Chapter 3

Chapter 3

KYOMI POV

Betrayal. Defeat. Pure terror. The whirlwind of emotions and uncertainty was spiraling inside of me, hitting all corners of my soul like a raging tornado, dizzying me.

Blindfolded and tugged in the backseat of an undoubtedly luxurious car, my nose flared at the assault of rich leather, expensive smoke, and a hint of that custom cologne that seemed to lie to my subconscious: whispering hope and light when my conscious felt the impending doom.

My mind drifted to the darkest of thoughts that had managed to infest inside of me.

My life flashed before my eyes as the promise of death descended heavily on my shoulders. I remembered the times I used to cuddle my brother when he caught a fever, the times we used to curl up in front of the fireplace at our parents’ house, reminiscing of all the good times that were long gone, swallowed and buried beneath the dark cloud of time.

A lone tear drizzled down my cheek when I remembered Kaizen’s soft voice when he told me he would move mountains for me.

Where did I wrong Kaizen so bad that he would do this to me? And all my life I deluded myself into thinking that it was the two of us against the world. How wrong I’d been.

The door to my side was yanked open, pushing a gust of cold wind into the interior. I shivered, not from the cold breeze alone, but from the heavy presence that instantly blurred mine into painful nothingness. The car moved a bit under the heavy weight as HE sat by my side, the door closing with a soft thud.

The custom cologne filled the entire space before that voice that sounded like a thousand thunderclaps resonated; commanding.

“Are you sure you want to take her to the base, sir?” My heart lunged into my throat, my lungs burned with the breath I held as my ears caught onto my fate being decided.

“And where would I take her? Her house?”

“She saw nothing. I don’t think she can identify us.” The rough voice called from the front seat. I swallowed hard, praying that this devil incarnate would have a heart and believe his subordinate.

I was compelled to plead my case, kneel and beg; and tell them that I had zero intention of going to the police or even uttering to a single soul about what happened. As long as they’d let me and my brother go.

But all of that was shot straight to hell when the boss responded in a chilling calm.

“Too risky.”

Two words and my fate was decided.

The engine was kicked alive, and the car got into motion. Being deprived of my sense of sight made the entire ride nauseating. The conversation sparked, the men in the car switching between English and Italian. I tried to grab on the few strands of their conversation, tried to make out where they could possibly be taking me to; but the rapid thump thump of my heart and the blood roaring in my ears made it utterly and fucking impossible.

I was vaguely aware of my defenselessness, and how I might just be another addition to the stats of women who disappeared into the thin air; swallowed by the dark of the night never to be seen. Forever.

And curse me, but I was of no importance. No one would organize people to chant down the streets with portraits of me hanging up in the sky, no one would demand justice for the poor girl who was sold by her own flesh and blood.

I would lie and say Old Tommy would find justice for me, but he was just as horrible as the man who sold me to unknown men in black.

And now; he was dead.

The finality of my situation suffocated me, clawed at my lungs, and squeezed all the air out of me. It was clear that after tonight, Kyomi King would be wiped off the surface of the earth.

That wrenched a tiny sob from me. I hated it. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to appear weak in front of these men.

But what did a small meek woman in her work apron have against 7 armed men in black?

The odds were just so stacked against me that it wasn’t even funny. Say I tried to escape, threw myself in the middle of the road. My fate would be to be run over by the car on the other side, or be shot right in the back of my head I would die in the spot.

I swallowed the tears down the big lump in my throat, then released a shaky breath. The entire car space was now filled with golden silence, only my sobs to fill in the cracks.

I hated even the mere fact that I was the center of attention.

The drive seemed to stretch longer, and agitation, fear, and uncertainty made it even worse. But judging by the time we took from the pub, we were well on the outskirts of the city. The realization only heightened my fear.

But after what seemed like forever, the car slowed down before the driver’s window was rolled down. The creaking sound followed and I could only map out phantom images inside my mind. I pictured what could be the entrance of a giant hotel. But that thought was disintegrated when the car drove for what felt like half an hour, and the density of my situation forced my gut to clench.

The hope of ever escaping felt even more far-fetched than ever before.

A few minutes later it came to a complete stop, and the entity beside me exited the car. Everyone else did, leaving me there. And I prayed to all saints that they could just forget they brought a humanoid sack of potatoes along and go about with their businesses.

But my little prayer was shot straight to hell because the door on my side was yanked open before I was literally dragged out of the car.

A whimper rolled out of me, as I stilled myself for whatever came next, refusing to dwell in the musings of my mind because it didn’t make this any better.

Instead, my thoughts were darker, inhuman, and they scared the shit out of me.

A strong hand held me by my arm, and good lord, the fingers literally wrapped around the circumference of my entire arm. I felt so tiny. So small and violated.

I was guided up the stairs, and into a building. I couldn’t fucking tell what kind of building. It smelled so clean, so sterile. And I made a whiff of freshly baked cakes not far from where we were.

A strong hand held my arm in an iron grip and guided me up another staircase. Pain lasered through my system from my toe when I hit the marble step with my toe, the pain almost sending me down.

The hand yanked me back and roughly, depositing me into a hard wall of muscles.

Strong arms wrapped around my torso, and a gentle hand landed on the back of my head, cradling me against the scorching hot chest.

A few Italian words rang along before the arms left me, and then I was levitating. My mind registered a second too late that he had picked me up in that fairytale princess carry. My lungs got sucked up, and the arms around me held me tighter.

I was stuck between being scared shitless and being comforted by the silent presence of the stranger who seemed to be far more gentle than the men I had seen.

Or was I delivered to a different one?

But no! The voice and that damn cologne. The bloody way his presence seemed to dissolve mine into nothingness. It was all clear who it was. And I knew if I tore the tie from my eyes, I would find those storm-grey orbs staring down at me, punishing me without much of a word.

His lean yet strong build was the one that gave him out. He looked so deadly under the dim lights of the backroom back at the pub.

But the man who was holding me was far more human. Even the rapid, yet steady thump thump thump of his heart was solid proof of his liveliness.

My mind almost grew placid against him as he continued tethering me between gentleness and roughness. His handle was rough enough to let me know he could hurt me if I tried anything funny, yet so gentle that it translated into his intentions of not harming me in any way as long as I remained in check!

And in check, I remained.

But the transition between rough and softness was nauseating. I knew it in my core that this man was going to hurt me; to carve the debt of my brother right from my blood. So I fought so hard not to be deluded by his softness.

But how could I not, when he was a fusion of angels and demons all wrapped in one bundle of perfection?