Mila's POV
"The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen." My breath hitched, my heart skipped a beat, and a sharp tug deep in my stomach almost bordered on pain. I quickly gathered myself and turned to him. “You shouldn’t be saying this,” I scolded. “I like to state facts.” He softly blew away a tendril of hair falling from my braid, then walked away with a teasing smile. Blood rushed to my cheeks, leaving me speechless. Was he flirting with me? Since our eyes first met, there’s been this crackling energy between us, like something alive. If anyone touched it, they’d burn. And now, I feel like I’m standing too close to the fire. He shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be feeling this. At dinner, I made sure to sit as far from him as possible. His face was stoic, the teasing smile and charming glint in his eyes gone. When he sat at the head of the table, dressed in a fitted black shirt and pants, he looked like Hades himself, sucking the oxygen from the room. I dared a single glance at him, and he caught me. The corner of his lips curled slightly as he ate. I looked away swiftly. The moment dinner ended, I excused myself at the first opportunity. I wandered to the back garden of the beach house, finally able to breathe, though my thoughts were still tangled. Leaning against the wall, I lit a cigarette, placing it between my lips just as I heard footsteps—two sets, stopping a few feet away, where they couldn’t see me. I already suspected the purpose of this so-called trip with my father’s mafia friend, but now it was confirmed. My father was discrediting me, stating his intent to make Nicolai his heir. It stung more than I’d expected. Smoke rose above my head as I exhaled, listening to Mr. Knight give my father a vague response. I’d thought my father would easily sway Killian Knight, given their bond. But instead, Killian dismissed him coldly, even stopping him from smoking. If I weren’t so numb when it came to my father, I might have found the scene comical. I relaxed for a moment as their footsteps retreated—only for another pair to approach, closer this time. It wasn’t my father. Glancing at the cigarette in my hand, panic set in. D*mn it. Hadn’t he just warned my father? What would he do to me? I quickly stubbed it out and ran, circling around to find the nearest door leading back inside. I slipped through by the poolside, shutting the door behind me with a sigh of relief. Then I turned—and froze. Dark eyes stared back at me, reflecting the moonlight and fairy lights from the pool. “Got you, love.” The way the light framed him made him look both dangerous and devastating. F*ck. “A smoker and an eavesdropper,” he said, stepping closer. With the wall behind me and him blocking my path, there was nowhere to go. His eyes glinted with amusement, a lethal smirk on his face. “Mr. Knight—” “Miss Anderson,” he interrupted, “I don’t allow smoking.” His breath mingled with mine, leaving my mouth dry. “I don’t…” I started, but he leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “I don’t tolerate lies.” The warning in his tone made me swallow my words. I nodded. “Good girl.” He moved closer, his eyes locking with mine. If I could have melted into the wall, I would have. He placed a hand above my head, his gaze swallowing me whole. His lips hovered near mine, and a current surged through my veins. I curled my fists behind me, every part of me fighting the pull to lean into him. “Now, tell me how you’re going to make up for it,” he said. “Make up to you?” My voice sounded breathless, betraying me. My gaze flickered to his lips, then down to his chest. “Hmm… You’ll have to do something.” His voice dipped lower, his breath brushing against my lips, sending a shiver through me. “What do you want?” I whispered. “My name.” “What?” “I want you to say my name.” He tilted my chin upward, making me meet his gaze. “I don’t think…” My breath hitched as his thumb traced my lower lip. His focus was fixed there, and I couldn’t look away. “Mila, do you want to test my patience?” His voice was a dangerous mix of desire and warning. My heart pounded, and the conflict within me tightened like a vice. The ache between my thighs wasn’t fear—it was something else entirely. “Killian,” I whispered. As his name left my lips, his pupils dilated, and his lips parted. I moved closer, one hand sliding against his chest. I felt the heat of his skin, the faint beat of his heart. My own pulse quickened. No. The logical part of my mind broke through. I pushed him away and bolted before I lost every shred of self-control. I rushed to my room, locking the door behind me. Leaning against it, I took deep breaths—once, twice, three times—but the memory of him lingered, his presence still wrapped around me. My heart thundered in my chest. I can’t let him get so close again. Why was he doing this? What was he playing at? ----- I know for one, I wouldn’t mind having a day like this again. It was all so… peaceful. Even though the air is always thick and stale in Anderson Mansion, here, it felt different. I took a deep breath as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, hanging high on the horizon—a rare sight in this part of the country. But in September, at least, you can still get days like this. They don’t last long, though. A crab was slowly making its way across the sand, and my gaze shifted to Nicolai, standing a few feet away, diligently applying sun protection. I smiled to myself. I wouldn’t have a chance like this again. I was careful. After about five minutes, it happened. “AAHHHHHHH!” Nicolai screamed, clutching his shoulder where he’d found the crab. I bit back my laugh, quickly glanced around, and before anyone could notice me, I bolted in the opposite direction, glancing over my shoulder as I ran. But in my haste, I tripped. I never hit the ground. Strong arms caught me, their grip firm yet oddly gentle. The scent hit me first, followed by a familiar tug deep in my stomach—a magnetic pull I couldn’t resist. I looked up and met his eyes. “Do you make a habit of making someone suffer and then running away?” His voice was low, his dark gaze piercing. It felt as though every part of me was being uncovered, little by little, under his scrutiny. Nicolai’s approaching footsteps broke the spell. I immediately stepped back, tearing my gaze away from him. My eyes darted around, ensuring no one saw us. If anyone noticed the way he looked at me, so boldly, it wouldn’t end well for me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, heat rushing to my cheeks. It was nearly impossible to ignore him. Wherever I went, he was there—unshakable. As the day come to an end, Franny found a small souvenir shop she wanted to explore. She dragged me along, excitement lighting up her face. I humored her, watching as she wandered deep into the shop, disappearing behind shelves filled with trinkets. Left to my own devices, I busied myself examining pendants on display. The door opened behind me, and I heard someone walk in. The footsteps grew closer, but I didn’t turn to look. “Mila,” Franny’s voice called, breaking my focus. She stood at the far end of the counter, holding a pair of earrings in her hands. I nodded, offering her a smile. “They look good.” “Are you getting something?” she asked. “I’m still looking,” I replied, my eyes drifting to a display of anklets hanging nearby. Franny disappeared back into the shop, leaving me surrounded by rows of tiny, delicate items. The place smelled faintly of nail polish and metal. I sensed someone behind me before I saw them. My posture straightened instinctively, and before I could turn, a hand appeared, resting firmly on the counter beside mine.Killian gave a sigh and rested his head on my shoulder."What terrible timing."I couldn’t do anything but pat his shoulder and try not to laugh at his reaction."I know you want to laugh," he raised his head and looked at me with narrowed eyes."You always get your way, baby."I rolled my eyes. "Ill-timing is the only thing that can stop you." I snorted and tried to free myself from his hold, but he held on tighter. I looked at him."This is serious, we need to see—""What did you just call me?" His eyes were sparkling. Was it just me, or were his eyes getting brighter by the day?"What?" I started to think back over my words. And then—yes, I had called him *baby*. The realization made me cringe. I cleared my throat, shook my head, and removed his hands from around me."We need to concentrate. Move," I said, and he let go of me with a low chuckle.I stood up, walked around him, and quickly exited the room.I sat in the chair and gave one
The Knights' Headquarters was truly a world of its own.Last time I’d been here, I didn’t have the right mindset to take it all in. But now, as I walked past the training areas and medical bays, I noticed the physical data storage vault—an old-school mechanism, surprisingly well-maintained. Beyond that, a long hall opened up into what could only be described as the heart of the cyber division.The moment I stepped in, the sound hit me—the familiar staccato rhythm of keyboards, multiplied by the dozens. Some agents were murmuring into phones, others huddled around glowing monitors in pairs or small groups, their faces lit by shifting code and surveillance feeds.The second Killian and I entered, everything stopped.Silence spread like wildfire, and every head turned to us. But Killian didn’t flinch. With his hand gently pressing against the small of my back, he guided me toward a cabin tucked away in the far-left corner. He knocked once before pushing the door open.
He didn’t stop there. It was as if madness had taken over us again. He took me against the ground in front of the fireplace. Again on the armchair, while I was on top of him, and again against the wall. By the time we finished our fifth round, I was swollen and aching, bone-tired, sprawled over him. He had laid a blanket beside the fireplace, and we lay down together. "I love you," he murmured against my hair, brushing his hand up and down my back in a soothing motion as I lay over him. "You have to stop saying it. Saying it once is enough." "Why do I get the feeling you don't believe me when I say it?" I lifted my chin to rest on his chest and looked at him. "I do," I said. But he didn’t look like he believed it. "I don't still understand why your feelings for me are so intense, but I know you're telling the truth. I just can’t..." I took a deep breath, "accept it. I heard it before from someone, and it did
My father shouldn’t have done one thing—and that was threaten me directly, trying to plant discord in the name of Killian. He still thinks he’s dealing with the naive Mila, who only grew a backbone because of a man. He couldn’t be more wrong. His worst mistake was assuming that just because I am his flesh and blood, he knows anything about me. I could feel every eye on me as I agreed with Tommen Anderson. Killian’s dark, fiery gaze was ready to burn me as the call was cut. I got a vague idea of his location—he was near the Anderson Mansion. "Is he really this sloppy or just blind in desperation?" I wondered, stepping aside so the screen was visible to the six men who had come with Killian. Behind me, Eva and the others stood as well. "This is the location the call was traced to," Killian said, handing it to one of the men. "Go scout the place thoroughly." The men disappeared the moment he commanded, and I turned to see we were left
The man's hands stretched out toward me. With a quick reflex, I ducked beneath his arms, keeping my eyes fixed on the exit. He turned swiftly to grab me again, but before he could reach me, someone skidded beside me, placing herself between us. It took a second to register—it was Eva. Before I could blink, she struck. First, his arm. Then, his thigh. A sharp grunt of pain escaped him. I heard a sickening crack. The man dropped to his knees—another brutal crack followed—and then he collapsed, unmoving. Eva straightened her denim jacket, ran her fingers through her hair, and turned to face me. "Are you alright? Did he touch you?" she asked, placing a hand on my shoulder as her eyes scanned me from head to toe. I nodded, trying to piece my thoughts together. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” But as I looked down at the man twice her size, the truth hit me. He wasn’t unconscious. His neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, his eyes blank. He was d
Killian pulled away, turning his back to me. Taking the tank top that had fallen on the side of the bed and his shorts, he quickly dressed as he said, “Maybe he did it for fun,” a cold humor in his voice. I pulled the sheets up to my chest. “My parents didn’t want me to enter this life,” he began. “I had never met my grandfather. We were on a private island, living a quiet life,” there was a look on his face—something between a memory and wistfulness. “I knew who my parents were, but I was miles away from this world.” He finally looked at me. “And one day, one of their enemies caught up to us. We were taken off the island, onto a private yacht. He tortured us, killed them in front of me, and was about to kill me… but my grandfather found us. That was the first time I met him.” “How old were you?” I asked. “Thirteen. Two years later, after my grandfather found the man who did it, it was I who sliced his throat.” I didn’t know what to say. A p