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Story: King of Power

“Everyone’s life is complicated,” she snaps back, folding her arms tighter across her chest. “Get in fucking line.”

I swallow hard but hold my ground. The truth is messy—so much darker than she realizes—but I can’t let that slip out. She can never know who I really am.

“Mine’s extra complicated,” I say, trying to soften my tone but still keeping it firm enough for her to understand there’s no arguing my point here. “This club has enemies. Your presence here puts you at risk.”

She scoffs again but leans closer as if intrigued despite herself, a flicker of curiosity breaking through the wall she built around herself.

“You don’t get it,” I continue, forcing myself to remain calm as my pulse pounds in my ears. “Nothing good ever comes from being with me.”

“So you vanished to spare me?” She raises an eyebrow, daring me to answer.

The weight of my silence hangs between us. She might not trust me now, but deep down? There’s still that connection we once had—a thread woven tightly even after all this time apart. And right now? It’s all I have left to protect us both from whatever dark fate looms ahead.

But my desire is a strong motherfucker. It’s making me weak.

Her defiance ignites something in me I thought was long buried, and against my will, my body betrays me. The heat radiating off her makes it hard to think straight. Every inch of me wakes up at the sight of her standing there, anger and vulnerability etched across her face like a map of all the things we could have been.

I feel it—the pull between us, magnetic and raw. It’s like a flame flickering to life, a fire I never wanted to fan again but I toss on another log anyway. I can’t help but want to reclaim what we once shared.

“Evelyn …” My voice barely escapes, thick with unspoken words.

She narrows her eyes, that familiar spark of mischief and challenge igniting within them. “What? You going to say you miss me? Spare me the bullshit.”

I swallow hard, every word weighing heavy on my tongue. “You don’t understand—”

“No,” she cuts in sharply. “You don’t understand. You left me hanging like I was nothing. And right after I told you about my ex. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to tell you those things?”

A flash of guilt hits me, hot and biting. Tension coils in my gut as she steps closer, pushing that invisible barrier between us until the air crackles with intensity.

Her proximity sends a rush through me—one that stirs the primal instinct to pull her against me, to shield her from everything dark and twisted in my world. I can’t let myself want this—not again. Not when my life is riddled with shadows that could swallow us whole.

Yet there she stands, confronting all the defenses I’ve constructed—my barriers disintegrating beneath the pressure of our history together.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she demands, but even as she says it, I can see it in her eyes—the same flicker of desire reflected back at me.

It’s infuriating and intoxicating all at once. The need to reach out—to claim what was once mine—gnaws at my insides like a hunger refusing to fade away.

“I’m sorry,” I finally manage to say, hoping she hears more than just words.

She laughs softly, but it’s laced with bitterness. “Spare me.”

My rebuttal hovers in the air between us—a confession yet unspoken. It stings because she’s right. She deserves better than what I’ve given her.

But damn it all to hell if my heart doesn’t betray every logical thought running through my mind when she stands there—eyes ablaze and wild curls framing her face like an untamed tempest.

That war within rages fiercely now. Each heartbeat drums a relentless rhythm against my chest while primal instincts claw for dominance over reason.

If she only knew what she did to me, she wouldn’t look at me with such fire and indignation.

I swallow hard, trying to push the heat rising within me back down. Her anger is a fire warming my blood, but I can’t let it consume me. Not here. Not now. Nor ever again.

Taking a deep breath, I ground myself, focusing on the coolness of the door behind me and the subtle hum of the club outside this private room. The bass from the music vibrates through my body—a reminder of what’s at stake.

“Eve,” I say, my voice low but firm, “you need to understand something.”

She narrows her eyes, still challenging me as if daring me to say something stupid. It’s a bold move on her part. She’s stepping into dangerous territory without even realizing it. Iadmire her spirit, but I can’t afford to get too close—to risk her life.

“You being in my club puts you in danger.” My words linger between us, dense and heavy, weighted with unspoken strain.