Chapter 9: Fire lines

Killian's POV

The moment the door opened, I lifted my gaze to meet hers. I had long perceived her strong, alluring perfume scent— she was shaking

It wasn't visible, not in a way others would notice, but I knew. I had observed her to understand her, even when she was with Tobias, I had observed her— when her breath hitched out of fear, or her unsteady breathing when she was anxious, or her trembling hands when she was nervous. I knew her well enough to know that she was shaking. 

She had left here with a proud shoulder and her posture confident. But now, her shoulder had stiffened, her posture was no longer poised but defensive, and those eyes of hers were glassy, haunted, flitting around the room like a deer being stalked by a predator.

I wanted to go and give her a warm hug, cradle her, pat her, and tell her it was okay. But I held myself back from going to the. I didn't want to create a scene, so I waited impatiently, and the distance between the door and the chair suddenly felt long.

The second she sat down, I leaned in, inhaling that intoxicated perfume of hers. Her body stiffened, and her hands, which had started to lose their composure 

“Are you okay?" I asked, not wanting to go to the point, I wanted to give her a chance to express herself,, even if it was a little. 

“I'm good, I just needed some air," she nodded 

But the stubbornness in her wouldn't let her. He gave me a nod, indicating she was fine, but it felt odd. She nodded too quickly, almost before I finished my question. Her neck looked stiff, like it would only work on demand, and her face was rigid.

“Your pupils are dilated,” I told her with the hope that she would talk about the incident

"I said I'm fine, okay,” she snapped 

I was stunned by her reaction. Maybe I had pressed the Matter a little too much 

I lean back on my chair, giving her the air she desired. I returned to the conversation at the table. I could tell that she regretted her choice of tone, but I had to show I wasn't cool with it. 

But I couldn't. I was with my business partners in their conversation, but at the same time, I wasn't. I barely heard what my business partners were saying. I forced smiles, signed off deals, and nodded at jokes I couldn’t care less about. 

My focus had shifted to Emery. From the corner of my eye, I watched her.

I noticed her every exhaled breath. She would occasionally move to the clock, like the dining room had suddenly felt suffocating. I noticed when she glanced at the dark sky through the window, every twitch of her fingers, every breath she held too long, every glance over her shoulder. Emery was scared.

But the meeting continued completely unfazed by my inner battle. 

My business partners talked about the same topic over and over again at every meeting, so that I could repeat to them word for word— they had turned boring 

When the last course was cleared and the handshakes were done, I didn’t even wait for the valet. I tossed the keys to the security detail and opened the car door myself, guiding her in with a hand at her lower back. She was silent the whole way back, the lights of the city flashing over her face like ghosts of the past whispering things I couldn’t hear. I didn't press her. Not yet.

I needed her to tell me, not shut down. I had planned to wait for her to talk 

But the second we were alone, the second the front door to the penthouse closed behind us, I strode to the counter, took out a bottle of whiskey, and filled my glass.

I saw her pace the room, then she kicked off her heels. Her display was laughable, and it took a lot not to laugh. I kept a straight face and pretended not to be concerned. 

I played with the glass of whiskey, circling it on the counter. She exhaled loudly, but I continued to play with the glass of whiskey 

After what seems like forever, she finally spoke up, “Aren't you going to ask?" 

“I was waiting for you to talk," I replied, my voice calmer than expected. I threw her a glance over my shoulder.

“I don't know if I can. I don't know what to say." 

“Why?" I turned to me, her words caught my attention.

“Because I don't know… I don't know what this is. The fake engagement. The media are constantly on my tail. Your enemies after my life, I'm tired,” she exhaled, her voice almost crying, but she continued to talk, “Do you know… that someone cornered me in the hallway tonight with a dagger pointing to my neck. He threatened you through me.”

My entire body stiffened. The whiskey I had finally decided to drink froze in place, just a few inches away from my mouth.

“What did he say?" I asked, my voice iced, controlled, but deadly. 

“He said I should tell you that you have started a war that you wouldn't survive." I saw her clench her jaw like she was reliving the moment as she repeated the man's words 

I took a breath. My fist stayed at my sides, tight as iron, nails digging into my palms. I didn’t want to frighten her. But inside, I was already calculating—checking vulnerabilities, thinking of who I pissed off recently. The Caballos? No. Too public. The Russians? Maybe. But this was personal. This wasn’t about business. This was a message.

“Fuçk," I cursed under my breath. I tossed back the whiskey and slammed the glass down hard enough that it cracked at the edge.

I saw her flinch, and I immediately released my grip on the glass. “I didn't mean to scare.” My voice softened.

“You think I didn't want to?" Her voice broke. “ I'm tired, Killian. I'm tired of always being scared. First Tobias, now this —and now I'm tied to you and your war, I don't even know who the enemy is anymore." 

My chest tightened at her words. Hearing those hurtful words from Emery broke me into a million pieces 

Having Tobias send the Russians to threaten Emery was not on my list, and it hurts to know that she went through that because of me, and I hate myself for it. 

I tried to do a quick run on who it might be that's going after me, because I know for a fact that Emery is as innocent as a dove.

She hasn't done anything to hurt anyone.

I'm sure they went after her because of me.

“It must be someone from my past,” I said to myself, but Emery heard it clearly

“You know them?" She asked, her eyes glassy with tears threatening to fall.

I couldn't bring myself to admit to her that her life was in danger because of my stupid past life.

Wouldn't she hate me if I told her that?

“Tell me!!!!!!!!!!!!! Emery screamed at me, jolting me out of my thoughts

I snapped my head to her, and her face was already covered in tears, her mascara running in black lines down her face.

I immediately cursed myself 

“I think I do." 

" You think? You're not even sure?

“Somebody is threatening me, Killian,” she cried 

 I couldn't bring myself to look at her broken self

“I'm sorry it happened because of me." 

"I'll take care of it.”

“How?" she asked while I prepared to leave

I picked up my car keys and made my way to the door, looking back at her, “I gotta take care of something," I said, making my way out of the house, riding the elevator down, and getting into my car.

At the moment, I can only think of Tobias and the Russians.

It has to be them.

I drove around the city with no direction. The city looked peaceful from here, but I knew better. I knew the danger that lurked in the shadows.

I took out my phone and dialed a secure line. The call went through on the second ring 

“Elijah. I want the footage from the restaurant. Every hallway camera, cross-check for unknown individuals. Anyone not on the guest list and pull Intel on the caballos, the contis, and anybody else with a death wish.”

“Yes, sir," Elijah replied without hesitation.

I hung up and parked at an old bridge I didn't know for how long I stood there for, but I later ended up booking a hotel 

**

The next morning, I met Emery at the balcony, drinking coffee from the mugs I had kept for her, but she froze, and I knew something was wrong the moment she stopped breathing.

Emery sat across from me, her fingers frozen around her coffee mug, her skin draining of all color. Her gaze dropped to the phone in her lap, unblinking. I didn’t need to see the screen to know something had gone terribly sideways.

“Emery.” My voice cut through the morning air. “What is it?”

She looked up slowly.

Her hands shook as she handed me the phone.

I took it, turning it over in my palm. A grainy image filled the screen of Tobias sitting at a dimly lit bar. His face was bruised and healing. Laughing. Across from him, the same bastard who threatened Emery in that hallway.

My pulse spiked, sharp and electric.

Below it, one line of text:

Still think you’re safe?

Every part of me went quiet.

This wasn’t business.

This was war.

I stood, my chair scraping against the tile. “Where did this come from?”

“A number I don’t know. It came in seconds ago.”

I handed the phone back to her. “Delete it.”

“But—”

“Delete it now, Emery.”

She flinched, but did as I said. I didn’t like the fear in her eyes. I didn’t want to be the cause of it. But I couldn’t protect her if she hesitated.

I could barely protect her as it was.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and fired off a message to Elijah.

Me: We’ve got a breach. I need eyes on Tobias. I want surveillance, transcripts, audio, everything. Today.

I didn't get a response, but I knew he was already ready for it. I had asked Elijah to watch Tobias’ every movement right after the stunt he pulled at my penthouse. But I hadn't expected to play such a dirty card this fast. 

From the corner of my eyes,, I saw Emery— she sat still, her hands clenched tightly on her dress. 

“You are not to leave without my permission.”

" What?” Her eyes widened. “Are you placing me on house arrest now?” she questioned 

“Tobias is working with the same man who hurt you. I can't let you out for now," I said. I didn't know how to tell her how severe the matter was. I didn't want to scare her.

How do I explain what I don't fully understand?

“I can't abandon my life just like that, Killian.” 

" You will if you want to live.” I didn't want to talk to her in such a tone, but I had no choice.

“Stop talking to me in such a manner, I'm not your employee, nor am I your asset, nor am I something to be managed,” she snapped, standing up from her chair and walking away from me. We were a few inches apart from each one. Her challenging side was fire and was to die for, but I needed her to listen.

“No,” I said, stepping closer. “You’re not something. You’re someone. Someone, I will burn down this entire city if I have to. You don’t want to be managed? Fine. But you will be protected. Even if I have to lock you in this penthouse.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

She stared at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. And for the first time, her fury matched mine. I was admirable, but there was something else— it was fear. 

I didn't know if they were for me or for something else, but I didn't talk about it because other matters occupied my mind 

How do I tame this new side of her? 

Should I leave her to cool down? 

Should I apologize? 

Apologie? That was new. I was never in my vocabulary, at least not until today. 

The thought sounded foreign, but I had read that an apology helps when calming a woman. I might as well try it. 

First, I breathe in and out, pushing the anger away, then I begin my voice softened, “ I'm sorry, but please let me keep you safe just this last time.” 

And it worked like magic. Her shoulder went down and her voice came as a whisper, “ok, just for a time, but promise not to lie to me.” 

"I wouldn't," I said, and I meant it 

Thirty minutes later, I was downstairs in the black SUV, Elijah in the seat beside me.

He handed me a folder. “Tobias has been sloppy. You were right. He's not just with the Russians, but he's been meeting with others. He's playing it on both sides.”

I flipped the folder open. Photos. Phone logs. Audio transcripts.

One line caught my attention immediately.

Tobias: “Killian won’t last a month. He thinks he’s invincible, but he’s one bad headline away from bleeding out in the boardroom.”

I clenched my jaw.

He always was a petty little snake.

Elijah continued, “The man who approached Emery is Viktor Marin. Ex-security for a rival firm you shut down last year. He disappeared after the fire at the Dyer Holdings warehouse. We thought he was dead.”

“Apparently not,” I muttered.

“He’s working with Anton Novik now.”

That name hit like a punch.

Anton was old Russian money. Ruthless. Lethal. The kind of man who didn’t play chess—he flipped the board and shot the other player in the head.

“I want everything on him,” I said. “Where he eats, where he sleeps, who he talks to.”

Elijah nodded. “Already in motion.”

We drove in silence for a moment. My mind spun like a loaded chamber.

“What about Emery?” he asked finally. “You going to tell her everything?”

“She already knows too much.”

“That’s not an answer.”

I stared out the window. “The truth would break her.”

“Or make her stronger.”

I didn’t respond.

Because deep down, I knew Dante was right.

**

Back at the penthouse, I found Emery sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone. The headlines were brutal.

From Victim to Vixen: Emery Sinclair’s Rapid Rise in High Society

Sinclair-Wolfe Engagement: Business Merger or PR Stunt?

What Is Killian Wolfe Hiding?

I sat beside her, gently took the phone from her hands, and locked the screen.

“You don’t need to see that,” I said.

“But I do,” she whispered. “Because it reminds me this isn’t just about you. I’m in it now, too.”

She looked up at me, and something in her eyes cracked wide open.

“I spent years being invisible, Killian. Tobias made sure of it. He buried me so deep in his world that I forgot I had a voice. And now I’m finally out—but I feel like I’m losing control all over again. To you. To the press. To these faceless enemies I never asked for.”

I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not losing control. You’re taking it back.’

“I don’t feel powerful.”

“You don’t have to feel it for it to be true.”

Her eyes welled up, and I saw it—the core of her vulnerability.

It shattered me.

“You’re not a pawn, Emery,” I said. “You’re the only one in this game who’s not lying.”

She rested her head against my shoulder, and I let her stay there as long as she needed.

Because there were no more lies.

And soon, there’d be no mercy.

**

That night, while she finally slept beside me, my burner phone lit up with a message from one of my inside men.

NKNOWN: Novik is moving. Tomorrow night. He wants her. Alive.

My blood ran cold.

I looked at Emery sleeping, curled into herself like something delicate.

They wanted her alive?

That meant they wanted leverage.

And no one—no one—used Emery Sinclair against me and lived to tell the story.