Sweet Hatred
Chapter 79: Normal

Chapter 79: Normal

Aria

I closed the bedroom door with a soft click and exhaled. Not relief exactly... more like exhaustion’s quieter cousin. The kind that sits behind your ribs and weighs down your shoulders.

Kael was finally in bed. Not passed out across a desk reeking of whiskey. Not slumped in a black suit beside a coffin, looking like death itself. Just... in bed. Warm. Breathing. Present.

And of course, he had to look good while doing it.

His lashes were too dark, too long—curled just enough to make me irrationally annoyed. His hair had fallen over his forehead in soft waves, messy and damp from the shower, framing a jawline that could cut through steel. The bruise on his cheekbone from god-knows-where had already begun to fade, but it only made him look more rugged. More real.

And then, as I tucked the blanket around him, like I wasn’t half a second from losing my mind, he had the audacity to smirk.

Smirk.

Even half-asleep, even with dark circles under his eyes and an IV of sarcasm running through his veins, he found a way to provoke me.

"Let’s cuddle together." He muttered, voice rough from exhaustion. "I want to eat something you cook."

I rolled my eyes so hard I saw colors. Tch! Like I’m his damned girlfriend.

Now, standing alone in his kitchen, I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned.

"Idiot."

The man had the emotional range of a rock and the stamina of a roach—refusing to die no matter how much chaos he put himself through. But... he was Kael again. The version of him that teased just to watch me seethe. The one who lived for pushing buttons and pulling strings and poking at my walls like they were a personal challenge.

It pissed me off how much I’d missed that smug, infuriating gleam in his eyes.

I opened the fridge and stared blankly inside, biting the inside of my cheek.

Of course it was full of overpriced bottled water, alcohol, and whatever leftover monstrosity he or his personal chef last made. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. Something warm, maybe. Something human.

Too bad I couldn’t cook for shit.

Still... I wasn’t about to let him win.

I continued to stare into Kael’s fridge like it had personally offended me, digging to find something that wasn’t maybe depressing. A bottle of ketchup, mustard, something that might’ve been yogurt in a past life, and half a lemon clinging to its last breath.

Figures.

Empty. Like his goddamn soul.

I sighed and shut it. And flinched—because of course, the universe wasn’t done with me yet.

My heart jumped instantly.

Niko was just there. Silent. Staring. Looking like a sleep-deprived gargoyle.

"Jesus," I muttered, pressing a hand to my chest. "Do you always materialize like that?"

His expression didn’t change. "Is he awake?"

"He’s breathing. And not drunk off his ass, so I’d call that progress."

Niko nodded like that somehow made sense. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like he’d been dragged through the same hell Kael just crawled out of.

"You both look like shit," I said, rubbing my arms. "You need food. Real food."

He blinked. "I can make something or call th—"

"No," I cut in, already reaching for him. "Give me your phone."

He hesitated. "Can’t you just give me a list?"

I gave him a look. You know, the look. The one that shut people up in seconds.

He handed the phone over.

"Call me when you get to the store," I said, typing my number in. "I’ll tell you what to get."

"...Okay," he muttered like a man defeated.

"Good boy."

As soon as Niko left, I collapsed onto the nearest chair like my spine gave out. The apartment was too quiet now. No Kael grumbling. No dramatic clinking of empty whiskey bottles. Just me. And the faint echo of what the hell am I even doing here.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Olivia.

She picked up on the second ring. "Aria?"

"Yeah. I need help."

"Oh, you need help," she said, suspiciously slow. "Where are you calling from? Aren’t you at work. "

"None of your business."

"That sounds like code for ’I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be.’"

"Liv."

"Fine, fine," she said, clearly grinning. "What kind of help?"

"Food. What do you cook for Kaleb when he’s sick? Or Michael? Something simple. Preferably not requiring a fire extinguisher."

"Why do you need that information?" I could almost feel the way her eyes narrowed from suspicion.

"Just answer the damn question."

She hummed. "Okay, for Kaleb, I usually make that ginger chicken broth he likes. Or mashed potatoes with honey carrots. But for Michael? He just wants anything that doesn’t taste like death."

"Too complicated. Give me beginner level."

"Okay, okay—start with tea. Mint or ginger. Add some lemon and honey. If you’re feeling wild, throw in some garlic."

"...Why garlic?"

"It’s good for the immune system."

I made a face. "Sounds like a potion, not tea."

"You asked for help, not a Michelin star experience."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a pen, scribbling everything down. "Anything else?"

"Maybe some scrambled eggs. Toast. Banana pancakes if you wanna impress him."

"He should be impressed If I don’t set the kitchen on fire."

She scoffed. "Yeah right so it’s a man you’re cooking for. Hah!"

My head rang. "Yeah whatever just shut the fuck up."

Then, her voice softened. "Hey... I’ve been thinking about Kaleb’s birthday. Maybe we could do something small. He deserves it. We’ve all been through a lot."

I froze. "Olivia. Be serious. We’re still recovering financially. How are we even paying for—"

"You’ve got a job now," she said, too fast. "It’ll be okay."

My stomach twisted. "And you’re just... gonna forget we were days away from being bankrupt again last week?"

Silence. And then. "I know. But we’ve got it all sorted out haven’t we?" she mumbled.

I exhaled slowly. "Fine."

"I’ll send the budget later," she said, a little too brightly. "You’ll see—it’ll be good for Kaleb. For all of us."

"Yeah."

A pause.

"Wait...

So who is the unlucky man you’re making a meal for? Don’t tell me it’s Eric—"

"It could never be that dog shit in a million years so bye, Liv," I muttered and hung up.

I sat down, googling ingredients for meals and writing down a list. Minutes later, Sarah’s name popped up on my screen.

Sarah: Did you come to Mia’s funeral?

I stared at the message for a second before typing:

Me: Yeah. I was there.

Sarah: I saw you. And the company’s CEO. You both looked... close.

I hesitated. Guilt prickled at my neck. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing with Kael. And Sarah—she didn’t deserve to be kept in the dark. And at some point I knew I was going to tell her anyway but it didn’t feel right now.

Me: We were just talking. About work.

Her reply didn’t come immediately. She was typing for a long time. Then—

Sarah: I miss you. We’ve been distant since you got your job back.

That one hurt.

I bit my lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then:

Me: I’m sorry. Work’s been hell. Kael’s more demanding than I thought. Let’s meet up next week? Drinks at the usual place?

She sent a little heart emoji. I smiled—small and tired.

Then my phone rang.

Niko.

...

I ran a finger down the meals Olivia rattled off, quietly muttering the ingredients for each one I had googled under my breath as I leaned against the kitchen counter. "Ginger... garlic... oat flour? What the hell is oat flour...?"

I opened another cabinet—empty. Of course. Another drawer—three corkscrews, a lighter that almost resembled mine but wasn’t, and a packet of breath mints. The man was a menace. I swear, even his pantry looked like it gave up on living.

I let out a breath and set the paper down. "Where the hell does he even keep his pots—"

My body stilled. I didn’t hear him, but I felt him. A presence crawling up my spine like heat. I didn’t turn. I didn’t need to. I knew that kind of silence. Tension wrapped in skin. He was watching.

I rolled my eyes and said, "You suck at sneaking, Kael."

The heat behind me moved. Then came the sound—soft feet against the tile, and the next second, his body was flush against mine, arms circling my waist like they were made for it.

"Was I that obvious, huh?" he murmured, lips grazing the shell of my ear.

His hands wandered low, fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt that I’d borrowed, fingers grabbing and squeezing my boobs, thumbs pressing into my hips as if he needed to remind himself I was real.

"Didn’t I tell you to sleep?" I asked, breath catching when his mouth skimmed down my neck, slow and deliberate.

"I did sleep. Like... ten minutes," he replied between kisses. "Twenty, maybe. Long enough to dream about your legs wrapped around my waist right here."

His mouth was on me again—trailing heat across my skin, stealing logic. One of his hands came up to cup my jaw, tilting my face back as he kissed me properly—hungry, deep, like he was still starving despite everything.

"And I remembered the last time we were in this kitchen..." he whispered against my lips, "you made the sweetest mess, Aria. You remember? Right here." He palmed the curve of my thigh, dragging it up against his hip. "Tried to act like you weren’t loud, but I swear... you begged."

"You bloody—" I gasped, breathless and flushed, gripping the edge of the counter to steady myself. "Kael— We can’t...what if Niko—"

"He’ll call first." He lifted me, settled me onto the cold marble, eyes burning. "And if he doesn’t..." he smirked, trailing kisses along my collarbone, "...he’s seen worse."

My hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, torn between pushing him away and dragging him closer. But God help me, I didn’t want to stop.

His mouth was everywhere.

Hot and hungry, Kael kissed down my chest, pushing the shirt aside like it offended him. I hissed when he took one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it before sucking hard—like he was punishing me for every second I made him wait.

"Kael—God, that’s—" My head fell back, my thighs tightening around his waist.

He groaned low, teeth grazing sensitive skin before biting. Not too hard, just enough to sting and make my back arch into him. My nails scraped down his back, and he moaned like I just touched the center of his soul.

"I want to devour you," he growled, moving to the other breast, licking, sucking—claiming. "And I will."

"Kael, we don’t have time—Niko—"

"Niko’s not my problem right now," he said between kisses, one hand gripping my thigh while the other kneaded my ass like he owned it. "You are."

My heart was pounding. My skin was on fire. I was so close to losing my mind in the best possible way and then—

Click.