KAI
There was a particular kind of violence that served a purpose, and a particular kind that was just cruelty wearing a business suit.
I'd spent years telling myself I knew the difference. That every brutal act I committed fell on the right side of that line. That I was somehow better than my father because I had rules, boundaries, things I wouldn't do even when ordered.
But lately, staring at my reflection while washing someone else's blood off my hands, I wondered if that distinction was just a comfortable lie I told myself to sleep at night.
Maybe we were all monsters. Maybe some of us just had prettier justifications.
My phone rang at eight in the morning. Father's name on the screen made my jaw clench automatically.
"We have a situation." No greeting. Never a greeting. "One of the dealers in the east territory has been skimming product. Selling on the side. Big operation. Needs to be handled personally."
‘Personally’ that was a code for killing everyone.
"I'll take Marco and a few—"
"Take the girl."
My hand tightened around the phone hard enough the case creaked. "No."
"That wasn't a request, Kai. That was an order."
"She doesn't need to see—"
"She needs to fear us. Fear this family. Understand exactly what we're capable of." His voice went cold. Flat. "You've been too soft with her. Making her comfortable. That ends now. She needs to see what happens when people cross us. She needs to understand that running would be worse than staying."
"Father—"
"Take her with you. Make sure she has a clear view. I want her to understand completely what kind of family she's marrying into. Do I make myself clear?"
The line went dead.
I stood there, phone still pressed to my ear, trying to control the rage building in my chest.
He wanted me to traumatize her. Deliberately. Wanted me to destroy whatever fragile trust we'd built by making her watch me execute someone.
And I couldn't refuse. Couldn't tell him no without risking Lia. Without tipping my hand about how much Aria actually meant to me.
I remembered last time. The warehouse. The way she'd looked at me after I'd shot that dealer in the leg. Horror. Disgust. Fear.
And I was about to make it infinitely worse.
I stood outside Aria's door for a full minute, hand raised to knock, trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to say.
Hey, want to come watch me execute someone? It'll be fun.
Jesus Christ.
I knocked. Heard her call out for me to come in.
She was sitting by the window, sketchbook in her lap, pencil moving across paper in quick, confident strokes. Sunlight caught in her dark hair, made her skin glow. She looked up when I entered and smiled—that real smile that made something in my chest ache.
"Hey. I was just thinking about you." She turned thesketchbook to show me. A rough sketch of the garden, perfect and beautiful. Just like her.
"What do you think? I'm trying to capture how the light hits the roses in the afternoon but—"
She stopped. Must have seen something in my face.
