Se connecter-Asaraiah Montova-
I knew he was gone before I opened my eyes. The shed was empty. Cold. Silent There was no warmth from his body near mine, no shadow moving in the corners, no quiet breaths like the ones I had memorized the night before He was just... gone. I didn’t even know his name. And I let him kiss me. I let him see my—no, I was only showing him my scars. That’s all. Nothing more. Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed outside. I jolted up Was it him? Did he come back? The door slammed open. A blur of a maid’s uniform flashed in before the face revealed itself. “Afsana.” Her cheeks were flushed, hair sticking to her temples from sweat. “My lady—Asa—you have to return home now. The Montovas are back, and it's only minutes before they start searching for you.” Panic struck me like a whip. I was strong enough to run now. Afsana and I bolted through the back entrance, slipping through the servant halls and the kitchen corridors. I took a breath at the threshold, steeling myself. And then I stepped out. The main room hit me like a punch. It was too bright, too pristine, like nothing had ever happened. The mirror was replaced. Same position. Same weapon, waiting again. “Welcome, Father. Brothers. Sisters.” My voice was low. So was my head. “There she is,” my elder brother sneered, tilting my chin up with the edge of his gold hand fan. His eyes were calm. His Armani suit is crisp. I never got to wear Armani. Not even a dupe. Not even a hand-me-down. “Where were you?” he asked. “I was assisting the maids in the kitchen to prepare your dinner. I lost track of time.” One of my sisters scoffed. “Wow, are you trying to poison us now?” “I would never do such a thing.” “You had better not.” Then he handed me an envelope. My hands trembled as I broke the seal . You are cordially invited to the wedding of Asaraiah Montova and Derek Saunders. Wait. Derek Saunders. I had seen that name before…when I was filing Father’s documents. A seventy-year-old man. He owned seven drug rings. He trafficked women. A monster in human skin. “No,” I breathed. “Look at her,” my sister hissed. “She’s excited to leave us. To open her bastard legs.” I snapped . “No. I do not want to—” SLAM. The hand fan cracked across my skull. Blades cut into my neck. Blood trickled down my collar . I crumpled to the floor. Louboutins. My sister’s heel crushed down on my fingers. Bone scraped bone. “Ungrateful slut. Didn’t you always want what belonged to me? Now I don’t want this engagement, and you have the audacity to say no?” Her knee met my jaw. My teeth rattled. Blood pooled in my mouth. Pain returned like an old friend. The wounds from the last beating tore open. My blood stained their perfect white tile. “Ew. She’s leaking again. Get this trash out of here,” my other sister gagged. “Go and reflect on your stupidity and ungratefulness.” They didn’t expect it. The way my limbs twitched. The way my feet moved before my mind could. I ran. Through the halls. Past the guards. Out the gates. Into the woods. The shed. My lungs burned. My vision blurred. The air smelled like smoke and secrets and him. I slammed the door shut behind me and dropped to the floor. The mattress still bore his shape. Still stained with blood. My blood joined it now. My fingers fumbled, ripping off the fresh bandages. Afsana couldn’t help me today. She was in the kitchen. I couldn’t drag her into this. I pressed my palm to the mattress, feeling the ghost of his warmth . Tears burned. Maybe it was better to be sold. Better to die than marry that man. And then…I heard it. Engines. Footsteps. Voices. No. No no no— Did my brothers find this place? Please, no. My breath hitched. The air shifted. The door creaked open. And my eyes connected with the gold rimmed ones. Him. Dressed in black, a tailored suit hugging his broad frame, the collar crisp, his hair swept back like a god descending from war. Behind him stood men. Silent, deadly, in matching uniforms, holding weapons. He looked like a mafia. He stepped into the shed like he owned it. Like he owned me. “What the hell are you doing–what happened to you?” he asked, his voice flat, dangerous. I couldn’t breathe. “I—,” I choked out but my lips were red with my blood. “What are you doing here? I thought you left. I thought—” He raised a hand. Silenced me with one look. His golden-ringed eyes narrowed. “I was cleaning up loose ends,” he muttered. “Can’t have enemies knowing I even breathed here.” He knelt beside me. Close. Too close. “You’re a mess.” He muttered. He looked away. Almost guilty. Almost. “This mess saved your life ,”I said, clutching the wound on my neck.. “You said you owed me one.” His jaw clenched harder. He turned to his men. “Clear it.” They moved like shadows. Burning old rags. Erasing traces. Wiping memories. Muttering codes into headsets. I grabbed his arm. He froze. “I know my wish,” I said. He looked at me fully now. Eyes glowing. Dangerous. Curious. I didn’t know his name. Still didn’t. But maybe the devil I’d kissed was better than the devil my father chose. “Take responsibility for me. Marry me.” The room seemed to stop. He blinked. His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. Not cruel, not mocking—interested. Like I had just given him something worth tasting. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Ruby," he said. “I know enough,” I replied, steady now. “You’re not seventy. You don’t smell like rot. And I won’t be a burden.” He laughed. Once. Dark and low. He brushed his knuckles beneath my chin. Then leaned in. His lips found mine again. This time tasting blood. “Then pack your things, my little bride.” My breath hitched. “You’re mine now.”-ASARAIAH KAINE-The night smelled like metal.The kind of night where bad things didn’t just happen—they waited, patient as predators, watching the world breathe just so they could steal the next inhale.We were halfway back to the mansion when the pain hit me.Not soft. Not warning.A blade-to-the-nerve, lightning-to-bone kind of pain that made my vision pulse white.“Malrik—” I managed before the world blurred sideways.He was on me before I hit the ground.His hands were everywhere—my ribs, my face, my chest—as if checking which part of me was breaking fastest.“Stay awake,” he ordered.His voice was steady.His eyes were not.Everything in him was unraveling.I tried to breathe but my lungs snagged like someone had stitched glass inside them. My hands shook uncontrollably. My skin burned from the inside out.“What’s happening to me?” I gasped.He didn’t answer immediately.And that terrified me more than the pain.When Malrik Kaine didn’t speak, something ancient and lethal was h
-ASARAIAH KAINE- The day started with champagne and ended with blood. That should’ve been my first warning. By noon, half the Kaine lieutenants were already in the mansion for a private council meeting — one Malrik had insisted I attend because “your enemies need to see what their nightmares look like standing.” Flattering. Cute. Unhinged. But I showed up anyway. I wore black silk. Hair slicked back. A gun holstered to my thigh. The ruby pendant resting on my collarbone like it had rules of its own. When I stepped into the glass-walled council chamber, every man in the room stood — some out of respect, some out of fear, most out of confusion that a woman was walking into their private war table looking like she owned every bullet in the building. Malrik didn’t look up at first. He didn’t have to. His awareness snapped to me the second my foot crossed the threshold. His gaze dragged across my body in one slow sweep like he was checking for wounds, weapons, or lies. His head t
-ASARAIAH KAINE-Rain in this city always smells like money that’s been cleaned in blood.Tonight, it smelled like war.We hit the south docks just past midnight. Six SUVs, tinted black, moving as one organism. Malrik had wanted to come; I told him no. He’d taught me to fight monsters. Now he could watch one work.Kavin sat shotgun, checking his tablet. “Last ping from the insider came from Warehouse 22.”“That’s Selene’s old territory,” I said.He nodded. “Her people rebranded as Glass. Imports, clubs, laundering. Same core, new skin.”“Cut the skin,” I said, “it still bleeds the same.”We rolled in silent.The compound looked abandoned—graffiti, broken lights, wind slicing through busted glass. But the hum under it wasn’t emptiness; it was waiting.“Two guards by the main door,” Kavin whispered.“I’ll take them.”He almost protested. Almost.I was already out.Boots quiet on wet concrete, gun drawn. The guards barely had time to exhale before the silencer kissed the back of t
-ASARAIAH-The world smelled like smoke and new power.Every empire starts with a fire; ours started with my father’s.The Kaine mansion was quiet when we landed, but not peaceful—never peaceful. The air here always hummed, like electricity trapped in marble.Afsana met us at the door with a towel and a look that said she knew better than to ask. Gaya lingered behind her, eyes on the blood drying on my sleeve.“Everything handled?” she asked.“Everything burned,” I said.Gaya nodded once, approval hidden behind restraint. “Then start rebuilding.”The table glowed with blue light from the screens. The Montova crest was already being erased from the ledgers, replaced by the Kaine insignia. I sat beside Malrik, not behind him.He didn’t stop me.Kavin briefed us on the acquisitions. “We’ve absorbed their offshore routes, but a few shell accounts are still under protection. You’ll need signatures from the old board.”“Bring them in,” I said.Kavin blinked. “You mean—”“I mean now.
-ASARAIAH-I never planned on coming back to Milan.The city smelled like rain and old blood — too polished to remember its crimes.But every storm ends where it started, and mine started here.When Gaya dropped the folder on the table that morning, I already knew what was inside.A photograph. Grainy, recent. My father stepping out of a courthouse, gray-haired but still standing straight, surrounded by cheap muscle.He was supposed to be dead.“Where?” I asked.“Milan,” she said. “He’s rebuilding the Montova network. Drugs, weapons, offshore laundering. A few of our suppliers are already sniffing around him.”So he was clawing his way back, same as always. I’d buried ghosts before; this one needed to burn.“Book the jet,” I said.The Kaine jet waited under thunder-purple clouds. Malrik stood at the stairs, black-on-black, rain rolling off his coat.“You’re not going alone,” he said.“I wasn’t asking permission.”“You never do.”He followed me up the steps anyway.Inside, the c
-ASARAIAH KAINE-The night after the vault, the rain refused to stop.Every drop against the glass sounded like someone knocking to be let in.I didn’t answer.The Kaine mansion was half-lit again—security lights glowing cold blue down the hallways, the hum of generators under the marble like a buried heartbeat. The city below still smoked where our fires had eaten it.I stood barefoot in the corridor, phone in hand, staring at the photo Selene had left on the encrypted line:Yanila’s bracelet.Buried in mud.Coordinates attached.She wanted me to come.And I was going.Gaya caught me at the stairwell.“You think you can just walk out?” she hissed.“I’m not walking,” I said. “I’m ending something.”“You can’t go alone. Malrik—”“Malrik’s planning another massacre. Let him.”Her hand clamped my wrist. “You can’t keep saving him by destroying yourself.”“I’m not saving him,” I said. “I’m proving I don’t need him.”That shut her up.The coordinates led to the industrial quarter—abandoned







