CHAPTER 16 : Last Goodbye

Killian's POV

She walked into the ballroom as if she owned the place—shoulders back, chin held high, glowing in a wine-red gown that showcased her every curve. But it wasn’t just the dress. It was her presence. That fierce, unapologetically beautiful of hers, that was completely out of my reach for the first time since the game began.

And then he touched her arm.

Laughter. Soft. Effortless. Hers.

Something important for the first time twisted in my chest. The polished glass of my tumbler creaked in my grip as I watched him lean in. Too close. Too familiar. His hand lingered on her elbow as if he had the right to it.

He didn’t.

But neither did I—not anymore.

The suitor—Julian Crest, he was the son of a media tycoon and he was the newest investor darling— he smirked in my direction as if he already knew where exactly to stab the knife. Emery didn't notice it. She didn’t have to be known. The damage had already been inflicted.

She was smiling for him. Not for me.

When our gazes finally met across the crowded hall, her expression didn't soften. It didn’t flicker with the warmth I once relied on. No, this time it was guarded. Calculated. As if she understood the game I was playing… and had started one of her own.

I excused myself from the conversation I was having with a senator whose name I didn't care to remember and I walked across the marble floor, ignoring greetings, I pushed past executives. And I didn’t stop until I stood right behind her.

She didn’t turn.

“Emery,” I murmured, low enough for only her to hear.

She tensed. “Killian.”

Julian turned towards me, with a false smile. “Wolfe. Didn’t realize you were still in the country. Thought you had passed your crown to Tobias.”

“I don’t pass anything,” I shot back coldly, my gaze fixed on Emery. “Especially not what belongs to me.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not yours.”

There was a pause. Then came another.

Julian raised his eyebrows and quietly stepped away with a murmured excuse.

I waited until we were alone at the corner of the room, near a side door covered in velvet curtains. “What the hell was that?” I asked.

She folded her arms. “A conversation. Something that normal people do in social gatherings.”

“With a man who wants to get between your legs.”

She chuckled, but it was sharp and icy. “Oh, so now you care?”

My blood burned. “I have always cared.”

“No, you have always controlled. There’s a difference.”

I clenched my jaw. “That man is not interested in your intelligence.”

“And you are?” she shot back, stepping closer, fire dancing in her eyes. “Don’t act like you haven’t been distancing yourself. You practically froze me out after everything, and now suddenly you’re acting like the jealous fiancé?”

“I’m not acting at all.” My voice was low, menacing. “I saw what he desired. And I saw how you allowed it.”

Her hand shot out and pushed me in the chest. “You don’t have the right to do that. You don’t get to ignore me for days, then show up and act like I’m yours to control.”

I grasped her wrist—not to harm, just to prevent her from running again. “You want honesty?” I said, my voice raw. “You want the truth, Emery?”

She blinked. Her anger wavered for a bit.

“I distanced myself from you because I couldn't protect you. Not from them. Not from Tobias. Not from myself.”

Her lips parted. But I wasn’t done.

“You think I’ve been controlling? It’s because I knew what men like him wanted. I have been one. I have used people like pieces on a chessboard. But you—God, Emery, you were never meant to matter this much.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she tried to look away.

I pressed her back against the suite wall when we got upstairs, I needed space but I needed her more. “You weren’t part of the plan,” I whispered. “I wanted power. Revenge. Control. But now—”

She shook her head. “You still desire those things.”

“No. I desire you.”

The room spined as we stared at each other's eyes, every electrifying second between us was threatening to explode.

And then she kissed me.

Or perhaps I kissed her.

I don't really know. It was desperate. Rough. All teeth and anger and longing. A silent war turned into a mess of limbs and emotion. When we broke apart, gasping, she touched. Her forehead to mine.

“If I stay, Killian… I need to know this isn’t just a strategy.”

I hesitated.

And she noticed it.

The atmosphere changed. “Tell me this isn’t just another move.”

I stepped back, feeling torn apart. “I made a deal. With the enemy. With Julian’s father. To keep you safe. To remove Tobias from your life.”

Her face turned white like blood drained out of her face.

“I told them that we were over. That you would walk away after the gala. That I had let you go.”

The silence surrounded us, like a dying star.

“So… this,” she murmured, her eyes glistening. “This was goodbye?”

“No,” I choked out. “This was my trying to save you from the price of loving me.”

She shook her head slowly, as if any sudden movement might cause her to fall apart.

Then she turned and walked towards the door.

I didn’t stop her.

Not because I didn’t want to.

But because I was sure if what I want was truly what she deserved anymore.

The door shut behind her with a soft click that echoed louder than a gunshot.

And I stood there, staring at the place she had just occupied, I felt emotions that I had forbidden myself to feel.

I felt helpless.

Not because she walked out. But because I knew—deep down—that I might have just given her the very reason to never return.

I slumped into the nearest chair, my elbows resting on my knees, hands gripped my face as if I could hold myself together by force

But it didn’t work. I couldn't.

I hadn’t wanted it to happen this way. I hadn’t played for her to matter. Emery had been a tool. A mere pawn. A way to knock Tobias off balance and clean up the Sinclair mess. She was meant to be a fleeting presence—a beautiful, broken woman with nothing left to lose.

Yet, she had become one one I couldn't afford to lose.

And now she was gone.

A bitter laugh escaped me, my chest feeling empty. I had weathered hostile takeovers, death threats, and courtrooms filled with ravenous lawyers. Yet, a single woman had brought me to my knees with nothing but a glance of betrayal and a soft farewell.

I should have pursued her.

But I didn’t. Because the reality was more uglier than anything I had uttered: I didn’t know how to love her without shattering her.

I had dedicated a lifetime to carving away at my soul to construct a realm that Tobias couldn’t invade, and somewhere within that empire of blood and steel, I lost touch with my humanity. Emery brought me back. Each gentle laugh, every subtle challenge, every night she nestled beside me as if unaware she was lying next to a man burdened with more secrets than scars.

And now she was aware. She recognized the fractures.

She stepped right through them.

I stood up slowly, moving towards the floor-to-ceiling window that offered a view of the city. The lights blurred as I blinked, the cold glass pressing against my knuckles. From this vantage point, everything appeared orderly. Pristine. Dominant.

But I was coming apart at the seams.

Because the truth—the one I never shared with her, couldn’t share with her—was this:

I struck that deal with Julian’s father not solely to safeguard her.

I did it because they threatened to ruin her. If I hadn’t complied, they would have buried her under a mountain of scandals and lawsuits that even I couldn’t resolve. Her reputation, her career, everything—vanished.

So I gave up the one thing I never meant to lose.

Us.

She believed it was a tactic. A form of manipulation. But the twist was, it was the first choice I made that wasn’t about control. It was for her.

And now she would never trust that.

A knock shook the suite door.

I stayed still.

Another knock—this one more forceful.

“Mr. Wolfe,” Simon’s voice came through, tight with tension. “There’s been activity on Tobias’s side. He’s preparing a press release. They’re going to twist tonight’s event against you and Emery.”

I turned, my jaw tightening.

Of course they would.

Because in this world, love wasn’t an asset.

It was a risk.

And mine had just walked out the door.

I lingered in the depths of my own quietude, long after Simon had left the suite door ajar behind him.

The city outside throbbed with a beat I could no longer keep up with. The glass pressed against my knuckles had warmed from the time I spent there, motionless, observing Emery’s specter mirrored next to mine.

Her voice still resonated in my mind.

"Just tell me the truth."

But I hadn’t done that. I had shared only fragments of it. The parts that were tidy, the ones that could be managed and contained.

Not the entire truth.

Not that I was still clawing my way out of the pit Tobias had cast me into as a child.

Not that the agreements I struck with Julian’s father were merely business—they were offerings. Pacts with demons to shield her from the inferno I inhabited. I surrendered what they desired, relinquished more pieces of myself so she wouldn’t have to suffer as I had. Yet, I should have realized that love couldn’t endure that level of silence.

She deserved more than fragments.

She deserved honesty.

And I allowed my arrogance to dictate that silence was the safer option.

I poured myself a glass of scotch and leaned against the door frame—the very door she had once entered to find solace, which she now perceived as her quiet torment.

Now it stood as a tomb for everything we left unspoken.

The conflict hadn’t merely shattered us. It had laid us bare.

Her defiance, my dominance—it wasn’t just a clash.

It was fear.

She was terrified of becoming something she couldn’t recognize.

I was terrified of losing the only real thing in a world I’d built on power, not people.

I stared down at the untouched drink in my hand, then set it aside. For the first time in years, liquor wouldn't help me forget.

I needed to remember. All of it.

Every choice.

Every betrayal.

Every time I’d chosen the war over her.

The floor vibrated faintly as my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it, expecting Simon or a headline notification about Tobias’s next move.

But it wasn’t a headline.

It was a photo.

An anonymous message with no sender ID.

Just an image of Emery.

Leaving my suite. Alone. Vulnerable. With a single line of text below it:

"You can’t protect what you don’t control."

I stared at it, blood going cold.

This wasn’t just a threat.

It was a warning.

The rival I’d feared was already moving.

And this time, they weren’t coming for my empire.

They were coming for her.

It was fear.

She was filled with dread at the thought of transforming into something unrecognizable.

I was consumed by the fear of losing the only genuine connection in a world I had constructed on dominance, not relationships.

I gazed down at the untouched drink in my grasp, then pushed it away. For the first time in years, alcohol wouldn’t aid me in escaping reality.

I needed to recall everything. All of it.

Every decision.

Every act of treachery.

Every instance I had prioritized the battle over her.

The floor trembled slightly as my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I snatched it up, anticipating a call from Simon or a news alert regarding Tobias’s next strategy.

But it wasn’t news.

It was a picture.

An anonymous message devoid of a sender ID.

Just a snapshot of Emery.

Departing my suite. Alone. Exposed. Accompanied by a single line of text beneath it:

"You can’t safeguard what you don’t command."

I fixated on it, my blood running cold.

This was more than a mere threat.

It was a caution.

The adversary I had dreaded was already in motion.

And this time, they weren’t targeting my empire.

They were coming for her.