CHAPTER SIX
1369 Words
KAEL'S POV
My left eye had been twitching since morning. I didn’t believe in superstitions, but I’d learned that some signs shouldn't be ignored. Still, I pushed it aside. I had work to do.
The conference room was freezing. I liked it that way. If you’re comfortable, you’re not focused. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass, the city skyline looked the same as any other city—just another place to make money.
Mr. Ivan sat across from me, looking like he was about to snap. His hands were gripped so tight on the table his knuckles were white.
“Mr. Voss,” he started, trying to sound confident, “working with you would change everything for my company. I’ve followed your career for years. This isn’t just business. It’s an honor.”
I didn't say anything. People talk too much when they’re scared.
“I heard you recently acquired that estate in the Hamptons,” Ivan continued, leaning back slightly as if we were old friends. “Must be a nice place to escape the city noise. Do you spend much time there, or are you more of a Mediterranean person?”
I stared at him until his smile faded. “Does my choice of real estate affect your quarterly earnings?” I asked.
“No, I just thought we could get to know each other,” he stammered. “A solid partnership is built on more than just numbers, don’t you think? It’s about the people behind the—”
“Focus, Ivan,” I interrupted coldly. “I’m here for a transaction, not a biography. If I wanted a conversation, I’d go to dinner. Right now, I want my signature on a deal that makes sense.”
He cleared his throat, looking down at the papers. “Of course. Right. Well, regarding the terms... I saw you used a similar structure with the Reynolds merger last year. Was that because of the tax implications or—”
“It was because it worked,” I said, cutting him off again. “Stop looking at what I did yesterday and look at what I’m offering you today. Butt licking doesn’t pay the bills, and neither does small talk.”
He blinked, clearly thrown off by how blunt I was.
“I get that,” he said quickly, leaning in. “That’s why I’m willing to compromise. But forty-five percent is already pushing it.”
I tilted my head, keeping my eyes locked on his. “You’re still asking for too much,” I remarked.
He swallowed hard.
“Twenty-five percent,” I said. “That’s my final offer.”
The room went silent for a long time.
“Sir,” he whispered, sounding desperate, “if I agree to that, my partners will think I’m a fool. They’ll say I sold out our entire future.”
I leaned back and folded my arms. “And if you don’t agree, you won’t have a future left to sell,” I countered quietly.
His breath hitched. He looked like he was standing on the edge of a cliff.
“I didn't build this company by being nice,” I added. “I built it by knowing when to walk away.”
His hands started to shake. “I agree,” he said finally. “Twenty-five percent. I'll sign.”
I stood up and smoothed my suit jacket. I didn't smile. “John,” I called out to my assistant while I adjusted my cufflinks, “handle the paperwork.”
I walked out without looking back.
Back in my office, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I hesitated but picked up.
“Kael Voss speaking,” I said.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Voss,” a voice said. “This is Inspector Charles from the NYPD.”
I closed my office door. “Yes, Inspector. To what do I owe the call?” I asked.
“It’s about the kidnapping of Sylvie Carter,” he said. “We need you to come down to the station for some questions.”
I stopped moving. Sylvie.
My blood ran cold. I hadn't heard it in three years.
“I’m out of state,” I said after a second of silence. “I’ll be back in a week.”
“Sir, this is urgent,” the inspector pressed. “We’d prefer you come in sooner, at least tomorrow.”
“I don't change my schedule for preferences,” I told him coldly.
“Fine,” he sighed. “We will see in one week then, sir.”
The call ended, but I remained standing as the memories crept in uninvited. Sylvie laughing under the old oak tree, or when she silently beside her parents’ graves and when she walked away from me without looking back.
It's been three years. That was how long it had been since I last heard her voice or saw her and the first thing I'm hearing about her is that she was missing. I did not know why that fact unsettled me.
***
A week later, I landed and my phone immediately rang.
“Mr. Voss,” Inspector Charles said. “You’re back in the country?”
“I just landed,” I replied.
“It will be appreciated if you can come to the station today. We can't wait any longer,” he said.
“And if I choose not to?” I asked coldly.
“Please, sir,” he said. “Your statement is important.”
“I’ll be there,” I said and ended the call.
The drive to the station felt like it took forever. The interrogation room was small and smelled like old coffee. I barely sat down before the door swung open. Darian Blackwood walked in, looking like a mess. He didn't even say hello.
“So,” he spat, glaring at me, “you finally decided to show up.”
I did not bother to stand. “Good afternoon to you, too,” I said calmly.
“Stop playing games,” he snapped, stepping toward me. “Where is she?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You should be asking the police that question, not me.” I replied.
He let out a dry, angry laugh. “You think I’m stupid? You think I do not see what is happening? I know how you are, Kael.”
I leaned back. “You’re being emotional, Darian. That makes you careless,” I told him.
He clenched his fists. “She is my wife!” he yelled.
“Not yet,” I corrected him, smiling as if I enjoyed his pain but I wanted nothing more than to catch up on my sleep.
His eyes went dark. “You always do this. You act like you’re better than everyone,” he growled.
I didn't flinch. “And you always act like you own her,” I said.
For a second, I thought he was going to swing at me.
“You’ve always wanted to ruin her life,” he said, his voice shaking. “Ever since she stopped listening to you and started making her own choices.”
My jaw tightened. “You don’t know anything about our past and what happened.” I snapped.
He stepped into my space. “I know enough. You took her peace. You took her trust. And now you took her freedom,” he accused.
The room went dead quiet. My hands curled into fists under the table.
“If you think I kidnapped her,” I said slowly, “then prove it.”
He stared at me, breathing hard. “I will,” he promised.
I stood up. “Until then, stop accusing me of things you can't explain,” I said.
He didn't move.
“Call my lawyer,” I said finally. “If you want to talk more, do it the right way.”
I walked out of the room without looking back. But for the first time in years, I felt a knot in my stomach. It was fear. Not for me, but for her.
As I got into my car
, my phone rang again. I answered immediately.
“Kael Voss speaking.”
- Writer
