Page 38

Kai

I wrap up the video conference call with my operations manager, clicking the camera off before leaning back in my chair. Stretching, I rake a hand through my hair. My desk is a mess—assignments scattered in loose stacks, notes scribbled in the margins. I should be grading, but my thoughts keep straying.

To Nicole.

She’s been tense for the past few weeks. Ever since the night she came here. Since Lana and David announced their engagement.

Something’s been weighing on her.

And she still hasn’t talked to me about it.

It’s not that she’s pulling away. If anything, she’s doing the opposite—clinging, hungrier, more desperate for me. Like she’s afraid we have an expiration date.

It’s hard to see her like this, knowing something’s wrong and not knowing what the fuck to do about it. It makes it impossible for me to drop my own baggage on her.

How the fuck does a man tell his flight-prone girlfriend he has a murderous stalker?

Every instinct I have screams at me to take control, to demand she tell me what’s wrong. But I can’t.

Nicole needs her autonomy just as much as she needs my dominance, and it’s my job to know the difference. To know when to push and when to give her space.

That doesn’t make it easier.

My gaze drifts to the framed photo on the edge of my desk. Lana, the twins, and me at the beach last summer. She’s holding their hands and smiling brightly.

My jaw tightens. Lana swears up and down that Nicole misread the situation last week. But Nicole isn’t a child. And she doesn’t lie.

She can’t lie. She’s too open, too transparent. She wears her emotions like a second skin, and she couldn’t hide them if she tried.

And she knows an abuser when she sees one.

I rub the back of my neck, trying to shake the unease that’s been clawing at me. Nicole wouldn’t have come running to me if she wasn’t absolutely sure of what she saw.

Footsteps pound down the hallway, breaking through my thoughts. Seconds later, the study door bursts open, and Liam and Lucas barrel inside, their backpacks slung haphazardly over their shoulders.

“Happy-almost-birthday, Uncle Kai!” They scream so loud my ears ring.

I glance at the clock on my laptop. 3 p.m. Of course. They’re just home from school.

Lana appears in the doorway a moment later, carrying a small cake topped with uneven swirls of white frosting and what looks like a mound of sprinkles. They must have baked it at David’s place.

I laugh, ruffling the boys’ hair as they cling to various parts of me. “You didn’t have to do this, boys.”

“Oh, we absolutely did,” Lana says, setting the cake down with a grin. “I know you’ll spend your actual birthday holed up with Nic —maybe even whisk her off to destinations unknown. I figured we’d better get our own share of celebrating early.”

She’s not wrong. My birthday is this weekend, and although I haven’t even mentioned it to Nicole, I can’t think of any other way I’d rather spend the weekend.

The twins launch into an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday. Lana joins in, her laughter weaving through the melody.

Perching on the edge of the desk, I cross my arms and listen.

“Here!” Liam shoves an unevenly wrapped gift into my hands the second the song ends. “Open it!”

I tear the paper away to find a clay-molded version of what could be me—wearing a cape and a villain mask.

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Wow. Such talent. You two even got my abs right.”

Liam grins. “Yeah, I know, right? We couldn’t decide between a ghostface mask or Darth Vader, so we just went with the Dark Knight.”

Lana snorts, handing me a tiny wrapped package. “This is from me.”

I tug at the ribbon, letting the paper fall away. Something silvery drops into my palm.

It’s an old coin about the size of a dime, but heavier.

Even under the dim lights, its worn edges gleam. I squint at the ancient markings, recognizing the profile of the first century emperor. "A Vespasian denarius?"

Lana chuckles. "Yes."

“Really?” I flip it over. I freeze.

The tails side is gone. Not faded or worn down by time. It was intentionally filed away.

I arch a brow, running my thumb over the altered surface. "You defaced a rare, two thousand year old denarius?"

Lana shrugs, eyes bright with mischief. "You don’t need tails, Chase Mitchell. All your bets are rigged."

Well, then. A slow grin tugs at my lips at her dark meaning. It’s rare. Personal. One of a kind.

"Not bad, Lana,” I murmur, flipping it once before slipping it into my pocket. "Not bad at all."

She beams, her cheeks reddening at the praise. For a moment, she’s four again—my baby sister who used to follow me everywhere. Before everything got so complicated.

I catch Liam and Lucas eyeing the cake like wolves circling prey. Then, in a blink, Liam snatches it up.

“Lucas and I will slice it up and bring you a piece!” He’s already heading toward the door, not waiting for a response. Lucas quickly trails after him.

I snort. “Sure you will,” I call after them, then glance at Lana. “We’ll be lucky to get a crumb between those two.”

Lana laughs, then hoists herself onto my desk beside me. For a second, there’s something in her smile. Something strained. Guarded.

Before I can ask, Lucas reappears in the doorway, backpack slung over one shoulder, his mouth already smeared with frosting.

“I forgot to give you this, Uncle Kai.” He digs into his bag one-handed.

I frown. “What is it?”

Lucas pulls out a small, neatly wrapped package, the glossy brown paper catching the light. “Some lady at school asked me to give you this.”

I freeze.

My focus narrows on the package. It’s about the size of a kid’s shoebox.

“What lady?” Lana takes the package from him.

Lucas shrugs, already distracted by whatever Liam’s whispering to him. “I dunno. It was just as David was picking us up. I think she was some kid’s mom.”

Lana passes the gift to me, her brows wagging. “Thirsty mom, maybe?”

“Thanks, bud,” I say, forcing my tone to stay light. “Go finish destroying that cake before your brother eats it all.”

Lucas grins and bolts, leaving the room silent again.

Lana’s gaze flicks to me. “Are you going to open it?”

I keep my expression bland as I roll the package between my palms. “In a minute.” For some reason, I don’t want to open it while she’s here.

Lana hesitates, watching me for a moment longer before rolling her eyes. “Fine. I’ll let you dive into your sex mail in peace.”

I catch her wrist before she goes, motioning for her to sit back down. She hesitates, then does.

“Do you love him?” I push the package aside.

Lana blinks, caught off guard. “David?”

I nod. For a moment, the room feels too still.

She hesitates, lips parting like she’s searching for the right words. “Yes,” she finally says. “I thought I didn’t, but I think . . . deep down, I always have.”

Her gaze drops to the floor, fingers tracing the seam of her sleeve. “He was there for me, Kai. When you weren’t. When foster parents kept dumping me for being too clingy and moody. When school teachers made me feel like a freak. David was there. And after Mark died and I couldn’t look at myself, David was there.”

Her words land like a punch to the gut, and guilt twists in my stomach.

I needed to leave. Someone had to rewrite history for the Keonis. It’s cost us both so much, but the alternative was unthinkable—we’d both be dead.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, watching her carefully. There’s a vulnerability in her I don’t see often.

“Alright, Lana.” My voice is quiet but firm. “Go for it.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide. “You mean it?”

I shrug. “If he makes you happy.” Her face lights up with a smile so genuine it twists something in my chest.

She throws her arms around my neck, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. “Thanks, Kai. He’s been so worried, thinking he’s destroyed your trust in him.”

He has.

But I don’t say that. Better to let him think he’s off the hook . . . and wait for him to slip up again.

As she straightens, her gaze flicks toward the almost-forgotten package. “Better not let Nic find those panties, okay?”

I chuckle as she leaves. Once I’m alone, I turn the package over in my hands. The glossy brown wrapping is smooth beneath my fingers.

It’s not the first time I’ve received something like this.

Being in the public eye comes with its share of odd fan mail and unwanted attention. My birthday is public knowledge and I know the twins brag about who their uncle is, despite Lana’s warnings never to.

I run my thumb over the paper. The edges are perfectly creased. Whoever wrapped this took their time. The wrapping gives way easily, exposing a sleek black box inside.

I flip the lid open and my blood turns to ice.

A black feather, its tip dipped in red so vivid it almost gleams.

My stomach churns even as I try to convince myself it’s a mistake.

I know better.

My knuckles whiten around the box as I reach for the paper tucked beneath the feather. It’s heavy, expensive—the kind people use when they want to make an impression.

I turn it over.

And feel the blood drain from my face as I read:

Fifteen years. Three graves. And you still haven’t learned the rules of this game. You want me to spell it out? Well, here it is. Leave her. Now. Or start digging a few more graves.

The choice is yours.

The note crumples in my hand before I even realize I’ve clenched my fist. My vision blurs, my pulse a deafening roar in my ears. I hear nothing but the pounding of my heart.

My free hand grips the desk for balance, knuckles white as the realization sinks in—cold and jagged.

There has never been a note. All I ever got were cryptic feathers.

Until now.

This time, there’s no mistake. No coincidence. And this time, they’re playing a far more dangerous game.

Because I have more to lose.

Lana. David. The twins. Bea. Frank.

And Nicole.

Images flash through my head. Her smile. Her stubbornness. The way her eyes light up when she talks about her family. The neediness she tries so hard to hide.

I want her more than anything, but I’d lay down my life for her without a moment’s hesitation.

I’ve barely survived losing three women—pieces of myself ripped away by cruelty and fate—I won’t survive this.

Because Nicole isn’t just another woman I love. She’s not just mine. She’s me.

She triggers a part of me so primal,it’s almost terrifying.

I almost feel sorry for whoever sent this. Whoever has been killing those women. Threatened Nicole.

They’ve just awoken the darkness inside me.