Sweet Hatred -
Chapter 29: Dignity
Chapter 29: Dignity
KAEL
The amber liquid burned as it slid down my throat, settling into a slow warmth in my chest. I leaned back against the leather booth, my fingers idly spinning the glass between them.
The dim glow of the VVIP section cast shadows over the bottle of Macallan in front of me, expensive but unimpressive. My phone sat next to it, the screen still lit with her reply.
’How noble of you to volunteer yourself, but I’m good.’
A scoff pushed past my lips. Aria had a mouth on her, I’d give her that.
I could reply. Something sharp. Something to remind her who she was talking to. Or I could let her sit with and give her the space she needed.
A part of me—it was fucking annoying to admit—was already anticipating her next move. Would she ignore me? Would she send another text?
My fingers tapped against the rim of my glass, irritation simmering beneath the surface. Since when did I hesitate over a damn message?
I exhaled, pressing my tongue against my molars. This feeling—this restless fucking itch—was too familiar. It reminded me of long nights in the barracks, the weight of my rifle in my lap, waiting for a signal, waiting for movement. Anticipation. Back then, it was life or death. It was him—
Now? It was a woman with a sharp tongue and eyes that burned with hostility.
I shook it off, rolling my shoulders. I wasn’t that man anymore.
Then, Mia walked in.
She moved like she owned the place, long legs accentuated by a sleek black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her gaze found me instantly, lips curling into a smirk as she approached.
"I was starting to think I’d never see you again, boss."
Mia’s voice carried that signature sultry lilt as she sauntered toward me. She didn’t wait for an invitation before sliding onto the leather sofa beside me, her smirk brimming with confidence.
"I said Thursday," I answered, taking another slow sip of whiskey.
Mia had been convenient—a body within reach when I wanted something similar to Aria. I never told her exactly what I was looking for, because I knew she’d try to mimic it, and that was worse than not finding it at all. Still, she had been enough for a time. We had an understanding: no attachments. The moment love got involved, it ended. And she broke that rule.
"Yes," she purred, shifting closer. "And I missed you, Kael." Her fingers trailed down my chest.
I exhaled, half-lidded eyes dragging lazily over her face, her body. She leaned in, her perfume thick in the air, her intentions obvious. She was trying to seduce me. Again. She was so easy to read, I almost pitied her.
Almost.
"I called you here to end our deal."
Mia froze, her hand stilling on my chest. "What?" The smirk vanished. "Why?"
Her voice had lost its usual smoothness, sharpening with panic. Her brows furrowed as the color drained from her face. "We were fine—why are you suddenly—"
"You broke our agreement." I set my glass down with a soft thud. "I warned you. No falling in love."
She stayed silent, teeth sinking into her lower lip. She didn’t even try to deny it. She knew it would be pointless. The faint sheen in her eyes told me everything.
And then—
"Why does it matter?" she whispered, voice unsteady.
The attempt at seduction resumed. Her fingers skated lower, her breath ghosting over my skin.
"You still want my body, don’t you?" she murmured, leaning in closer. "Then why does my heart matter?"
I reached for my glass, but she beat me to it, snatching it from my hand and downing the rest in one smooth motion. A silent challenge. Almost impressive.
But she wasn’t Aria. And that was the problem.
"You need me, Kael." She slipped a strap off her shoulder, her smirk creeping back in.
I tilted my head slightly, watching with detached amusement as she crawled between my thighs. Slowly, deliberately, the second strap slid down, and her dress pooled at her waist. Her bare chest heaved as she gazed up at me, expecting something—desire, praise, permission.
She got none.
Her fingers reached for my zipper, her lips brushing against where my cock pressed against my slacks. She flicked her gaze up again, waiting for a reaction.
I gave her a bored stare.
Because truthfully, if someone was going to be on their knees for me, I’d rather it be Aria—obediently waiting, begging to take me down her throat like a good little slut.
But Mia didn’t know when to stop.
Her gaze flickered up at me, dark with lust and determination, her lips parting slightly as her teeth grazed the metal of my zipper. She bit down and tugged, a teasing smirk playing on her lips as if she knew exactly how to unravel me.
I let her. Just for a moment.
Then, with a slow exhale, I reached down and cupped her face in my hand, my thumb running over her cheekbone.
"Cute," I murmured, my voice smooth and deep.
Her smirk widened, confidence flaring in her eyes as she leaned further into my touch.
"I told you," she purred. "No one can handle you like I do." Her fingers trailed up my thighs, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "You’re rough. And cruel. You need someone who knows how to be a good girl for you."
I tilted my head slightly, watching her. If only she knew.
I already found her.
She was fiery and stubborn, so damn good at making me lose control. She hated me with everything she had—and I craved her for it. Aria was already perfect, already mine in ways she didn’t even realize yet.
Mia, on the other hand—
"Enough." My voice cut through the space between us.
Her movements halted, her hands still resting on my thighs. But her lips parted in protest, as if she still had a chance, as if I’d suddenly change my mind.
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice. "Get up, fix your dress, and walk out of here with your dignity still intact."
Mia swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. For the first time, a flicker of doubt crossed her expression. And then—
"Is it Aria?"
Her voice was quiet, but the sharp edge was unmistakable.
I didn’t answer immediately. Just watched her, my expression unreadable.
Her lips pressed together, her jaw tightening. "Its her, isn’t it?"
Still, I said nothing.
Because she already knew the answer.
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