It wasn't my problem, and it never would be.
He was out of my head, out of my space, and my focus could now return, laser-sharp, to the mission.
This college was my hunting ground, and I was the apex predator.
Dring»»
The vibration of my phone against the polished mahogany was a jarring intrusion. I didn't need to look to know who it was, only one person commanded that specific, imperious tone, and it would be no other person than my ruthless boss,
Sam Pedro.
I picked up the device, my grip deliberately calm. "Yes, sir."
His voice was a low, gravelly rumble, the kind that vibrated deep in your bones. "What have you been up to lately, Kai, that you haven't made time to come visit?"
My fingers drummed a silent, tense rhythm on the desk.
Visits?
They were never just visits, "I'm focused on the mission you gave me, Sir," I answered, layering my tone with a deference I no longer truly felt.
He had nurtured me, trained me, shaped me into the weapon I was, a father figure, once,and now… now I was starting to see the cracks in the foundation. The unspoken demands that extended far beyond professional duty.
"A mission doesn't mean you can't come visit your family." The words weren't loud, but they thundered through the receiver, a clear reprimand. "Make up time and come, I need to show you something."
The line went dead.
Slowly, I set the phone down, as the veins on the back of my hand stood out, tight and corded.
Sam Pedro never called for nothing. It was either a new, more dangerous assignment or one of his "gifts." The kind that came with strings attached so taut they could strangle you. My head spun with the implications, a familiar, bitter taste coating my mouth.
My eyes cut to the clock. 9:55 AM,
I have a class by 10:00 AM.
I was the most diligent professor at this university, a personal meticulously crafted for this assignment. I gathered my leather-bound notebook, a prop as much as a tool, and exited, locking the door with a definitive click.
No one was supposed to see anything in there.
The walk to the lecture hall was a performance. I felt the weight of gazes, admiration from the female students and some of the younger faculty, envy from the men. I was the center of attention, and the mask of the charming, enigmatic Professor Kai settled over me like a second skin.
It was perfect,
It was exactly what I needed.
I entered the classroom just as the final bell chimed, a hush fell over the room, the students straightening in their seats.
"Morning, class."
"Morning, Professor Kai!" their voices chorused back, a wave of eager energy.
I offered them my best, most disarming smile as the class president, a serious young lady with sharp eyes, handed me the attendance sheet.
"Is that everybody?" I asked, my voice a smooth, and we'll cultured
"Just about, sir, two students are absent today," she said, pointing to two names neatly checked off.
"Okay. Thank you," I whispered, my eyes scanning the list, and the names registered instantly.
Ethan Ray and Park Ave.
"Ethan!?" I wondered my eyes scanning the hall.
My heart gave a single, hard thump against my ribs, a traitorous, reaction that had no place in my controlled world.
What is wrong with me?
I took a slow, steadying breath, the paper crisp under my thumb, I just couldn't afford distractions. Especially not one with tousled brown hair and eyes that saw a little too much.
I launched into the lecture on geopolitical theory, my body moving on autopilot while my mind wrestled with the echo of Pedro's command and the unwanted ghost of Ethan's absence.
The hour passed in a blur of familiar rhetoric and engaged questions. As the students began to pack their bags, I turned to write a final reading assignment on the board, when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I reached out, fished it and checked the screen, it was a text message from Pedro:
Cherry Street Apt 55
It was a location, the place we're going to have our meeting, and for every reason, it all smelt fishy, and I was determined to get to the bottom of everything.
~
Just as dark as the night sky, so was my heart, that night, the city lights bled into a smear of gold and red against the tinted windows of my car, a perfect reflection of the chaos simmering inside me.
Pedro's text had been a command, not an invitation. A location, a time, and a silent understanding that refusal wasn't an option. I craved freedom, a future where my own desires meant something, but tonight… tonight was about survival. I just needed to focus on what was ahead.
I got off the steering, as i stood in front of the tall building building with a monolith of glass and steel, piercing the underbelly of the clouds. One of Pedro's tool for laundering more than just money.
The lobby was cold, impersonal marble echoing my solitary footsteps.
I was heading to the 55th floor. I hurried inside, as I checked in with the receptionist with my card, with a mute nod, I took the elevator, and stoped at the Fifty- fifth floor, I traced it and saw the room number 111.
I knocked, a soft rap that betrayed none of the storm inside.
"Enter."Pedro's hard voice pull through.
I pushed the heavy door open and my world tilted. The air left my lungs in a silent rush, as my bones stiffened and my blood ran cold.
There he was,
Calico Orans.
Seated opposite Pedro like a king holding court. His presence was a physical blow, he was one of the names on my list, a man I'd dreamt of ending once I finally broke free from Pedro's gilded cage. And now he was here, in the flesh, a smug knowing in his cold eyes.
"Where are your manners, Kai?" Pedro's voice cut through my frozen stare, a razor wrapped in silk.
I forced my body to move, giving a shallow, silent bow to each man, without saying a word, before taking the empty seat between them. The leather sighed under my weight.
I could feel Pedro's displeasure like a heat wave, but my gaze was locked on Calico. I could tell he wasn't pleased with .y behavior either, he clenched his ceramic mug, his knuckles bleaching to white.
"Pardon him, Calico. He seems to have these… mood swings." Pedro's side-eye was a warning I chose to ignore.
Calico set his mug down with deliberate softness and rubbed his jaw, a dark, tiny grin curling his lips. "That's not a problem, Pedro, especially when he's going to be my son-in-law soon."
The words didn't compute!
They bounced around the opulent room, meaningless, and I suddenly stopped breathing as my eyes almost popped from their sockets.
" Son-in-law?" The air grew thick, and suffocating with each passing time.
My eyes locked onto Calico's smug face, my blood running so cold I could feel the ice crystallizing in my veins.
Son-in-law?
The man I planned to disembowel with my own hands wanted to call me family.
Before I could form a single word of protest, a side door I hadn't noticed opened, and a tall figure emerged, and every coherent thought I had left evaporated.
As he walked in, elegantly.
I felt my breath hitched, every thought of vengeance, every plan for violence, evaporated from my mind.
Tylenol Neil?