I downed my glass of vodka in one swift gulp, the sharp burn of the liquid matching the raw anger that was etched clearly across my face.
As I swallowed, I couldn't help but close my eyes for a moment, envisioning the battles that awaited me; battles I would have to face alone, without anyone by my side to share the burden or lend a hand.
The weight of my thoughts hung heavily in the air, thickening the tension in the room.
It was then that Amanda entered, having been brought in by June and Hab.
The moment our eyes met, I could see the sheer hatred radiating from her. There was no mistaking it; she despised me.
"What's the meaning of all this, Killian? You've put me under house arrest for three days now! You've cut me off from my family, and you're clearly crossing your boundaries!" she yelled, her voice rising in a mixture of shock and fury.
For the first time, I noticed a glimmer of tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
But despite the emotional storm she was trying to unleash, I remained unfazed. I had learned long ago that the Michaelson family was notorious for their cunning nature and ruthlessness.
They were not to be trusted.
"You're paying for your father's crimes," I said, a wicked smirk creeping onto my lips as I delivered the unyielding truth.
"What did my father do?" she countered, her tone defiant and stubborn, refusing to acknowledge any wrongdoing on her father's part.
"Your father conspired with a band of traitors to bring down my father and my paternal grandparents. Their actions weren't just a betrayal; they were a calculated assault on my family," I stated matter-of-factly, watching her reaction closely.
"My father would never do anything like that! He's not a bad man. I know he's a man of dignity!" Amanda clung to her defense, her convictions unwavering, which only fueled the fire of my anger.
I could feel my blood boiling at her naïveté. How could she be so blind to the truth?
"Very well then," I said, my voice dropping to a slow, measured tone that oozed menace.
"You'll either do as I say, or I will take down every member of your family, one by one." It was a threat and a promise, and I could see the flicker of fear and devastation in her eyes.
That glint of panic gave me a twisted sense of satisfaction; it was a small victory in the midst of all my turmoil.
"What has gotten into you, Killian? Please, believe me," she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice as she tried to reach out to me, her hand shaking slightly in the air as if to connect.
"I didn't ask you to touch me," I snapped, stepping back instinctively as if her gesture could physically repel my resolve.
A slight smile crept across my face as a more sinister thought crossed my mind.
"How about we teach you a little lesson, huh?"
"Killian, please stop this," she continued, her pleas growing more frantic, almost repulsive.
But in that moment, her vulnerability only increased my resolve to hold the power.
I couldn't wait to see how far I was willing to go to make her understand that in this twisted game, I was in control.
"To fulfill your punishment, you must give me a child.
It's absolutely essential, or I will eliminate the entire Michaelson lineage," I commanded, my tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"What? That's impossible! My father hasn't done anything wrong, and I know it.
Just give me three days to prove his innocence!" she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.
"I'm afraid I can only allow you 24 hours. During this time, four guards will be monitoring your every move," I replied curtly.
"Only 24 hours? Just one single day?" Her voice quivered, clearly filled with anxiety and disbelief at the impossibility of what I was asking.
"Yes, one day, starting at 7 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning," I stated firmly, ensuring she understood the gravity of the situation.
I watched as she quickly retreated to her room, the weight of her predicament hanging heavily in the air.
Turning to June and Hab, I issued my command,
"Keep a close watch on her; I don't trust her motives."
"Understood, Boss," they responded in unison, their expressions serious as they moved off to carry out their orders.
Later that day, I received an unexpected message from Will, a good friend of mine who worked in the news publishing industry.
"Juliana is back," he texted, and my heart raced at the mention of her name.
I sat upright, combing through the news reports repeatedly, each detail igniting a storm of memories.
Juliana Washington was the heiress of the prestigious Washington family, and once, not too long ago, she had been my girlfriend.
I had met her through Vanessa, who had introduced us, and for a time, we had shared a passionate romance.
But that was before I had entered into my current marriage, and the complications of my past began to creep back into my thoughts.
As the implications of her return sank in, I realized that my life was about to become even more complicated than it already was.