Chapter Two

It had been almost seventeen years since she last saw her uncle, as such she didn't know what to expect. But she didn't expect this.

Muscular skin stretched across a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing his tattooed arms. He was handsome with that dangerous edge. Messy dark hair, striking blue eyes that seemed to see into her soul and a sharp jawline.

Aaira’s legs felt like lead as she stepped further into the office, her hands gripping the straps of her suitcase so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The room was impossibly large, lined with dark wood panels, shelves of books, and artifacts that seemed to watch her with silent judgment. A faint glow from a single lamp cast long shadows across the polished floor, making the room feel both grand and threatening.

Keiran didn’t rise from his chair. He didn’t move a muscle except to set down the glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light. His dark eyes lifted slowly, studying her from the corner of his office. The way he looked at her made her chest tighten, her stomach flutter nervously.

Aaira’s voice caught in her throat. She swallowed hard and tried again. “H…hello… Uncle Keiran,” she whispered, barely audible, her eyes fixed on the floor.

He let his gaze linger, slow and deliberate, tracing the curve of her shoulders, the way she hugged herself as if trying to shrink further into her own skin. He leaned back slightly, one arm resting casually on the desk, the other drumming lightly against the polished wood. His expression was calm, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips hinted at amusement, or perhaps calculation.

“You’re smaller than I expected,” he said smoothly, his voice low and deliberate. “And far… more fragile.”

Aaira’s cheeks burned, and she pressed the locket her mother had given her against her chest, as if it could protect her from the intensity of his stare. “I… I’ve never… been away from home,” she admitted softly, words coming out in stuttering fragments.

Keiran’s eyes didn’t waver. “No?” he said, leaning slightly forward in his chair, the faint scent of whiskey and something sharper, cologne, perhaps, or danger, wafting toward her. “And yet… here you are. Alone.”

Her pulse spiked, and she felt frozen, unsure whether to step forward or flee. Her stomach twisted into knots as her mind raced with every warning she had ever heard about him, about this world.

Keiran finally stood, stretching just enough to show his height and power without moving too close. His shadow fell over her, and Aaira instinctively took a small step back. “Don’t be afraid,” he said lightly, almost casual, though his dark eyes never left hers. “I won’t hurt you… not unless you give me reason.”

Aaira nodded quickly, though it felt meaningless. Her body refused to relax, her instincts screaming at her that she had entered a place she wasn’t prepared for.

“Come,” he said, gesturing toward the door. “I’ll show you to your room. You’ll need rest after your journey. Tomorrow, we’ll lay down the rules you must follow.”

She swallowed hard, unsure if she was trembling from fear or the dizzying uncertainty of being in his presence. The corridors were silent as they walked, shadows stretching along the walls, servants passing by with bowed heads, eyes lowered. Every step seemed heavier than the last, every sound amplified in the quiet of the house.

When they finally reached the room assigned to her, Keiran paused at the doorway. The door was slightly ajar, and the room beyond was dimly lit, simple yet elegant.

“You’ll stay here tonight,” he said, his voice calm, commanding, and impossible to ignore. “Lock the door, take a shower and go to bed.”

Aaira nodded, barely able to speak. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the lock, the weight of the unknown pressing down on her.

“T…t …thank you, uncle.”

Keiran let out a dark chuckle, one which made her skin crawl. He took slow yet deliberate steps towards her. Every instinct in her body screamed to run, to do anything which would put some distance between them. But her feet refused to move,

He kept moving till he was standing directly before her, with no distance between them. He brought his lips to her ears and his manly cologne flooded her nostrils.

She had never been this close to any man before. She had no idea why she felt a tingling sensation in her body, or what to do about it.

His hand came down to her waist and pulled her closer.

“Can't even speak to me without stuttering. How would you even survive this world, Mia Angeles?” His breath fanned her ear, and his lips brushed against her earlobe with each word.

Before she could react, he stepped back,a smirk curved on his lips.

Keiran’s eyes swept over her one last time, slow, calculating. “Sleep well… Aaira,” he said, voice carrying a subtle warning beneath its smooth surface. “Tomorrow, your life changes.”

He turned around and walked out of the room. A shiver ran down her spine, the kind that told her this was only the beginning, and that everything she thought she knew about the world, about safety, was gone.

She pressed her hands to her chest, clutching her mother’s locket, as if the tiny silver piece could shield her from the weight of this house. The room was quiet, almost too quiet. O

Through the walls, she could hear the faint shuffle of feet and murmured voices.

It had to be coming from the next room. Curiosity and fear made her press her ear to the wall to listen. Voices floated through the thin walls, soft but clear enough for her to hear.

“She’s here,” one voice said, tinged with disbelief.

“Did you see her?” another whispered. “She’s… so small, so delicate. I don’t think she’ll last long in this house.”

Aaira’s stomach knotted. They were talking about her. Of course she was fragile. She had known nothing but safety and comfort all her life.

“She looks like a porcelain doll,” the first voice said again. “The boss will spoil her, or break her. I’m not sure which.”

A third voice chimed in, low and wary. “Shh! Keep it down. You don’t want him to hear. You know how he feels about gossip. But yes… I agree. She doesn’t belong here.”

Aaira’s heart pounded, a mix of fear and shame twisting inside her. She pressed herself against the wall, trying to shrink, wishing she could disappear.

Her mind raced. Could she really survive here? The servants’ whispers painted a picture of a world she had only imagined in nightmares, one full of expectations, danger, and power she had no part in.

~~~

Keiran leaned back in his office chair, swirling the amber whiskey in his hand. Jude, his right-hand man, leaned casually against the edge of the desk, arms crossed.

“The shipment arrives next week,” Keiran said finally, voice calm and controlled. “I want everything checked twice. No mistakes. Last time mistakes cost us more than money.”

Jude nodded, a faint smirk on his lips. “Understood. The men are ready. But if anyone’s going to slip up, it won’t be unnoticed. You know how they are.”

Keiran’s sharp eyes cut to him. “Exactly. And that’s why I don’t tolerate mistakes.” He drained the last of his whiskey and set the glass down with deliberate force. “Keep it tight, Jude. One wrong move, and it’s not just business that suffers. We have been losing a lot of men lately. ”

Jude nodded understandingly. Then, after a pause, his tone shifted. “Speaking of things under control, have you thought about your niece?”

Keiran’s head tilted, the faintest crease forming between his brows. “My niece?” His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, curiosity, caution, and something darker that Jude didn’t miss.

“Yes,” Jude said smoothly, leaning closer. “Aaira. She’s… delicate. Too delicate for this world, if you ask me.”

Keiran’s gaze darkened, and he didn’t answer immediately. His fingers drummed against the desk, slow and deliberate. “Fragile doesn’t mean useless,” he said finally. His voice carried a quiet weight that made Jude pause. “But she’s young. Too young to understand what she’s walked into.”

Jude shrugged, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “That’s what I’m saying. She’s not meant for this house, or for what you do. She’s soft, Keiran. She’ll be swallowed whole if she doesn’t learn fast.”

Keiran’s eyes flicked back to the glass in front of him, swirling the amber liquid as if the movement calmed something restless inside. “Soft,” he repeated, almost to himself. “Yes… maybe. But soft things break differently.”

Jude’s smirk faded slightly. He knew when Keiran spoke like that, it wasn’t idle thought. There was a calculation behind it, a plan forming. “You’re thinking too much about her,” Jude said cautiously.

“Of course I am. Her father brings her up like a sheep then throws her to the wolves. I don't even know what Hugo was thinking.”

“But you accepted to take her in despite knowing her upbringing,” Jude pointed out.

Keiran nods, slowly. “Hugo's got his hands in messy places. He doesn't want his daughter caught in the middle. Can't deny such a favor, not when I owe my life to him.”

But even as he spoke to Jude, his mind drifted back to the way she froze when he got close to her, how she smelled of vanilla and baby powder -so innocent - and how perfect she fit in his arms. Then, leaning back in his chair, he murmured, almost to himself, “No. She’s mine… in more ways than she realizes. And in time, I'll make her understand the rules of this world.