Kashi paced the length of her bedroom, phone pressed hard against her ear, voice sharp and rising with every word. "That stupid cousin of mine— violated my Bugatti. Had sex in it. In my car. The leather still smells like cologne and whatever the hell else they left behind. I need to get the whole interior detailed and I still feel like burning the seats."
Chaos's voice came through steady, low, unhurried. "Mm. That's fucked up."
She kept going, the words tumbling out in bitter waves while he simply listened. No interruptions. No empty reassurances. Just the quiet sound of his breathing on the other end, patient and calm, letting her burn it out.
Eventually the fire in her voice dimmed. She sighed, long and heavy, and dropped onto the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight. Cool sheets met the backs of her thighs. She rolled onto her side, phone still cradled against her ear.
"What are you even doing right now?" she asked, softer now.
"Nothing," Chaos said. "Just here. Talking to you."
She scoffed under her breath but didn't argue.
A beat of silence stretched between them. Then his voice dropped a fraction lower.
"I missed you."
Kashi's mouth curved. "What did you miss?"
He started listing— her laugh, the way she talked with her hands even when no one could see her, the particular sound she made when she was pretending not to be pleased— and she cut him off with a sudden, bright laugh that cracked through the line.
Kashi turned further onto her side. The huge teddy bear he'd won for her at the amusement park sat propped against the pillows, one ear bent. She reached out without thinking and stroked the soft synthetic fur between her fingers. It was ridiculous— Kashi Saints, carting a giant plush around her like some soft-hearted teenager— but the texture under her fingertips was familiar now. Comforting. She smiled faintly and kept petting the ear.
"When are you free?" Chaos asked.
"I'm a busy woman."
"I'm a busy man. Does it matter?"
She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see it. "Why?"
"If I tell you why, you'll probably hang up."
"Say it."
Chaos's voice dropped into that low, deliberate register that always made her stomach tighten. "I keep thinking about how quiet you get when you're close. How your thighs start shaking before you even make a sound."
Kashi's breath caught. Heat flickered low in her belly, unexpected and sharp. She pressed her thighs together without meaning to.
"I'd push them open and keep them there. Hold you down so you can't close them, even when it gets too much."
Her free hand drifted down almost on its own, slipping beneath the waistband of her panties. Warm skin.
The first slick slide of her fingers against herself made her eyes flutter shut.
"I'd get my mouth on you first— slow at first, just enough pressure to make you restless."
A soft, uneven exhale left her. She circled her clit slowly, the sheets rasped faintly against her calves as her legs shifted.
"Then I'd use my tongue the way you like. Flat and steady, right over your clit, until your hips start rolling. I'd hold them down harder..."
Her hips gave a small, involuntary twitch. The wet sound of her fingers was quiet but unmistakable in the still room. She bit the inside of her lip, already fighting the urge to make noise.
"I'd slide two fingers into you while I sucked. Nice and deep. Curl them until I find that spot that makes your voice crack."
Kashi's breath hitched. She pressed two fingers inside herself, mirroring the words, and a soft, broken sound escaped before she could stop it—barely more than a breath. Her stomach tightened. Heat bloomed under her skin.
"You'd try to stay quiet for me— always do at first— but I'd keep going until those little sounds start slipping out. The ones you pretend aren't moans. I'd make you soak my hand."
Her fingers moved faster now, circling with more pressure. She could feel how wet she'd gotten—how the insides of her thighs were already damp. Her panties had been pushed halfway down her thighs, the elastic digging into her skin.
"Then I'd flip you over, pull your hips up, and push into you from behind. Slow at first so you feel every inch. Then harder. Deep enough that every thrust knocks the air out of you."
A shaky exhale slipped through her nose. Her hips rolled against her own hand, chasing the friction. Her pulse thudded hard between her legs.
"I'd reach around and rub your clit while I fucked you. Tell you how wet you are. How tight. How good you feel when you start clenching around me."
Kashi's silent moan came out as a trembling breath. She was so close to making real noise. Her fingers were slick, desperate, moving in tight circles. Every filthy detail he fed her made her thighs tremble.
"I'd pull out just to hear you whine. Spread you open with my thumbs and watch how shiny and swollen you get for me. Then I'd push back in—harder this time— and stay deep. Grind against you until you're shaking."
Her stomach clenched. She pressed harder, chasing the edge, breathing shallow and uneven.
"I'd tell you to come for me. Tell you I want to feel it and when you do, I'd keep fucking you through it. Keep going until you're oversensitive and trying to squirm away. I'd hold you still and make you take every last second of it."
Kashi's next breath came out shaky and too loud. She didn't realize how much noise she was making until Chaos went quiet for half a second.
Then he laughed— low, knowing, almost fond.
"Look at you" he murmured. "I can hear you. You're touching yourself, aren't you?"
Kashi jolted, yanking her hand free like she'd been burned. Her face burned hotter than the rest of her. She pressed her thighs together, still aching, still wet, pulse hammering between her legs.
"Why did you stop?" she whispered.
"Because I can hear you," he said, still amused. "You're not as quiet as you think, Miss Saints."
She pouted at the ceiling, frustrated and flushed and still throbbing. "Not fair."
"If you want this," Chaos said, voice dropping back into that same dark register, "clear your schedule for me."
Kashi exhaled slowly. The ache hadn't gone anywhere. Neither had the heat still lingering under her skin, or the memory of his voice describing exactly how he'd ruin her.
"…Fine," she said. "I'll see what I can do."
Kashi murmured a quiet goodnight and ended the call before she could change her mind. The phone screen went dark. The room felt suddenly larger, quieter. She lay there in the half-light, the teddy bear still warm against her side, her hand resting on her stomach, pulse still thrumming hard between her legs— left alone with everything he'd put in her head.
💜~~~~~~
The sharp knock on her bedroom door pulled Kashi from sleep. She blinked against the soft afternoon light filtering through the half-drawn curtains, the sheets tangled around her legs still carrying the faint warmth of the night before.
Another knock.
She dragged herself up, bare feet meeting cool tiles, and pulled open the door.
Frank stood in the hallway, posture perfect as always, dark suit immaculate. He inclined his head in a small, precise bow. "Good afternoon, Miss Saint."
Kashi squinted past him, then yawned carefully behind her hand. The house was quiet in that particular late-morning way— sunlight already high, the air carrying the faint scent of flowers and distant kitchen meals.
She'd overslept again. Not that she was ever much of a morning person.
"I'll have lunch served if you'd like," Frank offered, voice even.
Kashi nodded, still half-dazed, pushing a hand through her sleep-mussed hair.
Frank continued, "A delivery arrived for you this morning,Young miss."
Kashi raised a brow. She hadn't ordered anything. "Did Zarri send a package here?"
"It wasn't from Miss Zarri."
She blinked.
A few minutes later Kashi stood outside on the wide steps of the mansion, the afternoon sun warm against her bare arms, the air carrying the faint sweetness of the garden's late blooms.
Frank stood calmly beside her, one gloved hand extended, in his palm rested a single wildflower—, stem still slightly damp as if it had been cut only hours ago— and a small cream-colored card.
Kashi took both. The flower's delicate scent rose immediately, fresh and clean. She flipped the card open with her thumb. Only one letter was written there, in dark, decisive ink.
X.
Kashi looked up.
There, in the middle of the manicured yard, sat a Bugatti Chiron. Matte black. Immaculate. The sunlight slid across its sharp lines like liquid, the wrap so clean it almost absorbed the light rather than reflecting it. The car was new, untouched. Waiting.
Kashi's mouth parted slightly. The afternoon breeze stirred the edges of her sleep shirt. Somewhere behind her a bird called once and went quiet again. The wildflower's stem was cool between her fingers.
She stared at the Chiron for a long moment, the card still open in her other hand, the single letter staring back at her. A slow smile curved her mouth.
"…Well. Fuck me."
Kashi slipped her phone, the screen bright against the afternoon light. Her thumb moved quickly.
Kashi: How did you know where i live?
The reply came almost before she could lower the phone.
Chaos:I educated myself on your lore.
A soft chuckle escaped her, quiet and unwillingly fond. She slid the phone away, the metal still faintly warm from her hand, then she started walking.
The stone path was warm under her bare feet, the sun having baked it all morning.
The Bugatti waited ahead of her— matte black, sharp-edged, the kind of quiet that felt intentional. Sunlight slid across its surfaces without quite catching, the wrap drinking the light instead of throwing it back. Somewhere in the garden a sprinkler hissed to life and then stopped. The wildflower stem was still cool between her fingers.
She stopped a few paces from the car and let her gaze travel the length of it— hood, roofline, the low, predatory stance of the thing. The air around it smelled faintly of new rubber and that clean, expensive emptiness that only brand-new machines carried.
Kashi exhaled through her nose, the corner of her mouth still curved. She reached out and set her palm against the driver's door.