We had just landed on Isla Fierro.
The moment the blades of the chopper began to slow, I unbuckled and stepped out, craving the sharp bite of sea air more than anything. The humid wind greeted me with a wild force, whipping my hair in every direction like a storm set loose.
I turned toward the gust, letting it wash over me—and there it was.
The vast, breathtaking stretch of ocean shimmered beneath the sunlight. Deep sapphire bled into brilliant turquoise near the shorelines, waves softly kissing the island's untouched sands. It was the kind of view that made silence feel like music.
My phone buzzed in my hand. I answered.
"Allana," I said, already anticipating her tone.
"Vyn, where the hell are you?" Her voice was tight with suspicion—clearly, she'd caught on that something was off.
"I left," I replied with a breezy sigh, eyes scanning the beach for anything—or anyone—unexpected. "The event was painfully dull. Still hadn't started. I figured I'd get a head start on my vacation plans."
As I spoke, I gestured toward Rohan, signaling him to take care of our guest. It was time to unload the cargo—our precious cargo.
This island, Isla Fierro, was something my father and I had acquired just last year. A spontaneous purchase from a wealthy land baron who decided to part with one of his lesser-loved private islands. He hadn't expected someone to actually buy it. But my father did, and when I first set foot here, I fell in love with it. So much so, that I turned it into a sanctuary.
Now, it was mine.
Completely private.
Off-limits to anyone but me, my staff, and the chosen few I deemed worthy—or dangerous enough—to be brought here.
The island stretches across six hectares of oval perfection. Its powdery white sand glows under the sun. A single hill rises at its center, and atop it sits the glass-and-stone house we built: modern, elegant, and boasting panoramic views of the surrounding seas. Below the hill, closer to the beach, there's a secondary villa—meant for guests, though rarely used. A sleek yacht is moored off the west shore, and a pair of jet skis bob on gentle waves nearby.
Suddenly, a loud thud rang out from behind me.
I didn't even flinch.
Must've dropped the poor thing. Clumsy bastard.
Kael. The man who should have been announcing his engagement in front of flashing cameras. Now, face-first in the sand of an island no one knew we were on.
"Are you absolutely sure, Vyn? Kaelvorn Thalraven never showed up. His fiancée's family is reportedly frantic! It's already blowing up on the news," Allana's voice rang with concern, thick with unease.
I smiled faintly, folding my arms across my chest as the sea breeze brushed against my skin. Across from me, Belle stood patiently with some of my luggage, her questioning gaze obvious despite her silence. She was somewhere in her forties, her thin hair streaked with black and gold—an odd, fading elegance that suited her. With a simple nod, I gave her permission to place the bags inside.
"Maybe he just doesn't like his fiancée," I said lightly, a short laugh escaping me. It was sarcasm, but Allana—bless her overly analytical brain—didn't catch the joke.
I could almost see her furrowed brows from here.
Behind me, the rotor blades of the chopper groaned into a slowing spin. From the other side of the hill, I heard Rohan's voice—firm and composed—ordering the men to take the "guest" down to the house. He was to be kept in my father's former office, which, for now, would be mine.
I turned away from the noise, facing the sea again, allowing the calm to wrap around me. The ocean didn't ask questions. Unlike Allana.
"He was at the hotel, Vyn," she pushed, her voice more pointed now. "Everyone knew he was supposed to be there for the engagement party."
I exhaled sharply, one hand resting on my hip. Allana knew me far too well. It was becoming harder and harder to lie to her. And right now, I wasn't sure I wanted to.
"So what exactly are you trying to say, Allana?" My tone sharpened. "That I had something to do with him vanishing into thin air? I don't know what happened to the man—and frankly, I couldn't care less."
There was a pause. Silence, just for a heartbeat.
Then she reminded me, cool and accusing:
"You didn't care? Just the other day, you told me you needed his help."
I clenched my jaw. Her memory was irritatingly precise.
"He didn't want to be involved," I shot back. "So why the hell should I care now?"
"Well, because you told me he was your only option! Vyn, please—tell me you didn't do something insane this time. You can trust me, you know that. I won't breathe a word to anyone, but… I really hope you didn't do anything you'd regret."
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the weight of her words settle over me like fog. Of course she'd think that. I've given her more than enough reasons to worry in the past. But this? This wasn't a petty scheme or one of my usual dramatic stunts.
This time, I'd crossed a line—a sharp, blood-red one.
And I wasn't ready to confess it. Not yet.
Especially when what I'd done was dangerously close to a crime.
My mind began to spiral with all the what ifs.
What if I couldn't convince him?
What if he refused, no matter what I said?
Would I have to put a gun to his head just to make him say yes?
No. I wouldn't need to go that far.
I know men like him—powerful, proud, but deeply calculative. If I push the right buttons, I will make him yield. I always get what I want. Eventually.
I drew a slow, measured breath, pushing the anxiety back into its cage.
"Allana," I said gently, "I'll call you soon, okay? I'm a little tied up right now. I don't think I have the energy to talk about the so-called stupid things you think I've done."
"Alright," she replied with hesitant concern. "But call me back, Vyn. Please. Are you at your condo? I can come over—"
"No. I'm at the ancestral house. It's quieter here." I softened my tone, letting the lie fall like silk. "I'll call you soon. Love you."
"Love you too."
I ended the call and stared out at the sea again, watching the ripples catch the dying light of the afternoon.
By now, Allana was probably piecing together a dozen wild theories in that brilliant head of hers. And though I trust her with my life, I wasn't ready to carry her judgment on top of my own conscience. Not yet.
She'd say the right thing, the moral thing—the kind of truth that gnaws at you in the dead of night. But I couldn't afford that right now. I needed to stay angry. I needed this fire in my chest to burn everything in my way.
I needed it to save everything I was about to lose.
I descended the staircase, my heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors as I made my way to the room where I was certain our "guest" was being held—surrounded, of course, by my most trusted bodyguards.
The house was a paradox—modern in structure, yet dressed in vintage elegance. Though made of concrete, the walls had been paneled with rich hardwood to mimic the warmth of an old-world estate. The furnishings were pristine and new, but styled with that deliberately aged charm—ornate details, deep hues, and soft, inviting curves. Each of the five bedrooms wore wallpaper that reflected my whims—romantic florals in one, moody damask in another. My father's office, though, remained the soul of the home, its walls matching the rest of the house in aged wood and refined polish.
I pushed open the heavy office door.
The familiar glow of twin lamps bathed the room in golden light. They stood like sentinels on either side of a grand portrait—of me. Below the painting, a stone fireplace yawned dark and cold, waiting for the chill of night to make it come alive.
And there, in the middle of the room, bathed in the light of the tall glass windows behind him, was a man—kneeling.
He was still in his coat and tie, his hands bound behind him, a black blindfold covering his eyes. A picture of silent defiance, or perhaps sheer disbelief.
My brow creased.
I swept my gaze across the room. Five of my bodyguards stood in line, straight and still as statues, awaiting my command. The other three were scattered around the island, posted like shadows—unseen but always present.
I stepped closer.
The man remained motionless, barely even flinching at my presence. My eyes narrowed as I tried to study his features—what little I could see of them.
Was that… Kaelvorn Thalraven?
He looked... different.
The Kael I remembered was tall, lean, sharp in both words and appearance. His signature glasses framed a face that was always cool, calculated—impossible to read.
This man, though...
One step closer.
My heels stopped just inches from his knees.
Did we capture the wrong man?
My heart thundered in my chest as I took those final steps toward the man on his knees, drawn by the need to confirm what I already suspected.
I tilted my head, bent slightly, and there—there it was—the familiar curve of his lips. That arrogant, infuriating line I'd stared at far too often in the past. I glanced at Rohan, whose unreadable nod told me everything I needed to know.
Yes, it was him.
And yet, something in me refused to believe it.
Shouldn't he be panicking by now? Crying for help? Raging or begging or at least demanding answers?
But no. He sat still, blindfolded, silent. As if he'd been expecting me. As if he knew.
Could he?
Would he even recognize my voice?
No... I hadn't spoken to him in years. He wouldn't. He couldn't.
Unless, of course, guilt has a way of whispering my name in his head lately. After all, he did owe me. Gravely.
"Good evening, Mr. Thalraven..." I purred, my tone velvet with mock civility.
I glanced again at Rohan, warning laced in my eyes. If they got the wrong man—if this wasn't him—someone was going to bleed. But those lips, that straight, aristocratic nose, the chiseled line of his jaw... I knew that face. He had changed, yes, but I would know him anywhere.
He had grown broader, more filled out, muscle where there had once been only lithe grace. And when I took a step to the side, studying him from a different angle, the sharp lines of his body—confined in that expensive suit—spoke of strength, control… and an irritating kind of male elegance.
Oh, he had gained confidence, no doubt about it. And maybe a personal trainer too.
"Oops, my mistake," I added, letting a teasing smirk play on my lips. "Engineer Thalraven. That is what they call you now, isn't it?"
Still, he didn't move. Not a twitch. Just silence and breathing.
I let my gaze drop—shoulders, chest, arms… those thick, flexed thighs beneath him… and, well—some things don't stay subtle.
So this is who he's become?
Kaelvorn Thalraven: arrogant as ever, but no longer the boy I once knew.
Now he was a man.
And he was mine—for now.
Ah. No wonder the fiancée looked so polished. She came from a well-bred family herself. When you have wealth and a pretty face, the world just hands you everything on a silver platter, doesn't it?
The smile on my lips faded.
"I'm sorry to disrupt your day, but I really need you to hear my business proposal—clearly and completely."
His jaw tightened, the muscles working beneath his skin in quiet defiance. The shift was subtle, but it sent a flicker of unease down my spine. I halted mid-step, now standing directly in front of him. From this angle, the light caught the sharp lines of his face—older now, more sculpted, more… man.
What was he now? Twenty-nine? Thirty?
Time certainly had its way of reshaping people.
"And since you chose to ignore every letter I sent you, here you are now. kneeling in front of me, with no choice but to listen—carefully—and think twice about what I'm proposing."
Still, not a word from him. Silent as stone.
I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to suppress the familiar rush of frustration.
It still stung—the way he dismissed me, handed back my desperate plea for help like it was nothing. Like I was nothing.
How dare he.
"But first…" I said slowly, letting the silence stretch between us, "I'd like to ask you something."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice just enough to let it curl like smoke in the air between us.
"Do you know who I am, Engineer Thalraven?"
A mocking chuckle escaped him—low, dry, and completely infuriating. My spine straightened instinctively as I watched him tilt his chin slightly, tongue grazing his lower lip like he was savoring something. Maybe his own arrogance.
"Just tell me what the hell you want, Miss Draventhall," he said, his voice like gravel laced with amusement.
And there it was—the wall. Still standing, still tall.
But now… he had no idea how hard I was willing to break it down.
A sly smile curved my lips as I took slow, deliberate steps toward him. My heels echoed on the hardwood floor like soft threats. I glanced over my shoulder at Edward and gave him a subtle nod.
Prepare the gun.
He understood at once, his hand already slipping beneath his jacket to rest on the cold steel at his side.
I leaned in close, close enough to breathe in the faint scent of cologne still lingering on his skin, and whispered near his ear, letting my voice drip with condescension and something darker.
"You really are a genius, aren't you?"
His jaw tightened again, the muscles rippling as he turned his head to the side, away from me. That made me smile.
"Still reacting to me, Kaelvorn? I must admit, I missed this—how easily I can get under your skin."
Still, no words. Just silence and that barely-contained tension in his body.
I tilted my head, my tone softening into a mockery of sweetness.
"Have you fallen so in love with your little fiancée that you couldn't even lend yourself to me for a little while?"
My eyes dropped to his lips—still, quiet, stubborn—and the urge to provoke him stirred inside me like a slow burn. I wouldn't go as far as I wanted, not with my guards watching. But... a kiss on the cheek wouldn't hurt, would it?
I brushed my lips gently against his cheek—soft, fleeting, just enough to make a point. He didn't flinch. He didn't even lean away. He just sat there, bound and blindfolded, allowing me that one act.
Or so I thought.
I leaned in again, this time closer, intending to tease. But just as I moved, he shifted—subtle, calculated—and his lips almost caught mine.
I straightened abruptly, startled. My breath caught in my throat.
His brow arched beneath the blindfold, and then—God help me—a wicked smile played at his mouth.
I mouthed the words What the fuck as disbelief washed over me.
Thank heavens for that blindfold.
"Miss Draventhall," his voice drawled, deep and shameless, "why don't you kiss me on the lips instead? I might listen better."
I snapped my fingers toward Edward, and in a heartbeat, the barrel of a pistol was pressed against Kaelvorn's temple.
"That's what you get," I said coldly.
He stopped speaking—but the smirk remained, carved into his mouth like he knew something I didn't. And for some reason, I couldn't smile back. The unease snuck into my chest like a whisper I couldn't silence.
"That would make you listen more, wouldn't it?" My voice trembled despite my efforts to stay composed.
He didn't respond. Silence can mean many things, and for once, I hoped it meant surrender.
I straightened, brushing invisible dust from my dress. Time for games was over.
"I'll release you," I said, stepping back, my words sharp and measured, "but on my terms. If you refuse, you'll remain here on this island, locked away until you change your mind. If you agree to the business proposal, I'll let you go—but you'll do it my way. You'll work with me, under my watch. And if you even think about going to the authorities…" I tilted my head, gaze narrowing, "you'll be dead before you can finish the sentence."
His smile faded. Though blindfolded, his jaw tensed, and the storm rising in his expression became unmistakable.
"You already know what I'm offering," I continued. "It means leaving your precious fiancée behind… for me. Unless, of course, you're willing to share what I need without the need for vows. I'd prefer that, honestly."
His voice turned to ice.
"Is this truly the only way left for you, Miss Draventhall?"
My blood boiled.
"And why the hell do you care how I get what I want—"
"If you'd just ask Ivan, I'm sure he'd help you. Your company is sinking, Vyn, and if you keep trying to breathe life into a corpse, you'll go down with it. Let it die. Start fresh with—"
"I didn't ask for your advice," I cut him off, my voice sharp as a blade. "I have a business proposal, Thalraven. That's the only thing on the table. The only question is whether you'll accept it. Don't mistake this for a debate."
His jaw clenched again, a muscle twitching beneath the blindfold. The air between us bristled with defiance. I saw the tension in his biceps, the way his arms subtly shifted. Was he testing his binds? Calculating an escape? I nodded once to Edward, and he stepped forward, pressing the gun harder against Kael's temple.
"Is it really so difficult?" I asked, circling him like a predator with silk-covered claws. "All I'm asking for is a share. But of course, your precious family will wonder why you're suddenly being so generous to someone like me. That's why I'm offering a solution—one that works for both of us. A marriage of convenience. Strategic, not romantic. Your fiancée, unfortunately, will have to step aside."
"You really believe you can take anything you want by force, don't you?" he bit out, his voice simmering with restrained fury.
Good. Let it burn.
"This wouldn't be by force if you had just responded to my letter with a bit of reason," I replied, almost sweetly. "But you ignored it. You ignored me."
He laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. "Your idea is absurd. Everyone knows your company's drowning in debt, and it's because of your father's reckless legacy. The world knows it, Vyn. Why can't you? Why not accept the truth and try to make things right instead of digging deeper into this madness?"
"Everything will be fine," I said with a mocking smile. "If you just do exactly what I say, Kael."
Again, that jaw tensed. I could almost see the thoughts racing in his head, violent and raw. If he were free, I had no doubt he'd punch me square in the face.
Too bad for him… he won't get the chance. Not while I'm in control.
"Do you love her that much? Enough to turn down everything I'm offering you?" My voice dipped low, a breath away from pleading, though I masked it with a bitter edge. "This could've been a simple agreement. A clean negotiation. If only you had answered my message instead of throwing it into the void like I meant nothing."
I began to walk again, circling him, my heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor as I shifted to see him from another angle. God. He had changed. Still tall, yes—but now he carried himself with a rugged weight, a fullness in his frame, the kind only time and grit could sculpt into a man.
He had matured. Remarkably so.
"Put your shares into my company," I said, the words like smoke from my lips—measured, persuasive. "That's all I need. Enough to revive operations, cover the debts my father left behind… and while I'm at it, work on securing his release. He doesn't belong in prison."
I moved toward the fireplace, my gaze drawn to the portrait hanging above it—a painting of myself, painted in power and distance. My expression in it was cold, aloof. It felt accurate. Painfully so.
"You can do this," I continued, turning back to him, my voice now lower, more intimate. "With SHEV Holdings and THI practically in your hands, you could twist the world in your favor. Just supply my estates. Let the illusion breathe. And just like that—we're done."
He remained kneeling beneath the tall glass window, hands bound, blindfold still in place, Edward's gun pressed near his temple. The rest of my guards stood silent, watching me like statues. And yet in that moment, I felt the most alone.
A sharp ache bloomed behind my ribs.
Pity—no, grief—for myself.
I swallowed hard as the weight of what I was doing crashed into me again. All this, everything I'd orchestrated, was to save one man. My father. The only parent I had left. The only family who mattered.
I had loved him fiercely, blindly. After Mother died in that car crash, Ivan said Father spiraled into gambling, casinos… debt. I didn't believe it at first. I didn't see it. He was always away, I was always tucked in by nannies and watched over by bodyguards. My world was school, competitions, architecture books I devoured like candy.
I left the Philippines when I was finally free to choose my path. I chose architecture. I left him behind. He kept gambling.
And this… this is what it led to.
And I would never—ever—let the world witness my fall. Not now. Not ever. They will never see me broken. I was born to be on top, and that's exactly where I'll stay. Let my father waste his time in every godforsaken casino from here to Macau—I'll make sure the money never runs out. I'll build the empire myself if I have to.
"So tell me, Kael," I asked, my voice sharp as glass, "are you in, or not?"
"No," he said, firm and unforgiving.
My jaw clenched so tightly I nearly tasted blood. I didn't come all this way, didn't throw away every ounce of pride, just to be refused. Not when my father sits rotting in a prison cell. I need to act. I need this done. But if Kael wanted to make this hard, then so be it.
"Edward," I said coldly.
Without hesitation, Edward pressed the muzzle of his pistol harder against Kael's temple.
"I'll ask you again. Will you agree to this, Engineer Thalraven?"
"No," he repeated, with even more weight, more defiance.
He was testing me. Pushing every boundary I had left.
I gave Rohan a nod—a silent command to take Kael away. Rohan looked at Kaelvorn, then back to me, hesitation flashing in his eyes.
"Ma'am?" he asked, uncertain.
"Put him in his cell," I snapped.
He still didn't move.
"Rohan! Put him in his cel!" I repeated annoyingly.
But before a single footstep could be taken, Kaelvorn did something I hadn't anticipated.
In one swift motion, he slipped free from his restraints. With practiced ease, he yanked the blindfold from his eyes. In the same breath, before I could scream at my utterly useless guards, Edward—the man I trusted with my life—turned the gun on me.
Kaelvorn Thalraven stood tall, staring me down with eyes like storm clouds ready to break. His entire frame blocked the sunlight streaming in through the grand windows, casting a looming shadow over me as he took a step forward. Then another.
"Rohan!" I screamed. But Rohan didn't move to defend me—he moved to bind me.
"What the hell is happening?! Rohan? Edward?!"
My voice echoed through the room, wild and desperate as I fought against their hands, their silence stabbing me deeper than any betrayal I had ever known.
And still, Kael came closer.
His face was like stone, unyielding, carved from anger and control. His thick brows drew together, his lips a hard line, his steps measured and slow like a lion stalking prey that had dared to challenge the king.
"What the hell are you doing!?" I shouted. "What is the meaning of this?! How dare you!"
Fury boiled in my veins. I felt it rise and twist until it spilled from me in tears—not of sorrow, but of rage. Rage for being cornered. For losing control. For watching everything I fought for slip through my fingers.
And yet, beneath that anger, fear flickered.
Because in that moment, I realized something terrifying: I was no longer the one holding the power.
"You... You planned this, didn't you? How did you—"
My voice cracked under the weight of disbelief.
How did he convince Rohan? Edward? All my guards? Were they all in on this? Even Belle? My head spun at the betrayal twisting in every corner of the room.
"What the hell do you want from me?!" I screamed, my voice raw and shrill as the truth clawed its way into my throat.
Is he calling the police? God, no—am I really going to jail?
I thrashed in place, yanking my wrists with such force they began to burn against the restraints. I kicked at the men holding me, and for a moment, it worked—some of them stumbled back, startled.
"Tie her feet too," Kael commanded, his voice sharp as a blade.
Fuck him! What the hell is this?!
"You bastard! You absolute piece of shit! Fuck you, Kaelvorn Thalraven!" I spat his name like venom, screaming it again and again like a curse.
"Rohan, tape her goddamn mouth!" Kael roared, his patience snapping. The sound of his voice silenced the entire room—including me.
He pulled off his coat and ran a hand through his hair like a man utterly done with the weight of the day. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the fury simmering just beneath his skin. And still, he didn't look at me like a villain would. He looked at me like something far more dangerous: a man who meant every word, every decision, every strike of vengeance.
Rohan stepped forward and pressed a strip of black duct tape across my lips, silencing the curses still boiling inside me. I continued to fight, my body trembling with rage, but my words became nothing more than muffled fury.
Kael turned back to me. His eyes—once warm, curious, maybe even amused—were now as cold and merciless as polished steel.
"Take her to her cell," he said.
If I could've screamed, I would've shattered glass. Damn you, Kael. Call the cops! Drag me to prison! I don't care! I'd rather rot than see his face again. I swear to every god that if I ever get out of here, I'll destroy every one of them. Those traitorous guards. And Belle—if she had anything to do with this—I'll burn her world to the ground.
Just wait.
I will never forget this.