CHAPTER 4 — A BUSINESS OF BLOOD
1474 Words
Aanya woke with a gasp.
For a moment, the darkness of the night before clung to her eyelids—the alley, the cold pavement, the cloth over her mouth, the man whose voice had followed her into unconsciousness. Then the room around her took shape: tall windows, heavy curtains, a bed too large and too soft, a faint scent of clean linen and something sharp, like metal polished with care.
She pushed herself up, head spinning slightly. Morning light filtered in through the curtains, soft but unforgiving. Nothing about this room belonged to her life.
She walked to the window. Outside, she saw high walls topped with cameras, a narrow stretch of concrete path, and beyond that, industrial wastelands. Warehouses. Shipping containers. Unmarked trucks.
A place no one walked alone.
A place designed to hide.
Her breath trembled.
Before she could think of anything else—
A lock clicked.
She turned sharply as the door opened.
A man stepped in. Young. Muscled. A thin scar cut through his eyebrow, giving him a permanent look of annoyance.
“You’re awake,” he said, not warmly, not coldly—just stating a fact.
Aanya didn’t answer.
“Boss asked me to check on you,” he said, stepping aside to reveal a tray already on the table. “Eat.”
She stared at the food: toast, eggs, sliced fruit. Normal. Ordinary. Comforting in the worst possible way.
Her voice shook. “Why am I here?”
The man—Riku—looked at her briefly. “Because you’re alive.”
“That doesn’t answer anything.”
He shrugged. “You want the truth? You walked somewhere you shouldn’t have. Someone saw you. Someone dangerous. The boss stepped in.”
“And kidn*pped me.”
“Saved you,” he corrected. “Same difference, depending on the day.”
She glared at him, but he barely reacted.
“Eat,” he repeated. “Boss wants you strong.”
“For what?” she asked.
He hesitated—just a second, but enough.
“For whatever comes next.”
He turned to leave.
“Riku,” she called. “What is this place?”
He paused. “A house people walk into and rarely walk out of, unless Boss wants them to.”
Fear wrapped around her spine. “So I’m a prisoner.”
“No,” he said. “Prisoners are worthless. You’re leverage.”
That was worse.
He left, locking the door behind him.
Aanya stared at the tray again. Hunger gnawed at her, but dread weighed heavier. Still—she forced herself to eat. She needed strength. She needed clarity. Every bite tasted like sand, but she swallowed anyway.
Halfway through, muffled voices drifted up through the floorboards.
Deep. Sharp. Controlled.
Kaito’s.
She froze.
“We renegotiate at noon,” he said from below. “They’ll come expecting a corpse or a surrender. They’ll get neither.”
Another voice answered, rougher. “Ren, these men are cleaners. They don’t negotiate. They eliminate.”
“And yet they’re coming to my table,” Kaito replied. “That means they fear something.”
“Or want something?” another voice said.
A chair scraped. Someone exhaled.
“What about the girl?” a man asked.
Aanya pressed closer to the floor.
“She stays alive,” Kaito said. “No one touches her.”
Silence.
Then: “You’re risking a lot for someone you don’t know.”
Kaito’s voice dropped, softer but sharper. “I know enough.”
Aanya stepped back from the door, heart racing.
He was going to war because of her.
She didn’t know whether to feel grateful or terrified.
Time crawled. The quiet pressed down on her harder than noise ever could.
Then—
Footsteps approached.
Her body tensed. The lock turned. The door opened.
He walked in.
Kaito Ren filled the doorway like a shadow that had decided to take human form. He wore a charcoal-grey suit, his tie loosely knotted around his throat. His sleeves were rolled the slightest bit, revealing the tail end of a tattoo curling around his wrist.
His eyes found her instantly—dark, unreadable, unwavering.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“That seems to be everyone’s favorite line here,” she muttered.
For a second—just a second—his eyes flickered with something like amusement.
“It means you survived the night,” he said calmly. “That’s more than most who cross my path.”
Her throat tightened. “Is that supposed to reassure me?”
“No,” he said. “It’s supposed to give you perspective.”
He entered the room and shut the door behind him. The soft click of the lock made her jump.
Kaito noticed.
He always noticed.
“Riku told you something,” he said.
“He told me I’m leverage,” she said bitterly.
“That’s the simplified version,” Kaito replied. “But yes.”
“So I’m a bargaining chip,” she said. “Great.”
“You’re more complicated than that,” he murmured.
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t.”
He walked closer, slow, measured steps that made her pulse quicken despite herself. He stopped a few feet away—too close, but not touching.
“You heard us,” he said simply.
She didn’t try to deny it.
“Yes.”
“Then you know someone is coming.”
“You mean killers,” she whispered. “People who want me dead.”
“Yes.”
“And you could stop all of this by giving me to them.”
“I could.”
“But you won’t.”
“I won’t.”
She stared at him, searching his face for something human.
“Why?” she breathed. “Why risk your life? Your men? Why bother?”
His eyes locked onto hers, intense and steady.
“Because,” he said quietly, “you walked down the wrong street at the wrong time. That is not a death sentence in my city.”
“My city,” she echoed.
“It is,” he said. “Everything within these walls answers to me.”
“And I answer to you too now?” she asked, voice trembling.
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Her breath caught.
“What happens at noon?” she asked.
“We negotiate,” he said. “Or they try to kill me. Either way, it ends.”
“And me?” she whispered.
“You stay in this room,” Kaito said. “Door locked. Curtains closed.”
“That makes me feel like bait.”
“If I wanted bait,” he said coldly, “you would be downstairs.”
Her stomach turned. “And what if they win? What if they kill you?”
He stepped closer.
“Aanya,” he said softly, “if they kill me… this door won’t save you. So don’t worry about me losing.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It’s not meant to be.”
His hand lifted slightly—like he meant to touch her cheek—but he stopped midway, fingers curling instead.
“You don’t trust me,” he said. Not angry. Just stating a fact.
“How can I?” she whispered.
“You can’t,” he said. “But you will rely on me anyway. That’s what survival looks like.”
She swallowed hard. “Why does my survival matter to you?”
His jaw tightened. “It matters because they want you dead. And that means they challenged me. I don’t tolerate challenges.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No,” he said. “It’s the only truth I’m willing to give you today.”
He moved toward the door.
“Kaito,” she said suddenly.
He stopped.
“If they ask you to prove you don’t care about me… what will you say?”
He turned his head slightly, eyes darkening in a way that made her chest tighten.
“I don’t prove things,” he said quietly. “I demonstrate consequences.”
Her breath hitched.
He opened the door.
“If it gets loud downstairs,” he said, “stay on the floor, away from the windows. Don’t open this door for anyone but me. Not even if they use my name.”
Her heart pounded painfully. “And if you don’t come back?”
He met her eyes one last time.
“I didn’t bring you here to lose you,” he said softly.
Then he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
Aanya leaned her forehead against the wood, eyes burning.
The house was silent again.
Too silent.
And somewhere below her, the devil was preparing for business—
A business built on blood.
- Writer
