DANIEL
There was tension so thick in the air, it was as if one could cut it with a knife. Rebel had been a whirlwind for three months since she arrived in my life, sneaking out, evading guards, and testing every limit I set. But I did think that finally she'd begun to understand that she wasn't a prisoner; her safety was simply not up for negotiation. Her previous organization had been brutal, and the coded signals we had intercepted had guaranteed us that her latest mission was to kill me. The irony was that she did not even realize it, or at least did not show it. Her movements of the past couple of days had been unusual. Silent. Too silent. It was not like her, and I did not think so. My second-in-command, Klaus, had discovered a lead: a man named Michael had been desperately trying to reach her. Only the name had made her pull further inside herself, blank-eyed into space. Michael was her adopted father, Klaus's investigation revealed. But I could sense that it wasn't the entire story. I couldn't put my finger on the dynamic between them, but there was more. There was a hint of fear and reverence in the way her expression tightened at his name. And then there was our first genuine fight. She had visited a clinic with Catya to take birth control pills. I felt insulted by the suggestion, it was not her choice to make on her own. She didn't wish to risk an intimate relationship since she didn't want to deal with the depth of her emotions so I exchanged her pills for vitamins. It was a deliberate betrayal, but in my mind, it was justified. If she ever found out the truth, hell would rain, but I just could not help myself. The fight with Michael was inevitable, although I hadn't expected it to go the way it did. On the way back from town, we were halted by a black shiny motorbike. A tall, fair-skinned man in his late forties got off the horse and pointed a revolver at my car. Rebel's body tensed next to me, and her breath was stuck in her throat. I wished mentally for her to remain calm as I reached across and squeezed her hand hard. Bloodshed was not what this day required. With my hands half-raised to indicate that I was not carrying anything, I stepped out of the vehicle. I met Michael's stern stare and replied softly, "Let's talk." "Rebel is with me, but you can ride in one of the cars or follow behind us." He let out a cold laugh. "I ride with her." "Not gonna happen," I said, my voice firming. "She rides within three paces of me the entire time," I informed him, my voice one that wouldn't be disobeyed. Michael's jaw went hard, his gaze darting to Rebel, and for an instant, I was sure he was going to shoot, but instead nodded abruptly. "Fine.". Take the lead. We drove back in silence, Rebel sitting still beside me with her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. Michael remained behind us on his motorcycle, the motor's rumbling a persistent sign of his tail. My own hands gripped the steering wheel more firmly as I looked over at her. The woman who had defied all the rules I had set, who had lit a fire in my otherwise structured life, was now as motionless as a statue. It was apparent that she was not prepared to confront whatever past she had discussed with Michael. Tension coursed through the house. Rebel pulled her hand out of mine and headed to Michael in the conference room, her voice steady but gentle. "Dad." Michael's face was unreadable as he turned. He glared at me for a second, then back at her with his icy eyes appraising her. "Did I not teach you better?" His voice was a knife slicing through the room. "When did you begin using your legs to think? Do you have any idea what they will do to you? To the two of you?" His words cut like a lash. I braced myself rigid by clenching fists. Just because he was her father, this man's tone was actually impolite. Yes, I did. Michael didn't give me time to respond. Do you think this is a game? You become weak when you fall in love. I told you that how many times? Rebel jutted his chin out in defiance. "I'm not helpless.". This is manageable. It doesn't alter me. "It changes everything!" he burst out, his mask slipping. "You're dead the moment you let your guard down. Or worse, what then happens when he's dead? Do you lose your edge when you've got your revenge?" She spoke softly but firmly. "That isn't so. I'm aware of the risks." "No," Michael angrily snapped back. "You don't. You wouldn't risk all your training if you did. You become vulnerable when you fall in love. Being vulnerable is dangerous." Rebel's voice was firm as she stood tall. "I won't let them kill us. Michael scowled in disgust.". "It's already begun, you've got a bull's eye painted on your forehead. Don't make me wish I'd kept all my secrets to myself." She stood firm and answered brusquely, "I won't," her eyes flashing up at him. Michael stared at me, his unblinking and intense gaze sending a shiver through me. "This is the chap, then." Rebel's glance flickered at me briefly before he answered in a gentler tone. Indeed. Daniel is this chap. He glared at me. "I hope you're worth it.". Because I'll do it myself if you don't. There was complete silence after Michael had spoken. I would not flinch from his gaze as I glared at him. Rebel's hand shifted position at her side as if she did not know whether she should take hold of me or step away completely. She was more upset about her father being there. I saw the anguish in her eyes, and it was much deeper than she cared to acknowledge. Finally, I responded, "You have a lot of nerve," firmly but clearly. "Showing up here guns drawn and behaving as though you still had her in your pocket." Michael's eyes turned serious. "Authority? Do you think there's power at stake here? It's a matter of survival. Something that is quite beyond your comprehension. I said, "I know more than you think." "But you're mistaken if you think you can just charge in here and intimidate her into submission." With her hands raised as if to physically separate us, Rebel intervened between us. She spoke quietly, "Enough," in a soothing voice that belied the tension radiating from her. "You two." Her tone softened but lost its edge as she spoke to Michael. "I understand your intentions, but you no longer have the right to control my decisions.". You showed me how to think for myself and stand firm. I am doing just that. Michael's jaw did tighten, but he did not utter a word. I did momentarily think that he would hear me out. Then, in a low, menacing voice, he spoke. "You think this is going to work out for you and him? You have no idea what's going to happen. Rebel, they won't stop. They never stop." "I understand," she said firmly. "And I'm ready for that." The night wore on with the conversation. The danger that dogged Rebel like a shadow and the organisation she used to work for weren't the only urgent threats. It was about trust. About the unseen but long-lasting scars that still existed between her and Michael. Michael shared pieces of their history, tales that painted a picture of a guy who had once had a strong affection for the girl he had taken in but had become cynical with their way of life. He talked of failed missions, bloody sacrifices, and lessons learned. Rebel's face was unreadable as she listened. She would look at me sometimes as if she was looking for reassurance or gauging my reaction. It was evident that the fight was far from over by the time Michael departed. Rebel was clearly exhausted as she leaned against me, but I knew that we would face whatever came next together.DANIELThat evening, when the children were tucked in bed and silence had fallen over our home, I found Rebel in our bedroom, getting dressed in something more comfortable; a silky satin gown that hugged her curves in all the right places. After childbirth, her body has become so curvy and sophisticated. The soft light fell on her in a warm sheen on skin as she turned with the elegance that made my heart thud. She caught me looking in the mirror over her shoulder. "Think I look okay?" she asked, turning slightly to reveal more. "Stunning," I told her, my voice deep and gritty with need. As she came up, the fabric glimmered on her body, accentuating her addictive figure. She came close and playfully tugged on my shirt an invitation that was laced with teasing. "Wanna come with me?" she breathed, her body heat on my ear as she leaned against me. In an instant, that tension between us flared like fire and fuel. My hands circled her waist, pulling her forward until not a single space rema
DANIEL It wasn't the wine we'd had at the restaurant. It wasn't even Carly's continued suspicion of my motives after all — although that in itself could've soured the heavenly crème brûlée. It was something else that bothered the back of my mind the moment we left the restaurant. Something slashing. Cold. Killian. I grasped Rebel's hand in my own as we walked toward the car, but my focus wasn't on her warmth tonight. Not entirely. It was on the way he had gazed at her for just a fraction of a second too long. The way he said her name was like he had a right to remember it intimately. "Daniel," Rebel murmurs, sliding into the backseat with a contented sigh. "That wasn't half bad; I had no idea Mother was capable of apologising." I laugh. "Which part?" She grins, "All of it. The food. The apology. The emotional bonding – I have a brother, an adopted brother." I chuckled, but my hand never left her back. That was the thing about Rebel—she burnt so bright that I wonder sometimes i
CARLY RHODES I don’t beg.I host galas, control over two hundred sixty-six subsidiaries, a whole kingdom, and can command silence with a glance—but beg? Never.Which is how I knew tonight would be...different and awkward, to say the least, because just like Jacque says, "I messed up big time this time around." But could you blame me? For years I thought my daughter was dead, yet suddenly she's alive with a whole life of her own, a lover to a man who is insanely rich, powerful and formidable in every field that matters, and she has two kids for him, but she is a princess by birth, an heiress to her father's numerous wealth and status, and she needs to come to terms with it, and he is no good to her, but little miss independent doesn't agree. She is the best and worst manifestation of her father and me, incredibly and utterly stubborn.The restaurant was tucked into a quiet rooftop in midtown. No paparazzi. No fanfare. Just a private room, three chairs, and the sound of my pride slowly
KILLIAN RHODES My name is Killian Rhodes; there are things you don’t admit out loud. Like when you get hard watching your own blood—well, adopted blood—fire your parents ever know it all public relations nightmare on national television while chastising and putting all journalists in their place? But Ray isn’t the kind of friend you lie to. He has been my ride or die and knows more secrets about me than any other person in this world; hence, I never put up airs around him, so I bare my demons to him as I exhale harshly. “She’s perfect, man. Like a goddamn ghost with lipstick.” He scoffs, "You’re talking about your sister, Mason.” “Step-sister”, I add, like that’s supposed to make it better. I shake my head negatively. "She’s not really my sister. I mean, we’ve never met. I was informed of her existence merely months ago, man. ”So that makes it okay for you to jack off to her news coverage?" Come on, man, I didn't jack off to it. Not this time. Ray groans and facepalms. Jesus Christ,
JACQUE RHODES I was three espresso shots deep into my morning meeting when the chaos started. The giant screen in my office blinked to life with the live feed. All twelve board members fell into hush as the press conference came into view—Rebel, or as the world had just been reintroduced to her, Catie Rhodes, stood on that podium like she was born on it and ready to burn it down. And oh, did she burn it down. “Turn it up,” I said, chuckling into my espresso. The intern nearly tripped trying to obey. The moment the volume hit an audible range, Rebel's voice sliced through the room. “Yes, legally, I’m Catie Rhodes. But let’s stop pretending I’ve lived her life. I’m Rebel. And if that makes you uncomfortable, sit with it.” I let out a full-blown ha!—and I don’t ha! often. The board members glanced at each other nervously. One man—the one who always orders chicken salad without the chicken—leaned toward me. “Sir… Shouldn’t we be worried?” I wiped my eyes. “Worried? Hell no.
REBEL Punching bags I understand; climbing through tall buildings, disguises, everything and anything I had been trained for for years, yet having to attend press conferences, fake smiles, and being kind to annoying individuals just rubs me the wrong way. Mother had been insisting on me doing this, yet here I am, missing my kids and lover, who didn’t like the fact that I stepped out without him or the kids, and by the heavens, I don't understand why my mother doesn't just accept him even after I've had his kids, and to make things worse, she hired one of his exes as her PR person, and I don't like the way things are slowly beginning to spin out of control. Flashes exploded like fireworks. “Smile, Catie!” “Princess, over here!” “Catie Rhodes, is it true you ran away for over fifteen years because your mother didn’t buy you the right tiara?” I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. My heels clicked against the marble as I walked into the opulent press hall flanked by secur