Chapter 9: The Scarlet Hunting Ground and Broken Covenants
1275 Words
At lunchtime, the cafeteria of the Valkyrie Building remained filled with a suppressed clamor.
"Hey, did you see the news on the internal channel?" Claire sat down opposite Astrid, her tray in hand and her expression a complex knot of emotions.
"Not interested. It’s nothing but rumors and nonsense." Astrid sliced into her cold meal, her movements as precise and elegant as a surgical dissection.
Claire looked at her with genuine admiration. "I wish I had half your composure. Security said those manuscripts were misplaced by Olivia, the intern. She’s a fledgling—hasn't learned how to survive under the clans' noses yet. Apparently, she was so nervous she mixed up the workstations."
"Let her be," Astrid replied coolly. She could feel the judging stares around her softening, replaced by a lingering fear of her own venomous retaliation.
"But seriously, did Mr. Valerius tear you a new one on the top floor this morning? You looked like you’d lost your soul when you came out." Claire lowered her voice, her tone prying.
"Isn't it normal to get a little frostbite when dealing with an Arctic glacier?" Astrid took a noncommittal sip of ice water.
"That doesn't sound like him," Claire muttered. "In his world, a person without value doesn't even earn the right to waste his breath."
"That’s because you haven't seen how scathing he is in private." Astrid let out a soft scoff. As she set down her utensils and looked up, she collided with the sight of Killian walking toward the window seats with a tray.
She sharply kicked Claire’s ankle to silence her, instantly pivoting into a flawless, professional smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Valerius."
She acted as though the woman who had fled from his embrace in a panic that morning was a total stranger.
Killian didn't even spare her a glance. Like an Alpha King patrolling his territory, he walked straight to a booth nearby and began barking orders to Sebastian regarding corporate affairs.
"Scared the life out of me. You think he heard us?" Claire buried her face in her bread, her heart still hammering.
"So what if he did? Gossiping about the Lord isn't a crown offense," Astrid said calmly. Yet, the persistent scent of cold silver fir continued to tease her senses, making her shift restlessly in her seat.
Twilight arrived. In the locker room, Astrid changed into a gown as rich and deep as fresh blood. Her makeup was exquisite, sharpened to a lethal edge.
* drove her vintage sedan to the most prominent spot in front of Julian’s office building. As the rush-hour crowd surged out, this beauty—resembling a midnight rose—became a gravitational black hole for every gaze.
When Julian emerged, his face still bore that mask of hypocritical dignity. But the moment he saw the stunningly dressed Astrid, the avarice in his eyes became nearly impossible to hide. He clearly hadn't realized he was walking into a meticulously woven hunting ground.
"Astrid." He sounded flattered, almost starstruck.
In a rare move, she took the initiative to greet him, her fingertips hooking into his tie before she intimately wrapped her arms around his waist. The envious looks from his colleagues provided Julian with the ultimate ego boost.
In the past, Astrid had always been distant and restrained, her most intimate gesture being a mere peck on the forehead.
Revolting.
Astrid pressed herself against his chest, her inner revulsion threatening to breach the dam of her sanity. But to deal with a liar and a traitor, she had to be the better actor to ensure his slow execution was complete.
"I’ve been craving the steak here. Shall we have dinner at 'Santa Cruz'?" Astrid flashed a smile that was sweet yet bone-chilling.
"As you wish, babe." Julian played the part of the attentive knight, opening the car door and even carefully clicking her seatbelt into place.
The moment she sat in the passenger seat, Astrid swiftly pulled out a tissue and, hidden in the shadows, violently scrubbed the back of her hand where he had touched her.
[Santa Cruz Restaurant]
Astrid showed no restraint, ordering expensive black truffles, dried venison, and top-tier red wine. For a man like Julian—born into "old money" but possessed by a pathological need for control—this kind of extravagance usually sparked irritation. But today, he just watched her with doting eyes.
He seemed to truly "love" her, but in Astrid’s eyes, his unfaithful husk radiated nothing but the stench of rot.
Before the food arrived, right on cue, Julian’s phone vibrated violently.
"Darling, I have to take a family call." Julian’s expression shifted. Avoiding her eyes, he snatched his phone and hurried toward the corridor.
The seductive smile Astrid had been wearing collapsed instantly, replaced by sheer exhaustion. However, as she turned her head, she slammed right into a pair of amber eyes as deep as an abyss—
Killian.
He was actually there. Sitting across from him was a woman with the unmistakable aura of vampire royalty, every gesture dripping with grace.
Astrid jerked her water glass up to shield her face. Dammit. Julian was the one cheating, so why did she feel like she’d just been caught red-handed by the Lord?
Killian’s gaze pierced through her without apology. The woman opposite him noticed the shift in his attention and turned elegantly to look.
"Killian, what interesting thing are you looking at?" The woman's voice was soft and magnetic.
"Nothing. Just a small animal in its death throes." Killian withdrew his gaze, twirling the stem of his chilled wine glass.
Astrid knew exactly what Julian’s phone call meant. The little performance she’d just put on had likely reached the ears of Isabella’s clan by now.
Ping—
Her phone flashed a private message. It was from Isabella: [An ultrasound image]. I’m carrying his seed. A true pureblood lineage.
Astrid’s fingertips trembled violently; her pupils contracted.
It was happening so fast. The so-called alliance had already become an unchangeable fate. No wonder Julian had to hide to take that call; she could practically smell the madness and entanglement behind it from across the room.
She stood abruptly, pushing her chair back and rushing toward the restroom.
In front of the vanity mirror, Astrid took a shuddering breath. Her mouth tasted of bitterness—a signal that something in her bloodline was fracturing. Her nails dug deep into her palms as she forced herself to stay calm. Trash belongs in the incinerator.
As she rounded the corner to leave the restroom, she ran into a dark silhouette leaning against the wall.
Killian held his blazer, radiating a faint scent of alcohol and a suffocating, predatory pressure. He lowered his gaze to her face, which was flushed and vivid with fury.
"It seems the prey hasn't stopped breathing yet," the man said, his magnetic voice laced with a hint of intoxication. "Are you sure you don't need me to do the honors and just snap his neck?"
"No need." Astrid tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her eyes flashing with a sharp light. "That final breath—it only has meaning if I choke it out myself."
"You have spine," Killian chuckled lowly, stepping aside to clear her path.
Astrid walked quickly back to her seat, her mind a chaotic mess. Sebastian’s gossiping face and Killian’s all-seeing eyes made her feel like her "revenge play" was nothing more than a clumsy pantomime performed before the King.
One day, she was going to rip Sebastian’s loose-lipped mouth shut. But for now, she only wanted to see how much longer Julian’s hypocritical mask could stay intact.
- Writer
