Sweet Hatred-Chapter 243: Threats and guns

I flipped us, carefully, so she was straddling me now. Her thighs shaking, her body flushed and wet and wrecked.

I rubbed her hips. "Come here," I whispered.

She whimpered but obeyed, sinking down onto my cock with a desperate cry.

"Oh God—Kael—" she choked out. "You’re so deep, it’s—fuck—too much."

But she didn’t stop.

She ground against me, slow and deep, her walls squeezing me with every tiny roll of her hips.

And I met her rhythm.

Thrusting up. Holding her waist down.

Biting her collarbone. Her shoulder. The sweet curve of her neck.

She rode me like she couldn’t stop.

Like her body needed it to feel whole.

We moved faster.

Her hips slapped against mine, her hands clutching my chest, her head thrown back as she moaned through another orgasm.

And I came again.

Harder this time.

Grabbing her hips, thrusting up once, twice, spilling deep inside her until I was raw and empty.

She collapsed forward onto me, breathless, trembling, tired.

I rubbed her back slowly, fingers dragging up and down her spine, whispering nothing into her hair. My lips pressed to her temple. She didn’t say anything.

Didn’t need to.

She was already asleep by the time I kissed her shoulder.

I held her a moment longer.

Then gently shifted her off me, wiped her down with a damp towel, and tucked the sheets around her.

I stood.

Got dressed in silence.

And left to handle the monsters waiting for me in chains.

Because they had no idea...

I already fed my hunger.

And I was just getting started.

....

The room was silent when I stepped in. Not echoing. Not tense.

Just... still.

Like death had already decided where it was going.

Fluorescent lights buzzed above, casting a sterile glow across the marble floor. Niko stood to my left, expression unreadable. My men lined the walls, armed, alert, waiting for orders I wouldn’t give.

Because I didn’t need to say much tonight.

The two intruders knelt at the far end, zip-tied, bleeding, heads bowed like they already knew how this ended. One had a broken nose and a busted lip. The other? Shaking. Crying, maybe. I didn’t care to look close enough.

Marci, the head of team Beta security, stood just behind them, faithful, loyal, a perfect soldier and a lying fuck.

I kept walking.

My gun was already in hand, the weight of it familiar, warm, almost. I stopped a few feet in front of them, head tilted slightly as I studied the mess they made of my island. Of my night. Of her safety.

My thumb clicked the safety off.

No fanfare. No threats. I raised the gun and shot the one on the left clean through the skull.

The crack of the shot echoed once, then silence again.

The body dropped with a wet thud. No one flinched.

The other man let out a strangled sob, crawling back like he thought he had somewhere to run. Like the concrete floor beneath him might split open and swallow him whole.

I didn’t look at him.

I turned to Marci. He looked calm. Too calm.

Too composed for someone standing in blood.

I tilted my head slightly. "You said they were caught near the west checkpoint."

He nodded once. "Correct."

I stared at him.

"West checkpoint never logged an entry ping. And the security feed was conveniently on a loop for seventeen minutes."

He didn’t answer.

My smile was slow. "I keep the raw feeds routed to a private server. Did you forget that?"

His jaw twitched.

I walked closer.

"See... the timing was too neat. You left a clean enough trail for the others to chase. Just enough panic. Just enough confusion."

I raised the gun again. Aimed it between his eyes.

His composure finally cracked. "Kael—"

I pulled the trigger.

One clean shot.

Blood sprayed the wall behind him as his body collapsed next to the corpse of the man he helped sneak in.

The second intruder started sobbing now. Loud, shaking, ugly sobs.

I finally looked at him.

Kneeling in his own piss. Eyes wide. Hands twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to pray or scream.

I didn’t shoot him.

Not yet.

I lowered my gun and squatted in front of him, watching the way his chest heaved like a rabbit in a snare.

"You’re going to live a little longer," I said calmly. "You’re going to bleed, and you’re going to scream, and you’re going to tell me who else gave the order."

His breath caught.

"I already know it wasn’t just you."

I leaned closer. "And I want names."

His whole body trembled.

But I didn’t touch him.

Didn’t yell.

I stood, dusted blood from my sleeve, and nodded once to Niko.

"Strip him. No marks. No questions. I want him fully conscious when I get back."

Niko nodded. "Yes, sir."

I looked once more at Marci’s body.

A shame. He’d lasted longer than most.

But everyone breaks eventually.

And anyone who endangers her doesn’t get to walk out breathing.

I checked my watch.

Forty-five minutes since the call.

....

The scent of antiseptic hit me halfway down the south wing of the building, clean, chemical, masking blood. But it was there. I could smell it underneath.

Real. Human. Fresh.

When I entered the room, three medics hovered around the vice president’s slumped body. One was checking his vitals. Another was stitching what was left of his shoulder. The third kept mumbling heart rate numbers that didn’t sound good.

Ash was already there.

Of course she was.

She turned the second she heard my steps, tablet in hand, hair immaculate, expression blank, but her eyes sparkled like a blade unsheathed.

"He’s stable," she said before I could ask. "Two gunshot wounds, one upper scapula, the other near the deltoid. Entry wounds clean, but the bleeding and shock triggered an arrhythmia. His age and preexisting hypertension made things more complicated."

I glanced over the body. His face was pale. His chest rose with effort.

"Will he live?"

She nodded. "Most likely. But it’ll be a long recovery. We’ve started dopamine to stabilize his pressure and are prepping him for emergency evac as soon as it’s cleared."

"Good."

She took a step closer, lowering her voice. "Have you dealt with the threat?"

"I already did," I said flatly. "Sent a message while I was at it."

She didn’t flinch. Just clicked her tablet off and gave me a dry look.

Behind her, the room was a mess of controlled panic, techs whispering, aides pacing, the sound of blood being cleaned from the marble floors.

"Get every medical team we need in here," I barked to the room without taking my eyes off her. "I don’t care if they have to be flown in from Geneva or fucking Baghdad. I want him conscious by sunrise."

The room scattered in motion.

Ash lifted a brow. "You know if the media gets even a hint of this,

"They won’t."

"Kael—"

I turned my full body toward her. "Wipe out every leak. If you’re too chicken to pull the trigger on a few nosy reporters, send them to me. I’ll make them disappear."

She let out a quiet laugh, the kind that was never really laughter. "God, you’re terrifying when you get like this. Bloodthirsty. Clinical. It’s almost cute how sincere and tender you act around your little hostage."

My jaw ticked. "You mean Aria."

She smirked. "Yes. Aria. I assume she’s still locked away in your room while you make sure the rest of the island doesn’t burn?"

"Mind your business."

Her smile stretched wider. "You’re almost making it sound like I’ve fallen in love with her."

I didn’t respond.

She sighed dramatically, eyes drifting toward the glass wall like she was preparing for a scene. "How tragic. My fiancé, so deeply buried inside another woman while we’re practically at the altar. What ever will the society columns say?"

I gave her nothing.

"You’re bad at pretending you give a shit," I said. "Spare me the tragic heiress routine and focus on your own family especially the your little rascal."

"Now that," she purred, "is a loaded statement."

I let my silence speak.

Ash’s expression didn’t shift, but her eyes sharpened slightly. "This is about Sylas, isn’t it?"

"He’s biting more than he can chew."

"And?"

I stepped closer. Close enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to keep her gaze level.

"If a rabbit gets bold enough to sink its teeth into the lion’s kill, it doesn’t matter how fast it runs. The lion always drags it back by the throat."

Ash gave a slow, amused exhale through her nose. "You always were poetic when you were threatening someone."

"I’m not threatening," I said calmly. "I’m promising."

She tilted her head again, smug, unreadable. "Sylas is... persistent. When he wants something, he usually gets it."

"And I’m not something," I snapped, voice cold. "Neither is she."

Ash’s smile turned lazy. Dangerous. "You’re so emotional when it comes to her. It’s almost endearing."

I didn’t reply.

Instead, I turned away and stared through the glass at the medics working on the vice president’s ravaged body.

"I want a name from the intruder within the hour," I muttered. "If I don’t get it, I’ll make one up and burn the whole syndicate down for fun."

Ash chuckled softly behind me. "And people say I’m the dangerous one."

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