Sweet Hatred
Chapter 103: Kael Roman - iii

Chapter 103: Kael Roman - iii

Luca’s smile faltered for a second. Not long. But enough.

"He was a loyal man. Worked customs in Palermo under my father. Clean on the books. Unremarkable. Easy to forget." I paused watching his gaze flicker with unease.

"Until you handed my father a name and called it a favor. Told him Valerio was selling out our routes. That he was yours before he was ours."

I leaned forward, slow, steady. My elbows pressed into my knees.

"I was twenty-four. Fresh into uniform. I wasn’t supposed to be in Sicily that week. But I was the one who dragged Valerio into that fire."

That knocked the smirk right off his face.

"So if you’re calling this—" I gestured to the paper offer, to the champagne, to the tacky opulence of the room, "—another favor... you should remember what the last one cost you."

The silence that followed wasn’t tense. It was dead. One of his men behind him shifted like he couldn’t breathe in it. Luca recovered, barely. Slathered a grin over the panic.

"You Romans are always so dramatic. I didn’t mean anything by it, eh? No fire this time. Just business. Brotherhood." He waved at the room like it meant something. "We lift each other up, no? This is just the beginning."

I stood. Smoothed my jacket cuff. Not because I had to. Just because I could. And I could tell no amount of money could buy the fool off. He had became too greedy. Aiming for the galaxy when he could barely reach the sky.

"You’ve made your offer Luca." I spoke, a smirk playing at the corner of my lip. "Now let me show you mine."

As I stepped toward the exit, the air shifted. Not just the usual tension that followed me—but something deliberate. Threatening.

Two men moved into place, blocking the doorway like shadows summoned on command. Broad shoulders, clenched jaws, arms inked with bad decisions and borrowed courage. I didn’t stop walking until I was a breath away from one of them.

That’s when I heard Luca’s voice, too smug for someone so out of his depth.

"You’re not walking out of here untouched, Kael. Not tonight."

I paused. My gaze moved to the floor for half a second before rising to meet his. I didn’t even need to try. The laugh came out soft—barely a sound—but it cut through the room like broken glass.

I turned back to him slowly, like he wasn’t worth the rush.

"These?" I nodded toward the muscle at the door. "These are the dogs you send to bare teeth at me?"

They didn’t move. Neither did I.

"I’ve seen rats with sharper instincts," I murmured. My tone never shifted. It didn’t have to. "Strays you lured in, fed scraps, gave them enough leash to think they mattered."

I stepped in closer—not to intimidate, just to speak with clarity.

"You mistake noise for threat, Luca. That’s your first weakness."

My gaze flicked to the men by the door, then back to him.

"You think I’m afraid of street thugs you dressed in black? You forget, Luca. That the Romans don’t use dogs. We train weapons. Men who’ve killed in silence, who don’t need to threaten to get results."

I adjusted my sleeve. The fabric folded smooth under my fingers.

"My driver could slit your throat before your men even noticed I’d stopped walking. And that’s just the man who holds the door for me."

The silence that followed stretched like wire. I didn’t blink. I didn’t smile.

"But if you really want to leave this place coughing up teeth and blood," I said, tilting my head just slightly, "go ahead. Give the order. I haven’t had a proper warm-up in weeks."

Luca didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, jaw tight, eyes flicking from me to his men like he was trying to remember how control used to feel in his hands.

It was gone. And then I caught sight of a young girl in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall near the hallway entrance. Not hiding. Just... waiting.

She was dressed up in something cheap and revealing, but her makeup had long faded and there was a smudge of blood on her knee, dried and ignored. She looked half-bored, half-dead behind the eyes. Like she wasn’t really there anymore.

Probably waiting for Luca to finish whatever show of dominance he was staging to be his punching bag or worse.

I didn’t mean to look at her. I just did. Like my mind wanted to punish me with a reminder. Aria would’ve hated this place. Would’ve burned it down herself if she saw what men like Luca used women for.

I exhaled slowly, took a step to the side and extended my hand, palm open.

She hesitated.

"She’s not yours to take," Luca snapped, finding his voice again. There was a quiver in it he tried to hide.

I didn’t even glance at him.

"Come," I said softly. Just to her. And she moved. God, she moved like she hadn’t been allowed to for years. Like she didn’t believe it yet.

The second her hand touched mine, I turned. "You can’t just—" Luca started, voice rising. I looked over my shoulder, calm as ever.

"Once again," I said, eyes narrowing into a warning, "You should rethink that sentence and maybe understand why I accepted your invite."

Then I led her past the stunned guards and out the door. Niko, already ahead, stood there, holding the car door open like he’d known exactly what would happen.

She slipped in first. I followed and the rest too.

Inside the car, I didn’t speak. I didn’t need to. The city blurred outside, but my mind stayed on Aria. Her voice. Her hands. Her laughter.

And without realizing it, my fingers curled gently around the girl’s trembling ones—just once, just to anchor her.

She didn’t let go.

When we arrived back at my suite, I assigned a distant friend to take her in, care for her well-being and if possible send her back home where she was trafficked from.