MasukNova
It had been a week since I moved into Killian’s house which was more like a damn mansion and honestly? It still didn’t feel real. The house was too big, too polished, and too cold. I could stand in the kitchen, and my voice would echo back at me like I was yelling into a cave.
I wasn’t used to all this marble and glass. My life was simple, sharing an apartment with Vera, laughing late at night while we ate instant noodles because rent and hospital bills took up most of my money. Now? Now I had a walk-in closet the size of her whole living room, and I didn’t even own enough clothes to fill a quarter of it.
Killian barely said a word to me after that first dinner. He moved like a ghost, always working, always giving off this vibe like I was just an inconvenience he had to tolerate. Which was fine by me. The less I saw of him, the better.
Except… I did see him. Way too often.
Every morning when I came down for breakfast, he was already there, sitting at the head of the dining table like some king out of a movie. Always in a suit. Always with that unreadable face. And those damn gray eyes that made it hard to breathe sometimes.
I hated that I noticed.
One morning, I was buttering toast when Tanya walked in like she owned the place. Her heels clicked against the floor, her perfume was strong enough to choke someone, and she didn’t even look at me before sliding into the seat beside him.
“Morning, Killian,” she said sweetly, touching his arm like she couldn’t help herself.
He gave her a small nod, no smile, nothing more. That was the thing about Killian; he didn’t waste words or emotions. Everything about him screamed control.
Meanwhile, I sat there, sipping my coffee, trying to ignore the way Tanya’s eyes cut toward me every now and then. Like she was daring me to react. But I didn’t. Why would I? She wasn’t my problem. Still, she annoyed the hell out of me.
“Don’t you have a job or something?” I muttered one morning when she wouldn’t stop staring.
Her lips curled into a smirk. “Don’t you?”
Killian’s fork clinked against his plate. His eyes flicked between us, sharp and cold. “Enough.”
That was the end of it, but not really. Tanya wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was I. We were two storms living under the same roof, and Killian was right in the middle, whether he liked it or not.
Later that week, I found myself wandering outside after dinner. The mansion sat on this huge piece of land, with gardens that looked straight out of a magazine. I walked along the path, hands stuffed into my jacket pockets, the night air crisp against my face.
I needed a break from all of it, from the tension, from Tanya’s possessive little smiles, and from Killian’s silent judgment.
“Nova.”
I froze at the sound of his voice. He was leaning against the stone railing near the fountain, hands in his pockets, looking like he’d been standing there waiting for me.
My stomach tightened. “What? You following me now?”
He pushed off the railing and walked toward me. God, he was tall. Every step he took seemed measured and controlled, like even gravity had to listen to him.
“I wanted to ask you something,” he said finally.
I crossed my arms. “Spit it out, then.”
His jaw tightened, and for a second he just looked at me, like he was trying to decide if I was worth the effort. Then he said it:
“My grandmother paid for your mother’s treatment, didn’t she?”
The words hit me like a slap. My chest tightened, but I forced my face to stay neutral. “Why? Are you going to throw that in my face now? Tell me I’m just some charity case?”
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes searched mine, sharp and almost… confused. “You should’ve told me.”
I laughed bitterly. “Why? So you could call off the whole deal? Newsflash, Killian: I didn’t marry you because I wanted to. I did it because I had no choice. My mother needs me. She needs that surgery. If that makes me weak in your eyes, fine. But don’t stand there acting like you would’ve done any different.”
He didn’t have a comeback. He just stared at me, those stormy eyes of his unreadable. I hated that silence. It made me feel exposed, like he could see straight through my skin to the desperation I still carried. So I turned and started walking away.
But his voice stopped me. Low, rough, and almost softer than I’d ever heard it.
“She means that much to you?”
I spun around, anger flaring hot in my chest. “Of course she does! She’s my mother, Killian. The only family I have. I would sell my soul if it meant keeping her alive.”
His jaw clenched, and for a second, I saw something in his eyes. Not cold. Not cruel. Something else, something that looked a lot like pain.
But it was gone just as fast. He straightened, all business again. “Don’t expect sympathy from me, Nova. This is a deal. That’s all this is.”
I swallowed hard, nodding. “Good. Keep it that way.”
Then I walked off before he could see the tears burning my eyes.
That night, lying in the massive bed that didn’t feel like mine, I thought about the way he’d looked at me by the fountain. About the crack in his armor, the glimpse of something human underneath.
And I hated myself for wondering what it meant. No matter how tall he stood, no matter how piercing his eyes were, I couldn’t let myself forget:
I didn’t marry him out of love. I married him out of desperation.
And that was all it would ever be.He stared at me like I'd just said something in ancient Greek. "You nearly died right here. Someone screwed up. There's no way I'm just ignoring a threat like this, especially when it happened in my house. You're my responsibility to fix.""I know the drill, Killian: the contract, the reputation, all that rubbish." I cut him off, feeling a surge of that old stubbornness rise up. "But I don't need a bodyguard. I don't need high-maintenance food sent in every day. I just need you to go back to the way it was."I looked at him pleadingly, hating the weakness in my voice. "Go back to ignoring me. Go back to being the cold, distant guy who stays out of my way. I'm fine. This was a fluke, an accident, not a full-blown war."I hated this sudden shift. I hated the feeling of being cared for, because I knew it wasn't real; it was just his need for control mixed with shock. When he was cold, I was safe. When he showed this frightening level of focus, I felt like prey."I appreciate you moving f
KillianI threw the door open to her. The air smelled sharp, like a hospital mixed with pure oxygen.She was propped up in the bed, pale as hell, with an oxygen tube running under her nose. The doctor, Hennessey, was standing over her, checking the machines.I went straight to the foot of the bed and just stood there, gripping the rail. "Is she okay?" I asked Hennessey, my voice rough.He was calm and all business. "Yes, Mr. Ashford. We caught the anaphylaxis quickly, thank God. Epinephrine was administered, oxygen saturation is stable, and the swelling is going down. But it was severe. Very close. She needs rest and observation, but she'll be fine.""Fine," I repeated, my jaw tight. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, and the tension in my shoulders eased slightly, replaced by a focused, sinking determination.Hennessey finished checking her and walked over to me, lowering his voice. "She's also exhausted, Mr. Ashford. She appears to have been pushing herself hard the
I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I didn't think this was a planned attack from my staff. Martha wouldn't let that happen, and the others were too scared of me to even try. But if it wasn't an actual cooking mistake, then what was it? Cross-contamination? An accidental mix-up from some random cleaning product? Where the hell did it come from?"I DON'T CARE. DAMNIT, MARTHA! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MAKE SURE IT WAS SAFE FOR HER," I yelled, my voice raw and hoarse. "I care that your one, basic job—the easiest job—was keeping her safe from nuts, and you blew it! Somebody in this room is either lying or completely incompetent! Find the source! Now! Check every single thing that touched that plate! The cleaner, the rag, and the air find the damn trace! If you can't prove she's safe here, then all of you are done! Fired!"I didn't wait for anyone to answer. I walked away fast; I needed to get out before I splintered the table with my bare hands. I had been an idiot to trus
KillianA few minutes later, she walked in. She was wearing that same simple T-shirt and jeans, looking tired but still holding that rigid posture. She didn't look at me or Tanya. She headed straight for the table, grabbed a plate, and loaded it up.She chose the exact same seat as before: ten feet away from us, a seat at the middle of the large table. She poured her coffee and sat down, immediately diving into her eggs.I watched her. I wasn't saying anything, just giving her some space, kind of waiting to see if she'd even notice I was back in the room. She didn't. She was zoned out, focused only on eating, just like she'd promised she would be.She was maybe halfway through the plate when her fork just froze.Her head snapped up, and her eyes instantly went wide. Not the look of being scared, but of sharp, gut-punching shock. Her face, which had been pale all morning, suddenly went splotchy and bright red in patches."Nova?" I snapped, dropping the tablet I was looking at.She didn
TanyaThat old snake, Camille! That was where the real problem lay. She had really done it this time, dragging that plain, arrogant girl into his life. A contract wife! It was an insult. A fucking trick to stop me from getting what I deserved.And the nerve of her, locking Killian and Nova in that room at the villa all night! I knew what she was doing. She was trying to force a connection, trying to make Killian see Nova as something more than a glorified receipt.When Killian got home this morning, he'd looked tired, stressed, and even more shut off than usual. I knew it wasn't because of me; it was because of Nova. She was a piece of grit in the smooth machine of his life, and he didn't know how to spit her out.I love Killian. I've loved him since we were kids. He was my rock after the accident, my whole world when I had nothing left. He might only see me as a friend, a little sister he has to protect, but that's only because he's blind. He doesn't know what real love looks like. H
KillianI needed to know what she was doing. She’d mentioned her mother’s clinic schedules earlier, but now she was poring over something that looked like serious work. Spreadsheets, complex documents. Yet, I knew she wasn't currently employed. She was here, tied up in this mess, supposedly for a year.I couldn’t hold the curiosity back any longer. It was a weakness, but she was like an unsolved equation sitting in my living room, and it was driving me mad. I shut my tablet with a quiet snap and broke the silence."You don't work," I stated flatly, not as a question, but as a fact.She didn't jump. Didn't even flinch. She just kept typing for another full minute, saving whatever she was working on, before finally lifting her head slowly. She looked at me with those guarded, hazel eyes, and there was no heat in them, just a tired sort of honesty."No, Killian, I don't work at the moment," she replied, her voice cool and measured."But you seem occupied," I countered. "What is it? Perso







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