Sweet Hatred
Chapter 41: “I think you’re fun.”

Chapter 41: “I think you’re fun.”

I felt it this time, crawling up the side of my face, lingering just long enough to make my skin prickle.

My patience snapped.

"Kael, watch the damn road," I muttered, folding my arms.

A low chuckle. Deep, lazy.

"Relax, firefly. You think I can’t multitask?"

I hated when he called me that. And he knew it but I was just entertainment to him. An impulsive show for his pleasure.

"I think you’re being reckless," I shot back.

He hummed in amusement, shifting gears effortlessly. "Reckless?" His voice was smooth, teasing. "Funny. Was that not what you were being earlier? Throwing yourself at me like that? Though It was quite amusing I must admit."

My pulse jumped.

"I didn’t throw myself at you," I hissed.

"Didn’t you?" He turned his head slightly, a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. "Then what was that little stunt back there? Making your ex jealous? Using me?"

Eric.

His name stabbed into my mind again before I could push it away, and I stiffened.

I hadn’t even thought about it that way. Had I really just used Kael? Had I been so desperate to make that dogshit leave me alone, to erase his hands on my skin that I had... what? Kissed Kael like it meant nothing?

I clenched my jaw. "God, Kael. Not everything is about you."

He made a thoughtful sound. "Mmm. Maybe." A beat of silence, and then—"But that kiss? That was about me."

I went still. Why wouldn’t he let it go?

A flicker of heat shot through my spine, but I ignored it.

He was baiting me.

I could feel it in the lazy drawl of his voice, in the way he adjusted his grip on the wheel like this conversation wasn’t dragging me under.

"Is that why you’re so fidgety, sweetheart?" he asked, voice lowering. "Thinking about it?"

I sucked in a sharp breath, refusing to react.

"I’m not fidgety," I said stiffly.

Kael made a low, amused sound. "No?" Another glance. Another measured pause. "Then why are your thighs squeezed so tight?"

My stomach dropped.

My entire body betrayed me, heat rushing up my neck as I realized—he was right.

The second he pointed it out, I cursed myself for being so obvious.

Kael smirked, and I wanted to wipe it off his face.

"God, you make this too easy," he muttered, shaking his head.

I turned sharply, glaring daggers at him. "You think this is funny?"

"I think you’re fun." His smirk deepened, and something about the way he said it made my pulse race.

I turned back to the window, done with this conversation.

But then, just as we pulled into the parking garage of his building, his voice dipped—low and lethal.

"You started something, Aria." My breath caught in my throat. "And you know me." A pause. A slow, deliberate smirk as he put the car in park. "I don’t like unfinished business."

I hated the way those words coiled in my stomach making my inside clench around nothing.

I hated the way my hands felt too hot in my lap, the way my body was reacting to him despite the mess in my head.

The car went silent.

And then Kael was out, rounding the vehicle with the same easy confidence that made my skin tighten.

I should stay here.

I should just let him leave, let this entire night die before it turned into something worse. But did I really have a choice? I had already signed my dignity away for the money.

And yet—

Kael opened my door, leaning down, his scent everywhere, his voice low.

"You can fight me all you want," he murmured. "But we both know you’re coming upstairs."

My stomach tightened. Because he was right. And I hated that I wanted to.

***

I shouldn’t have come upstairs. I wasn’t in my right mind.

I told myself that the entire elevator ride, standing stiffly beside Kael with his fingers clasped around mine while the heat of his presence sank into my skin, making it impossible to think straight.

The doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the penthouse I had no business walking into.

And yet—

My feet moved before my brain caught up. Stepping inside felt like stepping into another world.

It was vast, effortlessly luxurious, with a wall of glass windows stretching from floor to ceiling, framing the city skyline like a masterpiece. The lights of downtown glittered below, casting a faint glow across the sleek, modern interior.

Dark marble floors. Minimalist furniture. Everything clean, controlled, tailored to a man who never let anything slip out of place.

Except for me.

The door clicked shut behind me, sealing me into the charged silence.

Kael walked past me, peeling off his blazer and tossing it onto a chair like he owned the entire damn world. Like he owned me.

I swallowed hard, refusing to let my eyes follow the way his white shirt stretched over his frame, how the ink on his forearm peeked through his rolled-up sleeves.

"I expected more hesitation," Kael mused, heading toward the open kitchen. "But you walked in pretty damn fast."

The bastard— I tore my gaze away from the skyline. "Maybe I just wanted to sit down."

His smirk was slow, knowing. "Sure, sweetheart. Make yourself comfortable."

I ignored the heat curling at the base of my spine and walked further inside. Everything felt too quiet, except for the soft hum of the city outside.

The leather couch in the center of the living room was huge, the kind of thing that invited sin, and I didn’t trust myself anywhere near it.

So I kept moving.

The kitchen stretched into the open space, ultra-modern, with sleek black cabinets and an island so polished I could see my reflection.

Kael grabbed a bottle from the counter, pouring dark red liquid into two glasses. The sound of the wine glass clinking broke the silence, but his eyes never left me.

I hated that. Hated that he was always watching. Not like Eric had.

Eric had watched me with soft devotion, with admiration that had once made me feel safe. Even though it was fake—

But Kael...

Kael watched me like I was a puzzle he wanted to take apart—like he was already figuring out which piece to pull first.

I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms. "What’s this? Some kind of victory drink?"

Kael chuckled, low and unhurried. He bit his lower lip. "Why? You think I won something tonight?"

I scoffed. "You’re acting like you did."

He stepped closer, one glass in each hand, his smirk razor-sharp. "You’re in my penthouse, firefly. I’d say that’s a win."

My brows furrowed and I stiffened. "This means nothing."

His eyes darkened, the thick brows slightly knitting. "Doesn’t it?"

I refused to let my body react. Refused to acknowledge the way his presence was everywhere, pressing into my skin without him even touching me.

The curve of his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with precision as he spoke, the veins running along his arms—each one a reminder of how they had once held me in place as I let him toy with my pleasure.

His dark green eyes, always watching, never seeming to tire of seeing me unravel like a mad dog. The sleek strands of his hair, a few falling onto his sharp jawline—every detail of him did something to me. My cunt throbbed in anticipation at the price of my self-respect. He was too goddamn good looking for himself and it made me despise him even more.

Kael extended a glass toward me, his fingers grazing mine when I took it. That brief contact sent something hot curling through my stomach. His voice dropped, smooth and lethal.

"Drink up, Aria."

And I did.

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