Sweet Hatred
Chapter 202: After meeting

Chapter 202: After meeting

It was beautiful. Terrifying. And meticulously designed.

"There will be encrypted comms. Facial recognition. Live AI monitoring. Backup plans on top of backup plans. Only guests with verified power, secrets, or blood oaths will gain access."

Someone at the table whistled low.

Ash didn’t smile.

"And you will all keep your mouths shut. Officially, this event doesn’t exist. It never will. Only the survivors will remember what they sacrificed... or stole."

A quiet chill swept the room.

I sat perfectly still. Processing. Memorizing. Drowning in details I wasn’t sure I was qualified to even hear.

And yet, somehow, I was here. In the room.

There was something disturbingly familiar in the way she spoke. Strategic. Unapologetic. Calculated like a chessboard with no empty spaces. And I hated that the voice in the back of my head whispered she’s like you. Worse, she’s like him.

Kael.

Even the way her mouth curved when she said disappear reminded me of him, cool, unreadable, laced with something just under the surface. I blinked, and for half a second, tried to imagine the two of them in the same room. Working together. Speaking the same cruel language dressed in velvet and guns.

I hated the image immediately.

But what I hated more... was that I couldn’t tell if I was jealous of her, or just scared of what it meant if she really was like me.

But then I heard it.

Just beneath the surface of Ash’s smooth, curated speech... resentment.

She spoke about the rich like she wasn’t one of them. Like she’d bled her way to the top instead of inheriting it. Like she wasn’t a trust fund baby with her father’s empire tucked in her handbag.

It threw me off.

I shook the thought away. Tried to focus.

Because who the hell was I to psychoanalyze her anyway? Ever since I found out she existed, I’d done nothing but judge her. Like a bitter ex-wife staring down the mistress. God, I was sounding like one of those "young women are the devil" moms from Facebook.

I shut that down real quick.

Focus, Aria.

I narrowed my eyes and leaned forward, attention snapping back to Ash.

Because whatever the hell Nox Aeterna was...

...it was bigger than I imagined.

And I had a front row seat.

As the meeting wrapped up, Ash crossed one leg over the other and said smoothly, "I’ll inform you all when the next meeting is scheduled. Until then—stay alive."

A few awkward chuckles followed. The room began to shuffle with movement. Chairs scraped back, heels clicked against polished floors, and bodies began filtering toward the door. I stood, eager to get away from the strange hum still buzzing beneath my skin.

"Aria," Ash called, just as I reached for the handle. Her voice was smooth and sharp like chilled vodka on a bruised throat.

I turned.

She was smiling. A slow, knowing smile that curled at the corners like a secret. "Stay."

A chill coiled down my spine, but I swallowed it and gave her one just as sharp, lips curling with practiced indifference. "Sure," I said, sliding back into a seat. This time, I sat closer. If we were playing games, I wasn’t about to blink first.

Ash watched me for a beat, her head tilted like she was deciding whether to eat me or invite me to dinner. I broke the silence first, crossing one leg over the other with a click of my heel. "So," I said lightly, "what are you really up to? Suddenly including me in your secret society? Not exactly subtle."

That devilish smile again. It wasn’t a flirt, it was a test. Like she was poking at the edges of me just to see what would crack.

"I told you," she said, voice low, almost lazy as she stood and walked forward. "You weren’t listening."

She perched herself on the edge of the table in front of me. Not beside. Not across. In front. Her long hair clung to her frame like it was afraid of being left behind. "There’s something about you, Aria. Something... dangerous. Addictive, even."

She reached forward and casually toyed with a strand of my hair, twisting it around her fingers like silk. Her touch wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t rough either. It was deliberate.

"Maybe it’s always been there," she mused. "Or maybe... Kael brought it out."

I didn’t flinch. I glared. Hard.

And just like that, her mouth curled with satisfaction. "There it is," she whispered, then laughed softly. "God, you two really are the same."

I could say the same about her.

I sat straighter, eyes narrowing. "What are you playing at?"

Ash leaned in closer, her face now just inches from mine. Our breaths could’ve mingled if I let them. Her perfume was subtle—citrus and smoke.

"You look like the kind of girl who’d spit in a rich man’s face and not regret it." Her voice dropped, a velvet murmur. "I like that. I like you."

Her eyes dropped briefly—to my lips. And when they rose again, they were molten. "I can see why he kept you close."

Of course, I thought, letting a dry smile slip across my lips. Kael. This is about Kael.

I leaned back just slightly, putting space between us but not enough to make her stop.

"If this is about him," I said calmly, "you have nothing to worry about. There’s nothing between us."

Ash’s brow arched, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Oh?" Her voice was sweet—mocking. "Is that the truth now?"

I didn’t answer.

She took that as invitation.

"You know," she said, brushing my hair off my shoulder like we were lovers instead of potential enemies, "the tension between you two could light up this entire building."

My stomach dropped. My skin prickled.

Fuck.

She knew.

Not just guessed. Knew.

Ash pulled back just enough to grin at my silence. "I knew it the second I saw you standing next to him that morning. You’ve been fucking him."

I didn’t deny it.

I didn’t even blink.

Because I knew it didn’t matter. In this room, denial was weakness.

And Ash? Ash could smell weakness like blood in the water.

Ash’s words hung in the air like smoke after a gunshot. You’ve been fucking him.

The silence between us was thick, heavy, suffocating.

But I didn’t flinch.

I didn’t blink.

I just tilted my head and finally spoke. "Okay," I said flatly. "And?"

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