CHAPTER SEVEN

Lyra’s pov

I felt his lingering stare. The way those pairs of eyes bored into my back and searched for my very soul.

As expected of a Maddox.. a killer and a murderer. I wouldn't have expected anything less.

I caught sight of something. A building.

Lots of buildings in here, but that particular one was painted in different colours.

I walked towards it, steps calculated.

Pushed the door open, then my expression darkened.

Killian….sprawled on the bed at the extreme like an exhausted jelly..

Well, except this time he wasn't fucking some holes and spilling guts..

He caught sight of her, forced his frame up.

I squinted, gaze lingering on his biceps, trailed to his chest then face –what a waste of beauty.

“ What are you doing here?” He asked, voice cold, face tight.

I scoffed internally.

“ Failure has a scent. Followed it to get rid of it and ended up here” i dropped and his jaw worked.

His veins bulged and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Wasn't he all bold yesterday? Why the cowardice?

“ You–mind your words” he said, his jaw clenched, shoulders trembling from controlled rage or perhaps too much drugs.

Disdain overtook my features as I stared at him. What women deemed a dream come true was nothing but a myth to me.

He was the dream but I would turn it into a nightmare–with time.

My gaze fell onto the bed, the designs. It trailed to the curtains, then the walls.

My brows furrowed. This place used to be an art room. It had a female touch to it.

Then I saw a picture, a woman. Bright smile, sparkling eyes, pink garments.

If innocence was a person, the woman in the picture gave off that aura.

Who was she? And why did it seem Killian came to feed her presence?

“ Leave…wife” Killian dropped. The last word was a bit strained and forced.

I squinted, wife? Was that another way of saying ‘ I'm holding back my anger?’

I exhaled, took multiple steps backwards, then turned to leave.

I returned to my room, eyes scanning the entire space like a predator out for its prey.

I had checked every exit while returning. Entrances, blindspots, everything.

But I wasn't alone …eyes watched, whispers among the bikers.

I had heard them say a lot of things.

“ Is she the new bride?” One of the bikers had asked

“ More like a new toy” another said and they erupted into a loud laughter.

My throat burned. A new toy? Me ? A princess of the Crimson fang?

I swallowed, letting the words sink in.

Good! I'd remind them when this empire comes crumbling to the floor. I'd make them realise that the fear of my name was the beginning of wisdom.

It was an oath not just a promise!

I fished out my phone and opened my conversation with Marcus. My gaze lingered on the name.

Nostalgia.

I thought of what to tell him but nothing popped up.

I exhaled. What exactly had happened?

Was I supposed to tell him how I got drunk on the first day, talked to the enemy I had been waiting to slay like he was a friend?

Or perhaps inform him that things were slowly drifting off plan. That I wouldn't have to play the perfect wife anymore?

Or …maybe breakfast?

I paused…. breakfast.

I typed into the phone, “ Killian is not the key holder here. I might need to gain Grave's trust …first”

I sent the message, stared at it for a while then dipped my phone into my pocket.

Killian was what people called, ‘ a sorry excuse for a son’

Nothing to be proud of and I had seen the look on Grave’s face when he talked to him. The disdain, coldness that dripped when he gazed at him.

The venom that curled at his tongue when he spoke to his ‘son’.

I smiled, eyes flashing with a dark glint.

Plan A failed but letters didn't end at A, did it?

I fell onto my bed, then my gaze sharpened.

It was a flicker of red dot. Almost unnoticeable.

I turned off the lights. My room plunged into darkness. Then I turned on my torch light.

I moved from one corner to the other, red lights glaring at me in a dot.

My heart sank–mommentarily.

Cameras! There were cameras everywhere!

All glaring at me.

They were watching me.

As expected! I was the only stranger in their midst. The daughter of their enemy.

The daughter of the empire that threatened theirs.

Now I had something worthwhile to tell Marcus. I was being watched, my moves calculated.

I walked into the bathroom, switched off the lights, using my phone lights once again.

I breathed out in relief. At least, my naked form was spared the horror of being watched.

…or so I thought.

Bugs! Bugs to overhear what I was saying.

I let out a sharp, short laughter.

Impressive!

But– even bugs couldn't stop me from achieving my goals.

The bugs? I'd deal with them!

I moved out of the bathroom, changed into a night outfit as darkness had descended.

A day gone, nothing tangible accomplished.

I let out a loud exasperated sigh.

At least I would have to sleep alone, away from a drunk mess but–nothing seems to align with me here. Killian walked into the room.

Not the usual mess, different, no smirks.

Just a straight, cold face.

I wish I cared…but I didn't..

He passed, a faint scent of rosemary hung around him, a paint on his neck.

I scoffed. Why I'm I not surprised?

I walked towards the balcony, my hands on the balustrade, plans in my head.

I needed to gain Grave's thought and fast too. Spending more time here would compromise me and I wasn't out to be compromised not after years of training for this opportunity.

I fished out my phone, typed into it, “ cameras and bugs everywhere but I've got it under control”