Chapter 10: Hatred

Kael’s POV

I had just stepped out of the car after wrapping up a lucrative investor’s meeting. The numbers were good. The future looked promising. And for a brief second, I allowed myself the illusion of peace.

Until I heard violent screaming echoing from inside the mansion.

I immediately picked up my pace and began walking faster down the stone pathway leading to the front door.

One of my guards stood calmly at his post with his hands clasped behind his back like nothing was wrong. That alone confused me.

“What’s happening?” I asked calmly.

The guard didn’t even blink as he answered. “Sir, Miss Amara Lowe is inside. She’s beating her up.”

Her.

He didn’t even need to say her name but I already knew who he meant. But somehow, it worried me.

“Thalia?” I said, not even realizing I had said it out loud.

“Yes, sir,” the guard answered without hesitation.

I didn’t respond. But I was already running.

My steps were thunder across the marble as I burst through the front doors. The shouting was now clearer, and sharper. But then as I turned the corner.

I stopped. And the world stopped with me.

Thalia was lying there on the floor curled up like a discarded rag doll. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, trembling, bleeding. Her skin was pale, slick with sweat and smeared with blood. Her legs were curled protectively, twitching from pain or fear or both. I was used seeing her like that but right now... it didn't feel right to me.

Meanwhile, Nana Marie was crouched over her, shielding her tiny body with her own, crying so hard her shoulders shook.

And Amara was kicking them both.

“What the hell is this?!” My voice tore through the hallway startling everyone into stillness.

Amara froze with her heel lifted mid-swing.

Nana looked up at me with wide, tearful eyes, her voice breaking. “Sir—please… help her. She’s...she’s not breathing right. She—”

I didn’t wait for her to finish.

I quickly rushed forward out of pure panic. I've never beaten her up this much. I only beat her up out of anger and warning and threatening but this brutality looked like amara was intending to have her dead.

“Thalia,” I whispered, as I grabbed her shoulders.

I turned her toward me, forcing her to face me. And the very moment I saw her whole state, my breath was knocked out of my chest.

Her eyes were shut. Her lips were cracked and red with dried blood. Her cheeks were hollowed, her skin clammy. She looked like death had already kissed her and was only waiting to take her the rest of the way.

But her arms were still wrapped tightly around her stomach, even in unconsciousness. As if she was trying to protect herself even just a little bit.

A fresh wave of horror washed over me.

“What did you do?!” I snarled, turning my rage to Amara.

She looked unmoved as her eyes blazed with hatred. “I did what you should’ve done a long time ago,” she spat. “That monster killed my sister. I gave her what she deserved!”

“You have done enough!” I roared, stepping between her and Thalia.

“She should’ve died with Alina!” Amara shrieked, stepping forward to strike me but I caught her wrist midair.

I didn’t flinch.

“Get. Out. Of. My. House.”

“You’re defending her now?” she spat. “After everything? After what she did?!”

“I said get out.”

She struggled, yelling curses I didn’t bother to hear.

It was Nana Marie who finally pulled her away, trembling but firm. “Go, Miss Lowe. You’ve done enough.”

“You’ll regret this, Kael!” Amara screamed as she was dragged down the hall. “You’ll regret the day you took her in!”

But I didn’t respond.

I was already kneeling beside Thalia again, barely aware of the blood on my hands as I touched her face.

Her skin was ice.

I pulled her into my arms, lifting her gently onto my lap. Her head rolled against my shoulder, and my gut clenched.

“Thalia,” I whispered again, brushing back the strands of hair stuck to her bloodied cheek. My fingers trembled as my chest tightened with every second she didn’t respond.

Her lips were parted. But it was as if she wasn't breathing at all.

I couldn't see the rise and fall of her chest. Her lashes didn't flutter open. And there was no sound from her.

“No,” I muttered as my voice began cracking. “No, no… There’s something wrong with her—”

I immediately pressed my palm to her chest.

And realized she really wasn't breathing.

The world tilted beneath me.

She wasn’t breathing.

She wasn’t breathing.

I repeated in my head over and over again that panic burst through my ribs like glass.

“Nana!” I barked, barely recognizing my own voice. “Open the car—now!”

She didn’t ask questions and quickly ran.

And I gathered Thalia into my arms like she was made of glass.

So light.

So weightless.

Her head lolled against my shoulder, and I couldn’t stop staring at her...at the blood on her temple, at the purple bruises blooming down her arms, at the way her hands still clutched instinctively around her stomach as if she were trying to shield a little part of herself.

I stumbled out the door in my desperation.

I looked down at her again, and suddenly, my breath hitched like I was choking on something I’d buried too long.

Something that clawed up from the depths of my chest and wrapped around my throat with cold, accusing fingers.

Is this what I really wanted?

To see her like this?

To see her suffering?

Was this justice?

Did I finally satisfy my revenge?

Have I punished her enough?

Will I be happy… if she...dies?

My knees nearly gave out beneath me as I held her tighter.

Her body was limp. Her skin that was once so warm beneath my touch was fading to a sickly gray, and her lips were beginning to turn a cold shade of blue.

It didn’t feel right anymore.

And somehow, a part of me that used to be her friend...screamed so loud I felt it in my bones.

I remembered her eyes lighting up when she talked about things she loved.

I remembered the sound of her laughter on warm afternoons, the way she used to watch me when she thought I wouldn’t notice.

And now… she lay in my arms.

Cold and unmoving.

I didn’t know if I was too late.

Or if the last thing she ever knew… was my hatred.