Sweet Hatred
Chapter 97: Poison

Chapter 97: Poison

KAEL

I didn’t look back after kissing her.

Didn’t give her a second glance as I slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and pulled away from the curb.

I couldn’t afford to. The roads blurred past me, the engine roaring low and mean under my hand. I kept my focus locked ahead, even though my mind kept flashing back to her — the way her lips had parted in shock, the way her fingers had twitched like she almost chased after me.

Almost.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel until the leather creaked. That kind of weakness could get a man killed. A few stolen seconds of pretending, imagining her in my house, in my bed, wearing my ring, was all it took to remind me why emotions were a liability.

I wasn’t built for dreaming. I was built for conquest. For survival. And right now, there was a fucking empire to run.

The XE tower loomed into view, cutting into the sky like a blade.

I drove the car into the underground garage, parked in my private slot, and killed the engine. For a moment, I just sat there, breathing in the silence, willing whatever softness was still clinging to me to die.

When I stepped into the lobby, every suit and secretary scrambled to look busy. Good. They knew better. I checked the time barely past mid-day and headed straight for the boardroom. There were still sharks in the water today, and I didn’t have the luxury of distraction.

I barely had time to peel off my jacket before I was dragged into a board meeting. The doors slammed against the walls as I shoved them open. Every head inside snapped toward me, a sea of tailored suits and fake smiles.

I didn’t spare them a second glance. The conference room smelled like fear and desperation, a scent I hated almost as much as the idiots breathing it.

I sat at the head of the table, my expression carved from stone, while a parade of executives droned on about projections and quarterly growth. I could see it in their eyes. Nobody said it out loud, but they were all praying I wouldn’t rip them apart today.

Maybe if Aria’s face wasn’t still branded into the back of my mind, I would’ve. Maybe I still would. I hadn’t decided yet.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I said, voice low and cutting, "the next one of you who opens your mouth without an idea worth more than my fucking coffee, I’ll have you cleaning bathrooms in our third-rate subsidiaries by Monday."

A ripple of fear went through the room. Even the ones who thought they were safe shifted in their chairs. I smiled but It didn’t reach my eyes.

"Speak carefully," I added, voice dropping to a near whisper. "You’re one breath away from being replaced."

The murmuring stopped. Good. I didn’t come here to babysit.

The quarterly numbers were a joke — inflated, padded with projections that even a child could poke holes through.

And now they had the nerve to sit here, talking about marketing strategies and risk mitigation like it would fix the rot crawling up the spine of the empire. I was about to tear them a new one when the doors opened again.

Every molecule of air shifted. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was. The air told me before my eyes confirmed it—the weight of it, the sneer of authority slithering in without apology.

A tall figure strolled in like he owned the place, silver hair slicked back, a cane tapping lightly against the marble floor — not because he needed it, but because he liked the sound it made when people held their breath around him.

My father.

The room went dead silent.

He didn’t look at anyone but me, didn’t need to. He was a storm in a custom suit, all effortless menace wrapped in a grandfatherly smile. The board members stumbled over themselves to stand, murmuring greetings, but he waved them off like they were gnats.

"Meeting’s over," he said, tone light.

I watched the suits scatter, some grabbing their files, some leaving their laptops behind in their rush to get out. Just like that. Without a fucking hint of shame. When the last one slipped out the door, my father chuckled low in his throat and turned to me.

I didn’t smile. I didn’t bother standing to greet him. Respect wasn’t something he earned from me anymore — he’d pissed that away years ago. I leaned back against the table, arms crossed over my chest.

"What the hell do you want?" I asked, voice slicing the air between us.

He only smiled wider, tapping his cane once against the floor.

"Is that any way to greet your old man, Kael?"

"You don’t show up unless something’s about to catch fire. So tell me — what the fuck did you burn this time?"

"I thought I’d drop by," he said, sauntering into the room like he owned it—and he did, in ways most of the world would never understand. "See how my prodigal son is running the empire."

"Cut the bullshit," I snapped. "You don’t show up unless you want something."

I didn’t bother hiding my irritation as I shoved my hands into my pockets, staring at the old man standing across from me like he was another problem to solve.

The boardroom still smelled of fear, stale coffee, and fake ambition. He took his time, wandering toward the window, gazing out like he owned the skyline itself. Typical.

"You’ve got five minutes," I said, voice clipped. "After that, I’m walking."

He chuckled under his breath, like I was a boy stamping his feet instead of the man who ran his empire better than he ever did. His cane tapped against the floor once, sharp and deliberate.

"You were always impatient," he said without looking at me. "But that’s why you’re the only one I trust with this."

Flattery from him tasted like poison. If he was buttering me up, it meant whatever he was about to ask for wasn’t business as usual — it was going to be ugly.

"cut the build up" I said. "What is it this time?"

He finally turned to face me, the easy smile dropping from his face like a mask sliding off. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto mine.

"There’s a little problem," he said, voice low, almost amused. "And I need you to clean it up for me."