CHAPTER THREE
1310 Words
“ Playing With Power”
KAIYA'S POV
I didn’t dress for war. But when I showed up at the Virelli penthouse, that’s exactly what it felt like.
My black dress was sharp enough to cut, but I wasn’t hiding weapons, just motives. And nerves. God, the nerves.
The private elevator opened directly into his suite. No assistant. No preamble.
Just Caius.
He was leisurely relaxing on a dark leather couch like he’d been expecting me since sunrise.
His shirt unbuttoned not just at the collar but two more buttons were undone giving me a sneak peek of his broad chest, and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows.
He held a glass tumbler that contained an amber coloured liquid in hand. The way he looked at me made me feel like he already knew what I would say before I said it and it was no doubt infuriating as hell.
“Ms. Everhart,” he drawled, his voice sounding so smooth like melted sin. “Come to finish what you started?”
“I’m not here to flirt, Virelli,” I said, stepping into the room, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor. “I came to ask questions.”
“And I might even answer a few,” he said, standing and walking toward me with that slow, deliberate grace that made everything feel like a calculated move. “But not while you're still pretending you're not curious.”
“Curious about what?” I asked, squinting.
He took my hand, but not with the intention of shaking it, he just held it like he had every right to. He used his thumb to brush the inside of my wrist, in a slow and deliberate manner like he was searching for my pulse.
“This,” he said. “Us.”
“There is no us.”
“Yet.”
I yanked my hand back,as I felt the heat that crept under my skin from his touch. “This isn’t a game.”
“Of course it is,” he murmured. “You just don’t know the rules yet.”
The space between us pulsed. Every inch of this penthouse was luxurious with glass, chrome, dark stone, but I was too aware of him to notice anything else.
Caius Virelli didn’t need to fill a room. The air just changed when he was in it.
I should’ve left. Should’ve slammed the elevator button and disappeared before the gravity between us swallowed me whole.
But then he turned his back to me and walked towards the floor-to-ceiling window, and said:
“What you wrote… wasn’t wrong.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “You expected me to deny it. You came here thinking I’d bluff, threaten, maybe sue. But I didn’t. Because you’re not wrong.”
I stepped closer, wary. “Then why did you invite me here earlier?”
He looked out at the skyline for a beat, as if considering how much to say. “Because truth is currency. And I want to see how you spend it.”
My head spun. I couldn’t tell if he was disarming me or reloading.
“You’re admitting the corruption?”
“No. I’m admitting there’s more,” he said, finally turning to face me. “What you exposed was the appetizer.”
“And you’re the main course?”
He smirked cunningly. “You tell me.”
The tension crackled between us, sharp and intoxicating. My instincts screamed caution, but the fire in my blood wouldn’t let me walk away. He had that effect, one that made smart people make bad decisions and pretend they were in control of them.
“You think you can control the story,” I said. “You think you can control me.”
“Oh, I know I can't control you,” he said, stepping forward again. “But I can make you want to lose control.”
The air between us thickened. My heart thudded so loudly it drowned out my better judgement.
“What do you get out of this?” I asked. “Out of pulling me in?”
“I want to see if you can handle what comes next.”
“I’m not your pawn.”
He stepped forward again, slow and sure. “You’re not a pawn. That’s why I picked you.”
“Picked me?”
“You think I haven’t been watching?” he said, voice low. “Reading your work, studying your moves? I knew exactly how you’d come after Virelli Global. I knew it would be you.”
“And you didn’t stop me?”
“I wanted to see what you’d dig up,” he said. “And if you could go deeper.”
“You sound almost impressed.”
“Oh, I am.”
It shouldn’t have mattered. Compliments from men like him were usually barbed. But somehow, this one lodged somewhere between my heart and warmed it.
“Tell me one thing,” I said daringly, stepping close enough to test both of us. “Why me?”
“Because you don’t scare easily,” he said. “And because you’re the only one I’ve met who’s not pretending.”
“About what?”
He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “That this isn’t just professional anymore.”
I should’ve slapped him.
Instead, I kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was hot and angry and zesty. He was stunned for a few seconds before he reciprocated.
He kissed me like a man that was starving, like he’d been imagining this since the moment he read my exposé. Like this was the only way we could speak the same language.
His hands found my waist, gripping it tightly. Mine tangled in his hair. And for a breathless, blinding second, I forgot everything—the investigation, the danger, even my name.
But power was seductive. And kisses with devils come at a cost.
I pulled back first, breath shaky, heart pounding against my ribs.
“Consider that a warning,” I said, voice hoarse.
His smile was wicked. “Then I can’t wait for the threat.”
I turned to leave, needing air, needing space, needing anything but him. The elevator felt like salvation.
But just as I reached the doors, he said:
“Next time, wear red. You look like trouble in red.”
As the doors slid shut I felt the heat on my cheeks.
And I hated how much that statement made me blush.
Outside, the Manhattan air slapped me back to reality. I stood on the sidewalk, dazed, my heart still racing, my lips still tingling like they knew better than I did what I’d just done.
What the hell was I thinking kissing him? I asked myself breathing heavily.
I didn’t do this. I didn’t cross lines. I dug them into the sand and defended them with my teeth. But tonight… I crossed.
I kissed Caius Virelli.
And I wanted more. And I hated that I wanted more.
My phone buzzed in my purse. I took it out, gosh I needed a distraction, anything to break the spell he’d put me under.
Unknown Number:
You’re getting too close, Ms. Everhart. Back off before you burn.
Instantly, I felt stomach churn in dread
I reread the message again for the third time, each word hitting harder than the last. No signature. No number. Just a warning. Or a threat.
I lifted my gaze to the shadows across the street.
Someone was watching.
Someone knew.
The heat from that kiss cooled into dread, fast and sharp. This wasn’t just about chemistry or ego anymore. I had stepped into something not just bigger but layered, dangerous,and rigged.
And maybe Caius was the spark.
But someone else wanted me doused.
- Writer
