CHAPTER 29
977 Words
“Let the Games Begin”
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Vassane’s POV
The wine in my glass had long gone warm, but I didn’t care. I sat curled in the corner of my luxury suite, the Seattle skyline glittering beyond the glass like diamonds laid out just for me.
I could see everything from here.
And soon, they would see me.
The television played a gossip segment on loop in the background. Photos of Alexander Knight and a girl (hazel) leaving an art gallery together. Sharing breakfast at a downtown café. Entering his penthouse. Leaving hand in hand.
I rolled my eyes.
The world called it romantic.
I called it temporary.
“She’s so... soft,” I muttered under my breath, swirling my wine. “All smiles and hope. She won’t last.”
I picked up my phone and scrolled through the endless fan accounts dedicated to their so-called love story. Couples edits. Matching outfit reels. Speculations about a ring.
Disgusting.
Alexander Knight had always been ice. Sharp. Unreachable. Powerful. The man I once molded into stone.
And that girl thought she could melt him?
How naive.
I stood, walked slowly to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and stared at my reflection—flawless. Sharp cheekbones. Lips painted like sin. Eyes that had watched empires rise and crumble.
They thought I was the past.
But I’ve always been the ending.
I picked up my phone and dialed.
The voice on the other end answered with a grunt, “It’s done?”
“Not yet,” I said, tapping a fingernail against the glass.
The man paused. “You sure you wanna play this game?”
I smiled coldly. “I’m not playing, Ace. I’m erasing.”
Click.
Let the games begin.
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Hazel’s POV
Morning — Alex’s Penthouse
I woke to the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon.
The sunlight streamed through the curtains like a warm blessing, wrapping the room in a soft, golden glow. I stretched slowly under the comforter, Alex’s scent still clinging to the shirt I wore—his shirt.
Yesterday’s pain had faded slightly. Not gone, but muted. Like an ache I could finally breathe through.
I padded into the kitchen, bare feet quiet on the hardwood. And there he was.
Alexander Knight.
Sleeves rolled. Hair tousled. Waffle batter on his thumb.
He looked like home.
“Morning,” I said softly, voice still husky with sleep.
He turned, eyes brightening at the sight of me. “Good morning,” he replied, setting down the whisk. “You sleep okay?”
I nodded, walking up behind him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against his back. “I still can’t believe you waited all night.”
He turned in my arms, lifted my chin. “And I’d do it again. As many times as it takes.”
Then he kissed me—slow and steady, like a man with no doubts.
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Later That Day — Hazel’s POV
I was scrolling through my phone when the first message came in.
Unknown Number: He’s using you.
I frowned.
Another one popped up.
You’re just a placeholder until he gets bored.
Then another.
You don’t belong in his world.
And another.
He’s not yours. He never was.
My fingers trembled.
The words blurred together like smoke seeping through cracks I hadn’t realized were still there.
Alex walked in, mid-sentence. “Hey, do you want to—Hazel? What’s wrong?”
I held out my phone with shaking hands.
He snatched it, eyes darkening as he read each one. “Who the hell…?”
“It’s a blocked number,” I whispered. “They started this morning.”
His jaw locked. “I’ll have it traced.”
“No,” I said, voice cracking. “It’s her. It has to be.”
Vassane.
He didn’t argue. Just picked up his phone and called someone. His voice was clipped, low, dangerous.
I turned away, arms wrapping around myself.
She wasn’t just coming for him.
She was coming for us.
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Raymond’s POV
The mood at Knight Enterprises was different the second I stepped out of the elevator.
Thick.
Tense.
Hazel’s usual smile was gone. She stood by the window in the hallway, arms crossed tightly around herself, face pale.
I approached slowly. “Hey. You okay?”
She nodded too fast.
“Hazel.”
Her eyes finally met mine.
“Do you think I don’t belong here?” she asked, voice small.
The question hit like a knife.
“No,” I said firmly. “I think he doesn’t belong anywhere without you.”
Her lips parted slightly, stunned.
“He was miserable before you,” I added. “Like some kind of emotionally bankrupt robot.”
She let out a small laugh—more of a puff of air than joy.
I reached for her hand. “You’re not alone. Whatever she’s doing—whatever she’s trying to make you believe—it’s not true.”
Her phone buzzed again.
Another message.
She silenced it.
But I saw the look in her eyes.
This wasn’t over.
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Vassane’s POV
The elevator ride up to the 60th floor was silent.
I adjusted the white silk blouse clinging perfectly to my curves and checked my reflection in the mirrored wall.
Flawless. As always.
The doors opened to the lobby of Knight Enterprises.
A receptionist looked up. “Miss—can I help you?”
I smiled like a blade. “Tell Alexander Knight his past just arrived… with interest.”
She hesitated. “I don’t believe he’s expecting—”
“He never does,” I purred, walking past her. “But I don’t need an appointment.”
Security buzzed.
Phones rang.
But I didn’t flinch.
Because some storms don’t knock.
They crash through the front door.
And I? I was the hurricane.
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TO BE CONTINUED…
- Writer
