KESTER.
The room still smelled of her-faint traces of sweat and sex, the sheets tangled from where I had fucked her until her voice broke.
I had brought the sex from the mini room to the main bedroom. I wanted to mark every corner of this room with our sin. And I almost did.
Just a few more corners left.
She had clawed at my back, bitten into my shoulder, screamed my name like she had nothing left in her world but me.
And for a while, that was all I needed.
Now, reality had crept back in.
I sat at the edge of the bed, naked, one hand dragging through my damp hair while the other scrolled through the endless stream of disaster flooding my inbox.
The Scotland branch was bleeding money. Someone was pulling strings behind the scenes and cutting off my supply chain.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of my nose. Valor Lante was behind this. That much was clear. But they weren’t attacking directly. They were using Belinzo.
The contract between Belinzo and Valor Lante had seemed harmless on the surface-just a standard supplier agreement, nothing more. But now it was obvious what was happening.
They were prioritizing Valor Lante’s shipments, pushing Zamford Tech to the bottom of the list.
They had cut me off from the very materials I needed to keep my projects moving.
My fingers tapped on the keyboard of my laptop as I typed out an email to Rhys Carter, my Operations Manager.
Me: I need you to get to Scotland ASAP. Dig into the supply chain. Find out exactly where the chokehold is. If Belinzo is the problem, I want proof. If Valor Lante is pulling the strings, I want leverage. We can’t afford another quarter like this. If you need to put pressure on the smaller suppliers, do it. But I want shipments moving. Call me the second you get anything useful.
I hit send, then reached for my phone. There were other fires to put out, and I had to do it myself. Not because there wasn’t someone who could help-June could. With a single word, she could smooth this over.
Her father’s connections stretched farther than the Mediterranean Sea. That’s how connected he was.
He could twist Belinzo’s arm, put pressure on Valor Lante, and make sure the Scotland branch stopped bleeding before the next quarter collapsed on me.
That was why my father wanted this marriage so fucking badly. It wasn’t about me, or love, or family. It was strictly about power.
And maybe that was what I should do. Maybe I should stop being so fucking stubborn, marry June, let her fix this, and be done with it.
But I wasn’t going to.
I wasn’t going to crawl to her. Wasn’t going to let my father push me into a life I didn’t want with a woman I felt nothing for.
If I couldn’t pull my company back from the edge on my own, then I had no business running it.
Jaw tight, I dialed Logan Drake, my legal advisor. The moment he picked up, I didn’t waste time.
“Look into the Belinzo contract with Valor Lante. I want to know if there’s a loophole we can use to break their exclusivity deal.”
Logan sighed on the other end. “This again? Kester, if Belinzo signed a priority contract with them, they’re within their rights-”
“I don’t give a fuck about their rights.” My voice came out sharp, low. “I care about getting my shipments. Find me a way in. Or better yet, find me a way to fuck them over.”
A pause. Then, “I’ll see what I can do.”
I hung up.
The TV was on, and the low hum of the news already felt like a distraction to me. I felt like turning it off already. But before I picked up the remote, a name mentioned by the reporter hit me.
Elliot Greyson.
I looked up, and his face was on the screen. Again.
His picture was on display-the one he had obviously taken before he got on the flight. The one before I killed him.
Breaking News: Elliot Grayson, Young Entrepreneur, Found Dead Mid-Flight to Maldives…
The reporter’s voice trailed off when I heard angry footsteps ascending the stairs.
They still hadn’t stopped broadcasting the fucking thing, still running theories, still digging for answers they’d never find because the only answer was me.
“Kester!”
Fuck. Not now.
The sound of her bare feet against the marble stairs sent a pulse through my skull. I already knew why she was coming.
I sat back, muscles coiling, bracing myself just before the door slammed open.
She stood there, wrapped in my shirt, her hair still a mess from what we’d done earlier.
“Kester! Elliot was…” She paused when she saw me sitting unbothered in front of the TV.
Her eyes flicked to the TV, then back to me.
“You knew.”
It was not a question.
I didn’t move. Instead, I set my laptop aside. “Knew what, Kasmine?”
Her voice trembled while her gaze burned into mine. “Elliot. He-he was on that plane, Kester. He was the one I was talking to when you walked in and dragged me with you. And now he’s dead.” She left the door and took slow steps toward me as if she were walking close to something she couldn’t bear to believe. She looked at me like I had done something no one else had ever done.
I let the silence settle between us while I let her sit in it.
Her breathing hitched, and I saw tears gathering in her beautiful green eyes.
Fuck. She was crying for another man.
Another. Fucking. Man.
What exactly do I do with this girl and her attachment to them? Why does she keep testing me?
“Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this, Kester. Please.” She whispered, desperate for me to deny it. One tear slipped down her cheek. A single drop, but it felt like I was bleeding from the heart. I hated it when she cried. I wish I could kill that fucking Elliot ten more times for being the reason Mine cried.
I exhaled and stood up, casually walking to the closet to get something to wear. “You know who I am, Kasmine. Don’t ask me to lie to you.”
“What?” She breathed out in a shaky whisper, covering her mouth to suppress the whimper that had already escaped her throat. “How could you? Why?” Her voice broke.
“Because he touched what’s mine.” I paused and said over my shoulder. I already had enough I was handling. Women’s drama wasn’t one I’d like to add to my plate right now.
“He was just an innocent young man,” she choked out, trying to rationalize it, trying to make me feel something I didn’t. “He was here on a business trip to meet-”
“I don’t fucking care, Kasmine!” I snapped at her, turning to face her. “And if another man fucking touches you like that again, I’ll do more than kill him silently and let his body be found on a plane.”
I slowly approached her while she took desperate steps backward with her eyes still glued on me. “I’ll cut off his hands and deliver them to you in a bouquet while I’d serve his head on a platter for you.”
“Kester…”
“The lives of a lot of people are in your hands, baby. You’ll decide who lives and who dies. And you know how.” I added, my body ghosting over her small one, and she looked like I could break her just with the snap of my fingers. She was so fragile that it made my cock ache always.
“You’re a monster,” she whispered.
A slow smile stretched my lips at the compliment.
Finally, she understood.
“You’ve always known this since childhood, little sister. I’ve always been a monster for you.” My fingers brushed the side of her face softly, but she flinched and pulled away.
I caught her chin before she could go too far, forcing her to look at me. “You wouldn’t want to do that, baby. Don’t ever pull away from me,” I said with a smile, but funny how I meant every word I said.
Her scent calmed the raging storm that was threatening to swallow me whole moments ago. There was something about her-something only she had, something that settled in my blood like an addiction.
And that’s why I couldn’t imagine a life without her.
Because without her-
There would be nothing left of me.
A knock on the front door broke the heavy silence between us, and we both stared at each other with one question on our minds…
Who the fuck was that?
“Are you expecting anyone?” Kasmine asked after a pause, wiping her eyes.
“This is Maldives, Kasmine. I don’t have acquaintances,” I replied, pulling away from her and putting on the shirt and shorts I had pulled out of the closet.
While I headed out of the room to see who it was at the door, I saw Kasmine going toward the closet, but I did not pay attention to her.
As I ascended the stairs, I heard her footsteps behind me, more hurried than mine, but I still didn’t pay attention to her. She was obviously also coming to see who was at the door. Or, so I thought, until I heard her walk into the kitchen instead.
When I reached the door, I pulled it open. The world tilted on its axis enough to remind me that gravity was still a bitch. But not so much of a bitch as the one standing right before me like a bad investment I had written off, burned, and buried, only to find the ashes sitting pretty on my doorstep.
June.
Fucking June.