CHAPTER FOUR: KAYA Macherson pov

I shivered under the bed.

The men’s voices echoed in my head — the person who sent them must be the same person who killed me before.

The mask, the black clothes… it was just like that night.

“How dare you walk into my hospital room? Who sent you?” Damon thundered, his voice thick with rage.

“Who are you?” one of them barked back. “We came for the girl.”

My heart raced.

I prayed silently that Damon wouldn’t give me up.

He was cold and cruel — telling them where I hid wouldn’t cost him a thing.

“Who are you people?” Damon’s tone grew darker. He pulled out another gun — this one glinting gold under the fluorescent light.

The men exchanged nervous glances.

“We’re sorry… we didn’t know you were the Damon Moretti. We wouldn’t have dared.”

The man at the front stammered, then hurried away. The rest followed, disappearing down the corridor.

Damon sat back on his bed, right on top of where I hid. His weight pressed on my head.

“Ouch,” I whimpered, crawling out from under the bed.

“Care to explain?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

“Thank you for saving me,” I said softly.

He gave a dark chuckle. “If you tell anyone you heard those men call me a mafia boss, your head will be rolling on the floor.”

I smiled faintly. “I already know you’re a mafia boss, Damon. I know more about you than you think.”

With that, I walked toward the door.

He didn’t stop me.

Didn’t say a word.

Good.

Let him be confused. Let him stew in it.

Outside, the doctor finally approached me.

“The surgery was successful,” he said. “Your father is stable. He can be discharged in two days if everything goes well.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

That meant everything was still going according to plan.

Dad and Damon would soon settle their business — and they’d use marriage to bind their deal.

Just like before.

And this time, I’d make sure things went my way.

I didn’t wait for Dad to wake up. I decided to go to work instead.

Cecilia hadn’t called. Not even a text.

Did she even love her father at all?

As I drove to my modeling company, my thoughts swirled.

Who could have sent those armed men?

Not Damon.

Not Dad — he was still unconscious.

Cecilia.

It had to be her.

When I arrived, I noticed her car parked outside.

My suspicions sharpened.

What was she doing here at my workplace?

We didn’t even have a shoot today.

The building was almost empty, except for the secretary—Taylor—who was fast asleep at her desk.

I tiptoed past her and peeked into my boss’s office. The door was slightly open.

And what I saw made my stomach turn.

Cecilia. Naked.

With Mr. Adams.

On his desk.

I covered my mouth to keep from gasping.

Cecilia was completely shameless.

As I turned to leave, her sultry voice froze me in place.

“I want you to fire Kaya. Fire her, and I’ll give you this every day,” she whispered.

Mr. Adams paused mid-motion. “I thought she was your sister.”

Cecilia rolled her eyes. “Please. Will you do it or not? Cut the crap.”

“She’s good,” he said hesitantly. “She brings in clients and deals.”

“Then employ me instead,” she purred. “I’ll bring better ones.”

My blood boiled.

I clenched my fists and quickly pulled out my phone.

Click.

One photo was all I needed.

If Adams dared to mess with me, I’d send that picture straight to his wife — our secretary, Taylor.

Poor woman. She was only a few steps away, sleeping soundly while her husband betrayed her.

As I tried to slip my phone back into my purse, it collided with my car keys, making a sharp sound.

Cecilia froze. “What was that?”

I ducked behind the wall.

Adams brushed it off, and they resumed. I took the chance to escape quietly, heart racing.

I hoped she moaned louder next time — maybe then Taylor would finally wake up.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I took a shower and collapsed into bed.

Whoever wanted me dead — I had to find them first.

As I drifted to sleep, Damon’s blue eyes flashed in my mind.

That stare. Cold, unreadable, dangerous.

It made my heart race — and that scared me more than the gunmen.

When I woke up, I began working on my secret detective board.

I pinned it to the wall and covered it with my curtains.

Every clue, every suspect would go there — just like in the crime dramas.

I didn’t have much time.

Five months wasn’t long.

If I stayed alive, the timeline would shift. That meant the killers could strike anytime.

They could come for me tomorrow.

A chill crept down my spine.

Who hated me this much?

I started with Cecilia.

She hated me because I was her stepsister. But was that enough to kill me?

There had to be more.

Then Dad.

He hated me because I wasn’t his real daughter.

He’d called me worthless.

Kicked me out.

Could that hatred have turned into something darker?

Then… Damon.

Writing his name on the list made my stomach twist.

Was it sadness? Or anger?

Maybe both.

I told myself to stop feeling.

Heart off. Brains on.

Maybe he wanted me dead because Cecilia asked him to.

Or maybe… there was another reason.

I erased his name.

Then wrote it again.

This time, with a question mark.

Damon Moretti?

Why would he want me dead?

And then another name crept into my mind.

One I hadn’t thought of in a long time.

Jessica Williams.

No…

That can’t be.