Chapter Five

The kitchen went deathly silent. The sound of Camille’s heels, the hum of the refrigerator, even Fabian’s teasing energy, all of it seemed to vanish the instant that deep voice cut through the air.

Aaira turned slowly. Standing in the doorway was Keiran himself. Jude was the one who stopped whatever madness Camille was about portraying.

His suit jacket was gone, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie hung loose around his neck, and a faint smear of blood stained one cuff, leftover from the warehouse chaos he’d just left behind. His eyes were hard, but there was something else flickering behind them, a storm only he knew.

He crossed the tiled floor with measured steps, each one echoing against the marble. The room seemed to shrink as he approached. He didn’t look at Camille at first. His gaze went straight to Aaira, then to the raised hand still caught mid-air.

“Lower it,” he said, voice low but carrying enough force to make Camille’s friends retreat a step.

Camille snatched her wrist free and stepped back, but she tried to recover her composure. “Keiran, I was just…”

“Insulting my niece.” His eyes flicked to her, cold and sharp. “Get out.”

Her mouth opened to protest, but one look at his face shut her up. She nodded stiffly and turned on her heel, heels clicking faster now as she and her friends hurried out of the kitchen without another word.

Only when the door swung shut did Keiran finally let his eyes rest on Aaira. They softened, just slightly.

Aaira’s pulse thudded in her ears. She didn’t know whether to thank him or shrink away. She straightened instead, because something in her told her he didn’t want weakness.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” she said quietly.

Keiran’s jaw flexed. He reached for a napkin from the table, wiped the blood from his cuff and said, “You didn’t. Some people just don’t know their place.” Without another word, he turned around and walked out of the kitchen, Jude on his heel.

Fabian let out a low whistle. “Holy fuck, girl. You do have a little bit of fire in you.”

“I might be sheltered but I'm not a pushover.”

Zora let out a smile. She just might survive yet

~~~

UNKNOWN PLACE

Carlos ran into the large warehouse and headed straight for his boss's office. The room was dimly lit, hiding the man in the shadows, a stick of tobacco in his hands.

“She's currently at his place, Boss,” he reported. “He took her in yesterday.”

A low chuckle escaped the man's lips. “So Hugo and Keiran think they can play a fast one on me. Interesting, I should say.”

“Should I have her captured and brought here?” Carlos asked, bowing his head lower.

“That won't be necessary, Carlos. Aaira is mine and I'll have her when the time is right. For now let's deal with Keiran, and finding Hugo “

Carlos turned around and left to do as told.

The man took out a photo of a younger version of Aaira “Don't worry, Aaira,” he murmured, stroking the photo with his finger. “Soon, I'll get you. When that happens, your uncle won't know what hit him.”

~~~

Aaira stepped out of her bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. Zora sat on the bed, a large box beside her.

“Guess what just arrived,” she squealed.

“I don't know,” Aaira shrugged. She sat before her mirror and proceeded to dry her hair with a blow dryer.

*Well, your uniforms are finally here!”

Uniforms? Her face twisted in confusion. She had never put on a school uniform before.

“Don't they wear normal clothes?” She inquired.

“Of course, they do. The uniforms are not compulsory for non scholars,” Zora explained opening the box.

Aaira turned to reply, but the words got stuck in her throat. Standing by the door was Keiran, shirtless, hair wet and a towel around his neck. Zora followed her gaze and stood up.

“I’ll just go check on a few things in the kitchen.” Zora’s eyes darted between them before she slipped out, closing the door softly behind her.

The room went very still. Only the faint hum of Aaira’s hairdryer filled the space before she shut it off, hands suddenly clammy around it.

Keiran didn’t move from the doorway. Droplets of water clung to his collarbones; the towel around his neck did little to hide the shape of his shoulders. His gaze flicked to the open box on the bed, then back to her.

“Put it on,” he said quietly.

Aaira swallowed. “The uniform?”

He nodded once. “I want to see how it fits.”

She hesitated, glancing at the closed door. “Here?”

“Here.” His voice was calm, but there was a weight to it that made her fingers obey before her mind caught up.

She scooped the uniform from the box and disappeared behind the folding screen. Her pulse hammered in her ears as she unwrapped the crisp shirt and skirt, tugging them on over her skin. When she finally stepped out, she felt exposed in a way she hadn’t expected.

Keiran was at a loss for words. The white shirt was fitted, bringing out the shape of her huge tits, the purple pleated skirt hung a little lower than her butt and brushed her thighs each time she moved.

How could a uniform make her look so sexy?

“Do you…think it's okay?” She drifted her gaze to the mirror, toying nervously with her fingers.

He walked towards her with slow, deliberate steps. She countered each of his steps with one backwards till she hit the bathroom door. She kept her gaze on the ground.

“What did I say rule number one was?” His voice came out deep and filled with desire rather than stern as he intended.

She slowly raised her head and locked eyes with him. The intensity behind his eyes made her shiver. He placed one hand on the door and the other secured her waist. He leaned in, so close their lips almost touched.

“M…mother said you shouldn't go this close to someone who is not your husband.” Her voice came out in a low, soft whisper that went directly to his cock.

He traced his lips down her jawline to her neck, then up to her earlobe. A gasp left her lips when he softly bit on it. “Did she say that?” He whispered in her ears.

She lifted her trembling hands to his chest, in an attempt to push him away but he didn't budge. “I think it's time for your first lesson.”

“What's that…”

He cut her off with his lips on hers, swallowing whatever else she had to say. The kiss wasn't slow or gentle. It was rough and demanding.

He feasted on her lips, her ignorance on what to do letting him take the lead. He buried a hand in her hair and pulled her closer.

By the time he pulled away, she was breathing hard and her lips were bruised.

“First lesson.”

She scoffed. “How to kiss my uncle?”

“You know,” he tilted his head. “You are a little sassy for your own good.”

“You didn't expect me to thank you for taking my first kiss, did you?” She pushed him and this time he stepped back.

“Watch your tone with me or I'll punish you in a way no uncle would.”