Back to you

Avira had never been the kind of girl to ask for miracles. She worked for every scrap of peace she ever got. At sixteen, she’d been at the elite international school for five years — a scholarship kid surrounded by silk and arrogance. It was a place where money spoke before people did.

Kiara Kingston — her classmate — was like spun sugar: bright, bubbly, almost unreal in her softness. She didn’t know the weight of hunger or the silence of a house filled with unspoken pain. Her brother, Kaizen Kingston, was different — quieter, careful, eyes that saw more than they let on. When he was eighteen, he confessed to Avira, and she accepted his feelings.

But love didn’t make home any softer.

Avira’s father was a man who wanted a son and never forgave life for giving him daughters — and worse, a third-gender child in Avian, her younger sibling. She was his outlet for disappointment, his target for drunken rage.

And then came that night.

The shouting was sharp enough to slice through the air. Her father’s rage burned hot — literally. He pressed a steaming iron into her mother’s back. Avira rushed to shield her, but he shoved her, the iron grazing her own skin. And then, silence. Her mother gone.

Her father fled into the dark. Her mother lay still.

The burial was small, grey, almost hidden. Her brother was still in the hospital, broken from brutal school bullying from being different— and he didn’t even know their mother was gone. Avira went back to her café job the next day because grief didn’t pay bills.

That’s when Kiara walked in with the prank that ruined everything.

Big sunglasses. Fake tears. A blank cheque slapped onto the counter.

"Leave my brother. You don’t deserve him. Take the money and broke up with my brother."

Kiara thought it was harmless drama — a soap opera scene for laughs.

But Avira’s eyes… they didn’t even flicker. She picked up the cheque, folded it neatly, and walked away.

There was no explanation ..Just dead, empty eyes.

Kiara laughed at first.

Until she heard a classmate whisper about her character.

Until she realized Avira had taken the cheque seriously.

Until the rumor bloomed like poison: “She took the money to dump Kaizen.... Such a gold digger."

Bullying followed — notes stuffed in her locker, lipstick slurs on her desk, cold shoulders in the halls. It's not that she didn't protested she tried managaed to save herself atleast from physical abuse by her classmates.Kaizen tried to reach her(he was abroad for higher studies), but she avoided him. By the time Kiara confessed the prank to her brother, it was too late.

Avira was gone.

Avira left without a goodbye.

Without whining at her fate ..just the quiet removal of herself from a life that had only proven how fragile trust could be.

Kiara’s last memory of her was the prank — the cruel, overacted lines, the “leave my brother” declaration, the blank cheque slid across the table. She thought it was acting, a joke they’d laugh about later. But the laughter never came.

Kiara tried to make amends in her own way — tracking down the bullies, making them pay. But guilt has a way of sticking, even after you’ve punished every villain in sight.

Avira dropped out. Got her brother into a safer school. Worked herself raw in part-time jobs, her own dreams crushed under rent receipts and grocery bills.

At eighteen, her path swerved into blood and chaos.

A late shift. A shortcut through an alley.

Gunfire...dead bodies... Red taillights painting the rain. She froze until a shadow stepped forward — a masked man known as crimson fire's leader.

He didn’t kill her. Instead, he asked her name and told her she was safe now. She didn’t understand why. But when Crimson Fire claims you, the world stops touching you.

It wasn’t the gang leader himself who changed her life — it was the man he sent her to.

Dr. Rex williams, a brilliant surgeon with a spotless public reputation… and a quiet history of patching up Crimson Fire’s wounded in the shadows.

He saw something in Avira — sharp hands, sharper mind, a steadiness in crisis. She became his apprentice. Between legitimate cafe hours and secret after-midnight calls, she learned anatomy, trauma care, emergency surgery.

Years passed. Avira emerged not just as a doctor, but as a figure whispered about — the healer who could keep both saints and sinners alive. She owed her safety to Crimson Fire, but her skills… those were hers alone.

Her safety meant discretion. She kept a low profile, working days at a tiny café and nights in the underground clinics run by Dr. Rex — a surgeon whose hands were equally skilled with scalpel and silence.

Eight years passed. She was 26 now. Her brother, 16, was thriving — a scholar, an athlete, a walking challenge to the shame society tried to press on him for being third gender.

Avira no longer worked for survival alone.

She bought land and built a colony — not for herself, but for trans and third-gender people who had been cast aside.

It wasn’t charity. It was livelihood.

They learned crafts, started small businesses, sold their work proudly.

No one begged. No one starved.

They ate the rice of their own hard work, and Avira lived among them as one of their own.

____

The gang’s leader — known only as The Dark Lord — was feared enough to keep the lawless underworld lawful. Avira had seen the kind of respect he commanded, but what lingered in her mind was something else entirely: the way he spoke of his family.

His wife. His daughter. His son.

That rare, unshakable love in his voice was a knife Avira couldn’t pull out. If only I’d had a father like that…

Her own life was a stark opposite. Her brother, Avian, now sixteen, had fought the world’s cruelty with the quiet excellence of a scholar and athlete, becoming living proof that being born as third gender was no shame.

The Day of the Crowning

The Dark Lord’s invitation to his son’s crowning as the new successor was not something you declined. Avira was called to ensure medical readiness for the event — an unspoken order she could not refuse.

She’d heard whispers of him for years. The missions he led, the territories he claimed, the ruthlessness with which he silenced enemies. In the underworld, he was known only as Ravenmark — a name spoken like a shadow moving through a locked room.

Avira didn’t care to know more. Another heir, another predator in a city already drowning in them.

But when the Dark Lord stepped onto the grand marble dais, the room hushed. His voice carried over the crowd.

> “Tonight, I present to you my son… the one you know as Ravenmark.”

The name slid past her like wind. It meant nothing.

And then… he stepped forward into the light.

She recognised that eyes instantly.

It was as if the years folded in on themselves.

The jawline she had once brushed her fingers against.

The eyes she had once watched soften in unguarded moments.

The face she had liked — trusted — when she was far too young to know the cost of it.

It was him.

Kaizen Kingston.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Her heart pounded as if it wanted to claw its way out of her chest.

Every cruel thing she’d heard about Ravenmark — every whispered story of blood and fire — collided violently with the memory of that boy’s quiet laughter.

She hated it.

She hated that her chest ached for him.

She hated the ringing in her ears, the desperate pounding of her pulse, the way the words You don’t deserve my brother echoed over and over.

And above all, she hated Kiara Kingston — the Dark Lord’s daughter. The shadow of her name, her presence, felt like an old nightmare scratching at Avira’s skin.

Before anyone could stop her, Avira murmured something about an urgent call from Avian and slipped away from the hall, her tears already burning down her cheeks.

She didn’t look back.

She didn’t need to.

She had recognised him just from his eyes.

That was enough to undo her.

Kaizen pov

Kaizen’s world was painted in shadows and whispers — but in the quiet corners of his mind, it was Avira’s face that held color.

For years, his studio was a sanctuary from the violence that crowned his days and nights.

There, his only refuge was a canvas, and his only subject was her.

Each brushstroke was a memory carved into paint: the soft curve of her jaw, the spark of defiance in her eyes, the way her lips parted when she was lost in thought.

His paintings weren’t just art — they were his obsession.

A silent confessios.

The Runaway

He first saw her slip away that night after the crowning.

She moved like a shadow fleeing light, desperate and broken.

What broke his heart wasn’t just that she was running — it was what he saw beneath the surface.

Her clothes, always buttoned up tight, hid bruises he hadn’t known she bore.

The scars, faint but real, told stories of pain she refused to share.

The way she hunched her shoulders, guarding a body already marked by violence.

Kaizen hated how the world had forced her into this life.

He hated that she was tough, selfish even — traits born from survival, not choice.

But above all, he hated that she hid her hurt.

For eight long years, she had been the only constant in his chaotic world.

His protector’s rage, his mafia missions, his blood-stained hands — none of it could drown the ache to have her close again.

Every secret smile she never showed him, every stubborn silence, every guarded glance — it was a puzzle he wanted to solve.

He didn’t just want to love her — he wanted to see all of her.

The fierce, the fragile, the broken.

He was bit crazy about her.

It was a desperate need to strip away her armor, to cradle her wounds, to watch her guards fall and love her — endlessly, recklessly.

Watching From Afar

That night, as she fled the crowning ceremony, Kaizen’s eyes followed her like a hawk.

He didn’t move to stop her.

He let her run — because sometimes, love was about letting go, even when every piece of him wanted to hold on tight.

But he vowed silently:

She wouldn’t have to run forever.

He would find a way to bring her back.

The crowning ceremony was over, but Kaizen’s mind was far from the grand stage and the crowd’s applause.

Among the syndicate’s trusted medical team was a name whispered with reverence — The White Angel.

Curious, he pulled threads and soon unraveled her story:

A girl who had survived hellfire — scars hidden beneath her composed exterior.

A healer who was more than just a medic; she was a symbol of resilience and strength in their ruthless world.

His heart ached with every new fact.

She’d endured years without him — had struggled and sacrificed so much, all while he was away, tangled in violence and shadows.

At eighteen, he’d believed she betrayed him.

Now, the truth cut deeper than any wound — he hadn’t been there when she needed him most.

Days passed.

A week slipped by.

Avira remained a ghost.

Kaizen’s mind twisted in restless obsession.

One glance at her was all it would take to shatter the cold distance.

And he was willing to risk everything to see her again.

A small operation — staged and planned by Kaizen himself — ended with him “accidentally” injured.

Knowing the Dark Lord’s pride in his medical team, Kaizen was sure Avira would be called.

She was one of the few he trusted to save him.

When she arrived, her expression was unreadable but professional.

Every movement she made was precise, efficient — but her eyes held a storm Kaizen hadn’t seen before.

She didn’t look away, nor did she soften.

She had to treat him, but she kept the cold demeanor that had shielded her for years.

As Avira’s hand brushed his skin while checking his pulse, a jolt ran through him — pain transformed into pleasure in the strangest way.

His heart hammered, wild and chaotic.

He reached out, pulling her closer — not violently, but with a desperate intensity that spoke volumes.

His eyes locked onto hers, demanding, silent, dominating.

But Avira wasn’t easily unguarded.

With a strength born of years of survival, she wrenched free, refusing to let him see the tremble beneath her calm.

Kaizen’s arms tightened around her, refusing to let her slip away so easily.

“I missed you,” he confessed, voice raw, trembling with every ounce of the love and pain he’d swallowed for years.

“I searched everywhere. Every city, every shadow. I needed to know you were alive… I needed you.”

Avira shoved at his chest, but his grip held firm.

She looked up, eyes sharp and icy despite the tears threatening to fall.

“I was told I don’t deserve you,” she said, voice low but cutting deep.

“Then why did you even reach out? You’re funny.”

Without waiting for an answer, she pulled free, lifting her chin with fierce pride even as her heart shattered inside.

Her footsteps echoed as she walked away, leaving Kaizen to wrestle with the weight of his confession — and the cold truth she’d thrown back at him.

---

The moment Avira’s silhouette disappeared beyond the corridor, Kaizen stood frozen, every muscle straining as if to stop himself from running after her. His chest felt like it was caving in — not from the injury that brought her here, but from the truth in her words.

She’d been told she didn’t deserve him.

And the cruelest part..The person who planted that poison in her mind was living under the same roof as him.

His sister.

The same sister he loved with a loyalty that ran bone-deep.

The same sister who, with a few calculated words and in her naiveness, had razed his first and only love to the ground.

He could kill every bully Avira ever faced — and he had. He could burn down entire streets for making her bleed — and he did. But his sister.. He couldn’t lay a hand on her. Couldn’t even voice the truth without detonating his own family.

From the outside, the two siblings looked close, a powerful duo. Their parents dismissed the small cracks in their relationship as harmless sibling squabbles. But those cracks were fault lines. And inside Kaizen’s heart, resentment festered like a silent wildfire.

Because while his sister smiled at galas, surrounded by friends and luxury… Avira had been alone, clawing her way through a world that tore her apart piece by piece.

And now she stood before him again — unreachable, untouchable — because the one person he could never hurt had already done the damage he could never undo.

The car rolled into the estate’s driveway, the iron gates closing behind him with a sound that felt like a lock snapping shut on his sanity.

He could already see the warm lights spilling out of the main hall, the familiar silhouettes waiting.

His parents.

And her.

Kaira.

Flawless in a designer dress, smiling that camera-perfect smile she now wore in every movie poster. The golden girl of the family. The famous actress she always said she’d be.

Once, Kaizen would have been proud. He would have been the first to brag about her achievements, to protect her from any shadow. But that was before he knew how her hands had helped push Avira out of his life.

He stepped into the hall, the air heavy with the scent of polished wood and expensive flowers. His mother fussed over his bandaged arm, his father’s sharp eyes scanned him for weakness, and Kaira simply looked at him — waiting for his praise.

He gave her nothing.

The days when she was his “princess” were over. Now, she was just another person in a house where loyalty was a one-way street. And every time she tilted her head like she expected him to play the doting brother, he remembered the way Avira’s voice cracked when she said she’d been told she didn’t deserve him.

The worst part. No one else knew.

Not his parents. Not his cousin. Not anyone.

Because Kaizen hadn’t told them. Not because he wanted to protect Kaira — but because the truth was so rotten, it felt like speaking it aloud would break him.

His father thought his coolness toward her was just sibling friction. His cousin teased him for being overprotective one minute and too harsh the next. The entire family saw Kaira as untouchable.

But Kaizen knew better.

And so, when his father tried to praise her newest film over dinner, Kaizen’s response was a quiet, sharp “Reality doesn’t come with retakes.”

A slap of truth. The kind she hated.

He no longer played the part of her that blind support.

Kaira laughed on cue when her father cracked a joke, but her eyes kept flicking toward Kaizen — the coldness in his gaze was something she’d never gotten used to.

He used to look at her like she was the brightest star in the room. But it's different now.

And she knew why.

The guilt had lived with her for years, an unwelcome shadow in every dressing room and red-carpet event. Back then, she had told herself she was protecting her brother, feeding him a version of the truth she believes that would keep him from Avira. Her friends — the kind who thrived on cruelty dressed as confidence — had told her she did the right thing. They made her feel like she was defending family honor, as if Avira’s struggles and mistakes were proof she didn’t deserve Kaizen.

But now Kaira knew the truth.

Avira had taken money because she needed it, not because she was greedy. It had been the wrong choice, sure — but it didn’t justify the relentless bullying that followed.

And Kaira had stood there and watched it happen.She’d even laughed sometimes, just to stay in step with the girls who ruled their social circle. Every time she thought about stepping forward, those same girls would whisper, “You did the right thing. Don’t ruin it now.”

So she didn’t.

And in not acting, she’d destroyed two friendships — one with Avira, and one with Kaizen.

She searched quietly for Avira in the corners of the city, not sure what she’d do if she found her. Apologize....Beg....Try to explain...

But she also knew some things couldn’t be rebuilt.

Not trust.

Not the way Kaizen used to smile at her like she was still his little princess.

---

The dining room felt too polished, too full of fake laughter.

Kaizen barely touched his food, eyes flicking toward his sister every now and then.

She laughed at their father’s stories, brushed imaginary lint from her designer dress, and looked like a woman who had everything she’d ever dreamed of.

When the plates were cleared, Kaizen stood without a word.

He didn’t wait for coffee.

Didn’t wait for pleasantries.

“Kaira,” he said, his voice like steel in a velvet sheath, “Come with me.”

She blinked, feigning confusion, but followed him down the hallway, past the guest rooms, to the balcony where the city stretched out in glittering silence.

The door shut behind them with a sharp click.

“You’ve been looking for her,” he started —— “Haven’t you?”

Her throat tightened. “Kaizen, I—”

“You don’t get to stammer. You don’t get to hesitate now.” His voice was low, but each word landed like a blow. “You were the one who told me she betrayed me. You were the one who made me believe she didn’t care. And when she needed someone — anyone — you stood there. Watching.”

Her hands curled into fists. “I was young—”

“You were sixteen,” he cut in. “Old enough to know the difference between protecting your brother and destroying the girl he loved.”

The wind carried the faint scent of rain. She looked away, but he stepped closer.

“Do you have any idea what it was like for me,” his voice broke, raw for the first time, “to find out years later that she wasn’t the villain you painted her to be. That she—” His jaw locked, emotion clawing at him. “That she suffered, Kaira. While you… you were chasing your dream roles, taking photo shoots, smiling for fans.”

Her voice cracked before she could stop it. “I was scared, Kaizen. They would’ve turned on me too. I thought… I thought I was keeping you safe.”

He laughed — bitter, hollow. “Safe? I didn’t need safe. I needed truth. And because of you, I lost her.”

The guilt she’d kept buried rose to her throat like bile.

Her chin trembled, but she held her composure — barely. “I’m sorry. I’ve been looking for her… to tell her that. But maybe it’s too late.”

His eyes burned into hers. “It is too late, Kaira. Not just for her… for us.”

He turned, leaving her on the balcony, the city lights casting a cold glow over her frozen silhouette.

He went to his private loft — it smelled faintly of turpentine and bourbon.

He unlocked the door and stepped into the quiet chaos of his sanctuary: canvases leaning against walls, brushes scattered and the dim golden light that made everything look like a memory.

He poured himself a drink without measuring, the burn barely registering as he sat in front of canvas.

And then — with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling — he began to paint her.

The woman she was now.

Strong, guarded Avira that pushed him away... But he can't help it.

One silhouette became another.

One glass became four.

By dawn, the floor was littered with sketches — her hair in the wind, her eyes catching light, her lips parting like they were about to say his name.

The next day, he couldn’t stay away.

He found her.

Not by accident — he’d learned her patterns in less than 24 hours.

The NGO she ran.

The grocery shop she stop by.

The route she took when she went for morning walks with her brother.

From a distance, he watched.

Always just far enough to blend into the world, but close enough to breathe the same air.

Every time she laughed with someone else, something in him tightened.

Every time she brushed a strand of hair from her face, he remembered how it felt against his fingers.

And the more he saw, the more he wanted.

Watching her was supposed to be enough.

But the heart is a greedy creature — it doesn’t know limits.

Soon, it wasn’t just about seeing her smile.

It was about wanting to be the reason for it.

To be in the room she entered, to catch the floorboards creak beneath her steps, to live in the space between her breaths.

He told himself he was gathering information.

But deep down, he knew the truth —

He was feeding an addiction.

The hall shimmered with formality — high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, gleaming under the soft light. Important figures sat in clusters, voices low and calculated, the air thick with influence and expectation.

Kaizen should’ve been at the head of the table.

It was his place now, the position his father had been easing him into for months.

But tonight, he let his father take the throne.

He had other priorities.

He’d arranged his seat with precision — next to Avira, close enough to lean back, to rest his arm along the back of her chair in a casual show that was anything but casual.

She sat composed, unaware of the war he was fighting just to keep from brushing her shoulder.

The faint trace of her smell drifted to him — warm, familiar, devastating.

Every inhale felt like a confession.

From across the table, members noticed.

The way his eyes lingered on her.

The subtle shift of his body whenever she spoke.

The almost imperceptible curve to his lips when she looked away.

But no one noticed more than his father.

Kaizen had always been hard to read in public — precise, calculated.

Yet here, with this woman, he was transparent.

His gaze on Avira wasn’t just affection — it was obsession, a man looking at the centre of his world.

And for the first time, his father realised there was a story here.

A story deep enough to pull his son’s focus away from power, position, and politics.

After the meeting, he began his quiet investigation.

It didn’t take long to unravel the truth — the history, the betrayal, the torment Avira had endured, and the unthinkable truth that his own daughter had been the cause.

The revelation landed heavy.

His daughter — his pride, his princess — had been heartless.

First, he had Kaira in his study. No fatherly softness, no indulgent smiles — just the raw weight of a truth she couldn’t dodge.

> “You may be my daughter, Kaira, but I will not protect you from your own sins. You took something from your brother that can’t be replaced. And you will face that.”

That night, behind closed doors, his voice was a whip.

He stripped away every excuse, every shield she’d built.

Every sentence was a reminder of the weight of her actions — how a single choice had splintered lives, how cruelty doesn’t vanish just because you look away from it.

Kaira sat silent, the first cracks forming in the façade she’d worn for years.

For the first time, she didn’t feel like a celebrated actress or the adored daughter.

She felt exactly what she was — guilty.

And Kaizen… Kaizen wasn’t there to witness it.

He was too busy watching Avira leave the building, memorising the sway of her hair in the night air, still caught in a madness his father now understood all too well.

___

Adrian Kingston had always been a man who read people better than they read themselves. The moment he saw his son Kaizen’s eyes fixed on Avira across that long, mahogany table, he knew. It wasn’t just attraction — it was obsession wrapped in tenderness, the kind of love that could burn kingdoms or rebuild them from ash.

From that day on, Adrian silently appointed himself the captain of this particular ship. He didn’t say it out loud — God forbid his stubborn son or the equally stubborn girl . But he worked in quiet, strategic moves: arranging for Avira to be called in on matters that conveniently “required her expertise,” placing Kaizen on assignments that crossed her path, and ensuring their seats were just a little too close during council gatherings.

He watched every glance, every subtle brush of a hand, every battle of pride between them. Kaizen played it like a man in control, but Adrian saw the storm beneath. And Avira… she wore her cold armor well, but Adrian had lived long enough to recognize the cracks.

The more he learned about the past — the truth of Kaira’s betrayal, the years Avira endured — the more Adrian’s quiet mission turned into personal resolve. His daughter would have to face her mistakes, and his son… well, his son would get the chance to fight for the only woman he’d ever truly loved.

Then, the invitations began. Business councils, charity galas, private dinners — each one “coincidentally” featuring Avira on the guest list. Adrian personally ensured Kaizen’s seat was within arm’s reach of hers. He would watch as Kaizen leaned back, arm draped casually over the back of her chair, his eyes drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. And Adrian… would pretend not to notice, even as he noticed everything.

It wasn’t manipulation. It was navigation.

In Adrian’s mind, love was a voyage. And even if Kaizen and Avira were fighting every wave and gust of wind, he was the captain who’d make damn sure they reached the same shore.

____

Avira.

And beside her, Kaizen.

It wasn’t subtle. Kaizen had shifted his chair just enough so his knee brushed hers under the table. His arm rested along the back of her chair, his fingers barely grazing the silk of her hair when he leaned forward to speak to someone across the table. To anyone else, it might have looked like casual charm. To Avira, it felt like a low, constant hum in the air — an awareness that sat heavy on her skin.

She tried to focus on Adrian’s strict voice as he discussed some upcoming charity initiative, but Kaizen’s gaze was a living thing, slow and deliberate. It tracked her like a predator watching prey, not with cruelty… but with that dangerous mix of want and patience.

Adrian noticed.

When Avira reached for the wine, Adrian casually gestured for Kaizen to pour it for her.

Kaizen obeyed without hesitation, his large hand wrapping around the bottle, his other hand steadying her glass — his fingers brushing hers just enough to send a spark that lingered long after he pulled back.

Adrian hid his satisfaction behind a sip of his drink. The boy was already halfway to begging without Avira even asking. He just needed the right push.

> “Kaizen, why don’t you take Avira through the plans after dinner? She should be fully briefed before tomorrow,” Adrian said, his tone perfectly neutral.

Kaizen’s lips curved — not the polite smile for the table, but something darker, meant for her alone.

> “Of course,” he said, eyes never leaving hers. “I’ll make sure she understands… everything.”

And in that moment, Adrian knew the course was set.

She could feel it again — that slow, heavy heat of his gaze, the kind that didn’t just watch but cornered her.

Every time their eyes met across the table, across the hall, across the quiet moments between conversations… it felt like someone was arranging her, piece by piece, into a trap she don't know.. And yet… she didn’t look away.

She wasn’t blind — she saw the way his jaw eased when she smiled, the way his shoulders straightened when she entered a room. She saw truth in him, a truth she had never doubted. Kaizen had always been that — hers, in some unspoken, impossible way.

But the thought of having him in her arms..

That was where the dream curdled into a nightmare.

She’d try — gods, she’d try — to imagine closing that distance, letting herself fall into what she felt. But before she could reach him, the walls inside her rose like reflex.

Her subconscious whispered the same brutal mantras it always did:

You’re not allowed.

You can’t.

You’re not worth him.

And yet, she loved him.

She knew she did.

How could she not, when every heartbeat seemed to learn his name.

But love, for her, had never been permission.

_____

The party wasn’t for her, yet it felt like a stage where everyone could see the cracks she’d tried so hard to keep hidden.

Adrian’s invitation had been deliberate — she knew that much.

But when she learned it was Kiara’s birthday, her stomach knotted.

She didn’t want to come. She hated the idea. The thought of being in the same space as Kiara made her skin prickle. What if she said something? What if she revealed everything?

The job… her father’s kindness… none of it felt hers to keep. Kiara had never physically harmed her, never screamed or pointed fingers — but her shadow lingered. It lived in Avira’s mind, whispering that she would never be enough. That someone like Kiara would always stand above her.

She spotted Kiara moving through the crowd — moving toward her.

Her heart skipped. Then sped.

Before she even thought about it, she turned away, weaving through strangers. The music was loud, but all she could hear was her own ragged breathing. Her mind spun with one fear on repeat:

She’s going to tell me I’m worthless. Again.

The air felt too thin.

Her hands shook.

Somewhere behind her, she heard Kiara’s voice — soft, broken — “I’m sorry.”

The words reached her. But they barely registered. Because the panic had already taken over.

Her knees went weak.

Her vision blurred.

And before she could even brace herself, darkness swelled in from the edges.

The last thing she saw was Kaizen — his expression shifting from confusion to horror — rushing toward her as her body gave way.

.

.

Kaizen hadn’t even seen her enter. He was tied up in talks, handling guests, keeping his father’s seat warm in his absence.

When he finally stepped into the main hall, he caught sight of Kiara speaking to Avira.

It seemed civil enough. Neutral.

He allowed himself that small sigh of relief.

But then Kiara’s voice broke — sharp, urgent.

He turned just in time to see Avira’s body crumple, her hair spilling forward like a dark curtain as she went limp.

Every inch of calm vanished.

The distance between them dissolved under his boots as he ran, people stepping aside without a word. By the time he reached her, his heartbeat was a drum in his ears.

“Avira—” His voice cracked as he dropped to the floor, one arm cradling her, the other patting her cheek. “Hey. Hey. Look at me.”

Her lashes fluttered but her gaze didn’t catch his.

He simply lifted her into his arms, holding her close against his chest like she was something breakable — like she might vanish if he loosened his grip even a fraction.

The murmur of the crowd dimmed as he strode out, his jaw set.

The party dissolved in his wake, guests exchanging whispers.

She had arrived late, as if trying to avoid being here at all.

And now, she was in his room, lying against the cool sheets while he stood at the edge of the bed, hands braced on either side, watching her breathe as though that alone anchored him.

The doctor arrived within minutes — not just any doctor, but the one who had once trained Avira, the man who knew her stamina, her stubbornness, her refusal to admit weakness.

After a brief examination, he straightened, his voice low but firm.

“It’s a panic attack,” he said. “She’s been under a lot of mental strain. Too much, maybe.”

Kaizen didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. His hand stayed wrapped around hers, thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles as though it might keep her tethered.

Kiara stood near the foot of the bed, her eyes flicking between the doctor and her brother.

She’d seen Kaizen angry. She’d seen him ruthless in boardrooms, even reckless on the field.

But this—

This was different.

This was him afraid.

“She’ll need rest,” the doctor continued, packing away his instruments. “Avoid unnecessary stress. Keep her calm. She’s strong, but…” He glanced at Kaizen, and the unspoken don’t let this happen again hung heavy in the air.

Kaizen gave no answer. He only adjusted his hold on her hand, pressing it closer to his chest.

After months — months of distance, silence, and shadows — she was here, within reach. He could feel the faint pulse in her wrist. And even if this closeness came at the cost of her distress, he couldn’t make himself let go.

Not yet.

---

She was weightless, falling.

Voices swirled in her head, the old ones she thought she’d buried—accusations, whispers, sneers.

Gold digger.

Not worth it.

You don’t belong here.

She tried to fight them off, tried to speak over them, and in the haze of the nightmare her voice broke out in fragments—

“I’m not… I’m not a gold digger… I—”

Somewhere through the noise, there was a different sound.

Her name.

A low, urgent voice pulling her back.

She woke with a sharp inhale, lungs struggling against the thick weight in her chest. Sweat dampened her temples, and her breaths came shallow, uneven.

Before she could shrink back, before she could vanish into herself again, Kaizen was there—hands warm and steady, sliding behind her shoulders.

“Easy… breathe,” he murmured, guiding her upright. She pushed weakly at his chest, but his grip only tightened, pulling her into his lap as if that was the most natural thing in the world.

Strong arms locked around her, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other rubbing slow, grounding circles against her spine.

“Stop—Kaizen—” her voice was hoarse, but he only leaned down, catching her gaze with that infuriating, unshakable certainty.

“You’re fine. You deserve everything you’ve got,” he said, each word like it was carved in stone. “And if we’re talking worth…” his jaw tightened, eyes fierce, “you’re worth more than my own damn existence.”

The words struck deeper than they should have. She hated the way they made her want to stay right there, in his hold, safe and seen—

Because safety had always been the most dangerous trap.

Her breaths were still uneven, each inhale dragging against the knot in her chest.

She knew she should move away, create that safe distance again—but her fingers betrayed her, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like she needed the anchor.

It was insane. He was insane.

Filthy rich, born in a world of marble halls and champagne dinners, and yet here he was holding her like nothing else mattered. How could she believe she belonged in the same breath as him.

“Kaizen…” she whispered, trying to push against him, but he only shifted—his hand sliding to the back of her neck, guiding her to look at him.

The intensity in his eyes made her stomach twist.

He didn’t want her to speak, didn’t want excuses. He wanted her.

He was reading her—like he could feel the cracks forming in her walls, hear the quiet surrender in the spaces between her words.

And then, without warning, he kissed her.

Not careful, not polite—reckless, greedy, like a man who’d been starved for too long.

Her mind screamed to stop him, to remember the lines she’d drawn for herself… but her body betrayed her again.

Her hands slid up, curling into his shoulders, pulling him closer until there was no air left between them.

She wasn’t pushing him away.

She was holding on like she’d drown if she let go.

The kiss deepened before she even realized she’d given in.

One second his lips were on hers, the next their breaths tangled—hot, uneven—his tongue brushing against hers in a slow, hungry tease that sent a shiver through her spine.

She was in his lap, the world forgotten, every inch of her pressed against him.

It was reckless—his hand sliding into her hair, the other gripping her waist like he’d never let go. Her own fingers clung to his shirt, then slid up his chest, betraying her with how much she wanted this… how much she wanted him.

The air between them was thick with heat, their lips parting only to pull in a breath before crashing back together, deeper, more desperate. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was years of unspoken longing breaking loose.

And then—

Reality clawed its way back in.

Her chest tightened, her mind flashing that reminder: You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him.

She tried to pull away, but Kaizen didn’t let her go.

Her lips were still tingling when she finally broke the kiss, her breath uneven, her heart slamming against her ribs.

She tried to shift back, but his hands wouldn’t let her. One stayed at her waist, firm and unyielding, the other slid to the back of her neck, holding her still—not to trap her, but to keep her from slipping away again.

“Avira…”

Her name came out like a prayer and a plea all at once.

His gaze was locked on hers—intense, almost desperate. Eyes that had always been sharp now softened, stripped of every shield, begging her to understand.

“Let me close to you,” he whispered, his thumb brushing the edge of her jaw. “Let me… belong to you.”

She froze, her pulse stuttering.

“I’ll do anything you want,” his voice cracked slightly, the rawness betraying him. “Anything. You want me to wait? I’ll wait. You want me to fight the whole damn world for you? I’ll fight. Just… don’t shut me out anymore.”

Her chest tightened painfully.

Because for the first time, it didn’t sound like a man chasing what he couldn’t have—it sounded like a man ready to give everything he was, just for a place in her life.

And his eyes…

They weren’t asking for love.

They were asking for the chance to earn it.

Her chest rose and fell too quickly, the room suddenly too small, too warm.

His words wouldn’t leave her—let me belong to you.

She wanted to tell him she didn’t need anyone.

She wanted to tell him she wasn’t that kind of woman.

But it would be a lie.

Because she did need him.

God, she needed him.

No one else had ever looked at her like she was a masterpiece, like she was something precious worth holding onto.

No one else had ever made her feel home.

Not safe in walls or places—but in arms. His arms.

Her fingers twitched at her sides before they gave up resisting, curling into the fabric at his shoulders. She leaned into him, almost involuntarily, as if her body already knew what her mind still questioned.

“I…” her voice cracked, the words burning at the back of her throat, “Kaizen… I want it. I want… you.”

But then—what if.

What if she wasn’t enough?

What if this feeling shattered?

She pressed her forehead to his, eyes squeezing shut as if it might stop the war inside her. “I’m scared,” she whispered, the confession trembling in the air between them.

His arms tightened instantly, as though he could shield her from every ‘what if’ she’d ever feared.

“You don’t have to be,” he murmured, his lips ghosting against hers. “Not with me. Never with me.”

And for one dangerous, beautiful moment… she believed him.

Her breath shuddered against his neck, fingers fisting the front of his shirt as thoug8h she feared he might vanish if she let go.

“I’ve been told before…” her voice broke, raw and unguarded, “…that I’m not worth it. That I’m nothing but trouble. That I don’t… deserve anything.”

Kaizen’s jaw clenched, the muscle ticking in a way that betrayed the storm behind his eyes. He didn’t loosen his hold—in fact, he dragged her closer, their bodies flush, not an inch of air left between them.

“They were wrong,” he said, low and sharp, each word a vow and a threat rolled into one.

“If anyone says it again—anyone—I’ll end them. Even if it’s my own people. I don’t care. For you, I’d burn every bridge, every rule, every damn law in my way.”

Her eyes lifted to his, wide and searching, and for the first time she didn’t just hear his obsession—she felt it, humming under his skin like a barely contained blaze.

“I know you’re… obsessive,” she whispered, almost like it was a dangerous secret.

His lips twitched into a dark, unapologetic smirk. “Obsessive doesn’t cover it. I’m insane about you. Psychotic, if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

Her heart thundered. She should have been scared—but all she felt was safe. Safe in the arms of a man who’d rather be a monster to the world than let her go.

Her hand slid up his neck, into his hair, pulling him down until her lips barely brushed his.

“I trust you,” she breathed. “I choose you.”

Kaizen froze for the barest moment, as though her words hit deeper than any wound. Then his mouth claimed hers—not with the frantic hunger of before, but with a slow, deliberate kiss that bled truth into every press of his lips.

She melted against him, letting herself submit to the moment, to him. All the walls she’d built crumbled in his arms, and for once, she didn’t care who saw.

Her lips were soft but hungry against his, the taste of her pulling something feral out of him. His hands gripped her waist, drawing her deeper into his lap, the kiss spiraling into a slow, molten make-out. Her fingers tangled in his hair, nails grazing his scalp, and for a moment, Kaizen almost gave in completely—almost.

But then he felt the faint tremor in her breathing, the lingering fragility in her body. He pulled back, pressing his forehead to hers, his chest heaving.

“You need rest,” he murmured, voice rough but steady, as if forcing himself to put her before his own desire.

She gave a soft, reluctant sigh, but didn’t resist when he shifted her in his arms, settling her sideways so her head rested against his shoulder. One arm stayed wrapped around her protectively, the other cradling her hand as though it were something rare and irreplaceable.

“I searched everywhere for you,” he said, the words slipping out low and hoarse. “Every street, every place I thought you might be. I’ve missed you so damn much, Avira… you have no idea what it did to me.”

Her lashes fluttered, but sleep was already pulling her under. For the first time, she let herself drift off in his arms—unguarded, completely defenseless.

Kaizen looked down at her, studying her sleeping face as though committing every detail to memory. Something shifted inside him; he knew this wasn’t just reunion—it was the start of something he wouldn’t let the world destroy.

He lowered his head, brushing the gentlest kiss to her forehead, and tightened his hold as though daring anything to try and take her away again.

“Mine,” he whispered against her skin.

Only when her breathing turned deep and steady did he let himself close his eyes, falling asleep with her held impossibly close to him.

The morning light slipped in through the half-drawn curtains, painting the room in a soft gold. Kaizen was still asleep, one arm locked around Kaira like she might vanish if he let go. His breathing was slow, steady—completely at peace for the first time in months.

The door creaked open. Adrian stepped in quietly, his eyes taking in the scene: his son sprawled in bed, holding Kaira close, both of them looking like the storm of last night never existed. Small smile tugged at his lips.

Finally, he thought. This ship is sailing the right way.

He didn’t disturb them, just leaned against the doorframe for a moment longer before slipping out silently, leaving them in their cocoon.

A soft shift made Kaizen stir, but it was Kaira who woke first. For a heartbeat, she just lay there, listening to the calm thud of his heartbeat under her cheek, feeling the way his warmth wrapped around her like a promise. Then reality rushed back—her eyes widened.

“My phone!” she whispered sharply to herself, sitting up a little too fast.

Kaizen grumbled something sleepy, his arm instinctively trying to pull her back down. But she was already grabbing for her bag on the floor, fishing around until she found her phone. The screen lit up—ten missed calls, twenty texts.

Her stomach dropped. Avian. She haven't told him she wouldn’t be coming.

“Oh no…” she muttered under her breath, guilt pricking her.

Kaizen’s sleepy voice came from behind her. “Who’s making you look like you just committed a crime?”

She turned to him, chewing her lip, phone in hand. “…I forgot to tell Avian I wasn’t coming.”

His expression shifted—somewhere between annoyance and “don’t-care”—but his voice stayed low. “He’ll be fine. You were where you were meant to be.” And with that, he reached out, catching her wrist to pull her back against him.

Before she could even type out a message, Kaizen’s arm looped around her waist and dragged her back into his lap with that unshakable grip of his.

“You’re not escaping,” he murmured against her ear, voice still husky from sleep.

“Kaizen—” she started, but he was already settling her sideways on him, his chin resting on her shoulder, his arms caging her in like steel chains.

“You can text whoever you want,” he said lazily, “but you’re doing it right here. In my arms.”

Her heartbeat picked up—not because of the phone situation, but because of how unapologetically possessive he was. She could feel the faint trace of a smile against her skin, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, opening her messages anyway.

He hummed softly, his fingers brushing absentminded circles on her hip. “And don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

Avira tried to focus on her phone screen, but it was impossible with his warmth pressed into her back and his steady breathing on her neck. She typed out a quick apology to Avian, her thumb hesitating before hitting send—half-aware that Kaizen’s gaze had flicked down to her phone for a second before returning to her face.

“Done?” he asked, tone almost too casual.

She nodded, and before she could slip away, his arms tightened again. “Good. Now you’re mine for the morning.”

Avian’s reply came almost instantly: “Calling you.”

Her phone rang and she instinctively started to get up, but Kaizen’s arm around her waist didn’t budge.

“Answer from here,” he said lazily, his voice rough with sleep.

“Kaizen…” she warned.

“What? I’m comfortable. And so are you,” he murmured, pulling her even closer.

“Your father’s probably walking around, and my brother’s on the line. I can’t—”

“You can. Just stay.”

But she pushed against his chest, finally managing to break free with more force than she expected.

“I need to use the washroom, unless you’re volunteering to deal with that too,” she said, giving him a pointed look.

Kaizen sighed dramatically, throwing his head back into the pillow. “Fine. But don’t take too long, Avira. That bed feels empty without you.”

She rolled her eyes, heading toward the washroom, muttering, “You’re ridiculous.”

From the bed, his muffled reply followed her: “Ridiculously in love with you.”

---

When she stepped out of the washroom, hair dripping down her shoulders, she found Kaizen waiting in the middle of the room like he’d been counting every second.

Without a word, he motioned her closer, holding the hairdryer in one hand.

She hesitated — his gaze was unreadable, but that quiet intensity had her walking toward him like gravity itself was pulling her.

The moment she was within reach, his free hand slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

“Don’t move,” he murmured, his breath brushing her ear. “Let me.”

Warm air hummed between them as he guided the dryer through her damp hair, his fingers combing through the strands, slow and deliberate. Every so often, his fingertips lingered against her neck, his thumb grazing her jaw as if he couldn’t decide whether to keep drying her hair… or kiss her senseless.

“You know,” he said lowly, almost to himself, “if serving you like this makes me your slave… then I’d rather never be free.”

Her lips parted, heart hammering. “Kaizen…”

He looked at her then —as if she was the only thing in existence. “Don’t you get it, Avira... I want to be yours. In every way. Even if it means losing myself.”

By the time he finished, her hair was warm and soft against her skin… but her pulse was a riot, because every stroke, every touch had left a promise unspoken.

She had barely sat down when his voice came from the bathroom.

“Wait for me,” Kaizen said, and something about his tone made her pulse skip.

When he finally emerged, she realized it wasn’t an accident — the towel slung dangerously low around his waist was intentional.

His hair was damp, the ink of the tattoo curling over his shoulder glistening with droplets. Her eyes betrayed her before she could help it, sliding over the defined lines of his abs, the way the water traced paths down his skin.

He caught her looking. Smirked. Slowly rubbed the towel through his hair, muscles flexing with each movement, his gaze locked on her like he was cataloging every flicker of her reaction.

“You could… help me with this,” he said, holding the towel out to her.

It was forward. Too fast. But with him, too fast felt like the only pace that made sense.

She stood, taking the towel, her fingertips brushing the warm skin of his neck as she began to dry his hair.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low, “you’re making me think you like having me like this.”

She tilted her head, a silly smile playing at her lips. “Maybe I do"

His jaw tightened at that, eyes darkening — but he didn’t move away.

Instead, when she lowered the towel, he caught her wrist, tugging her flush against him, the towel around his waist barely holding on.

His mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was less about hunger and more about possession.

When he finally pulled back, breathless but grinning, his gaze swept over her — at the dress he had chosen for her, soft fabric falling perfectly against her curves.

“You look…” He shook his head, almost laughing under his breath. “God, Avira you look so beautiful it’s driving me insane.”

___

When Kaizen came out dressed, there was no more teasing smirk — just that steady, grounding presence. Without asking, he slipped his fingers through hers.

“Come on,” he said, his tone firm but warm.

She hesitated on the landing, looking down at the hall below. This isn’t just walking into breakfast… this is walking into their world.

But his grip didn’t waver — solid, reassuring, a silent promise that she wouldn’t be alone in this.

As they descended the staircase, her thoughts kept tangling with themselves. You’ve worked for years, fought for every scrap of dignity you have. You’ve earned your place… maybe you’ve even earned the right to have him.

By the time they reached the dining room, Adrian was already seated, his face breaking into a genuine smile.

“Good morning,” he said, in that fatherly tone that made her chest feel both warm and painfully tight.

Sara’s presence was less intimidating — graceful, elegant, but her eyes were soft when they fell on Avira. Kaizen didn’t let go of her hand, almost as if he was presenting her.

Adrian glanced at Sara with a subtle nod — a private signal that needed no words. They’d talked last night. Sara knew.

She’s the one. The girl their son’s heart had chosen.

Sara’s smile grew warmer. “Avira, dear, sit. Have breakfast with us.”

Kaizen didn’t give her the chance to refuse — he guided her to the chair, almost forcing her to sit before she could invent an excuse.

Kiara leaned in from across the table, her tone encouraging. “Don’t look so tense. It’s just food."

Avira tried to smile, though the pressure in her chest didn’t loosen. The weight of being here, in this family’s warmth, was almost more than she could bear.

If something goes wrong…

But Kaizen’s hand brushed hers under the table, a quiet anchor.

She glanced at him — and for a moment, all the fears went quiet.

Avira had always been comfortable with Adrian.

They’d spoken plenty of times before — sometimes with easy banter, sometimes with her asking for advice as if he were some friendly senior at work.

But today… it felt different.

Because today, she wasn’t just talking to Adrian.

She was sitting across from Kaizen’s father.

And that made every glance, every word, suddenly carry more weight.

Sara’s gentle smile should have made things easier. She was the kind of woman who could make anyone feel welcome — warm eyes, soft voice, and not an ounce of judgement in her gaze.

But Adrian’s quiet, assessing presence had her sitting straighter, her palms damp under the table.

Kaizen noticed. Of course, he noticed.

He leaned slightly toward her, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

“Breathe, Avira. He’s still the same man you’ve always talked to. And I’m right here.”

She glanced at him — and found no trace of shyness in his expression.

When it came to her, Kaizen never held back.

A moment later, Adrian spoke, breaking the fragile tension.

“So… I hear my son’s been dragging you all over the city looking for you.”

Avira’s cheeks warmed. Before she could fumble for an answer, Kaizen jumped in without hesitation.

“Dragged? No. I searched for her. Everywhere. And I’d do it again.”

Adrian’s brows lifted slightly at his son’s unabashed tone, then his mouth curved into a small, approving smile.

Sara chuckled softly. “Well, I’m glad you found her. Now both of you — eat.”

Kaizen didn’t let go of her hand even under the table. Every now and then, his thumb traced lazy, proprietary circles against her skin. When she reached for the juice jug, he leaned forward to pour it for her before she could touch it.

When she shifted in her seat, his palm pressed lightly against her knee — a small, grounding touch, but one that spoke volumes.

Avira smiled politely, thanked Sara for the breakfast, tried to keep her posture perfect. But the heat of Kaizen’s nearness, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing in the room worth noticing, made it hard to breathe evenly.

Adrian noticed all of it.

The way his son’s gaze sharpened whenever another man so much as looked in her direction — even if it was just the waiter bringing tea.

The subtle tension in Kaizen’s shoulders when Avira laughed at something Sara said, as though joy itself was something he wanted to guard.

It wasn’t the first time Adrian had seen these signs.

He’d seen Kaizen’s brand of love before — fierce, unyielding, and dangerous in the wrong light. The kind of love that could protect… or cage.

He sipped his tea slowly, never breaking his calm expression. But in his mind, he weighed the truth:

If Avira could keep Kaizen tethered, this fire might warm them both.

If not… the flames would be too wild to contain.

He leaned back in his chair, studying Avira. Not with judgement, but with the quiet weight of a man who had seen where unchecked obsession could lead.

If she could keep that leash in her hand, if she could guide Kaizen’s fire without letting it consume them both… maybe this could work.

But if she let go?

Adrian knew his son well enough to fear the answer.

Kaizen barely noticed what he ate.

The toast, the tea, the voices around him — all background noise. His attention was fixed on the slight curve of Avira’s fingers as she held her fork, the faint crease between her brows when she tried to keep her composure, the way she avoided looking at him for too long as if that would weaken her defenses.

He felt Adrian’s gaze on him more than once.

Not sharp, not accusing — measuring. His father was a man who read storms before they broke, and Kaizen knew he’d already seen enough to guess the depth of this obsession.

It didn’t matter.

Avira was his.

In the most literal, unshakable way possible. She just didn’t know the extent of it yet.

When Kaira passed the salt to Avira, Kaizen’s jaw tightened before he caught himself. Stupid. Kaira was his sister. But it didn’t matter — he didn’t like anyone inserting themselves into Avira’s space unless he allowed it.

He glanced at his father once. Their eyes met for a moment.

A warning?

A question?

Kaizen didn’t care enough to decode it.

He leaned closer to Avira instead, his lips almost brushing her ear as he murmured, “Eat. You’ll need the energy later.”

The faint blush that bloomed across her cheeks was worth every ounce of scrutiny in the room.

Let Adrian watch.

Let the whole world watch.

If they had a problem, they could take it up with him.

And he didn’t lose.

Sara was stacking the plates in the kitchen when Adrian closed the door behind them.

He didn’t speak immediately — just stood there, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the table like he was calculating something invisible.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” he finally asked.

Sara glanced over her shoulder. “Saw what?”

He gave her a look — the kind that stripped the question bare.

“Kaizen. The way he looks at her. The way the room doesn’t exist for him if she’s in it.”

Sara sighed, a mix of exasperation and fondness. “He’s in love, Adrian. Isn’t that what we wanted.. Someone to soften him..

“This isn’t soft, Sara,” Adrian said quietly. “This is… fixation. I’ve seen that look before — in men who’ll burn cities if they think it’ll keep what’s theirs.”

Sara set the last plate down, her hands pausing mid-air. “You think he’d hurt her?”

“No,” Adrian said, shaking his head. “Never her. But God help anyone who comes between them. And if she ever… tried to leave…”

He trailed off, jaw tightening.

Sara’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Then we make sure she doesn’t want to.”

Adrian met her eyes — the unspoken agreement settling between them.

For Kaizen. For the child they’d raised, who’d finally found the one person who could calm him… and the one person who could just as easily destroy him.

The car stopped just outside the painted gates of the small, vibrant colony. Murals of rainbows, lotus flowers, and powerful, smiling faces adorned the walls — each brushstroke telling a story Avira knew by heart.

This wasn’t just a place. This was hers. A safe haven ... build for trans and third-gender people who had nowhere else to go.

Avian was waiting just inside, grinning the way only someone who’d been there since day one could.

“This is—” Avira began, ready to introduce Kaizen as her friend.

“Her boyfriend,” Kaizen cut in without even glancing at her, his voice low but claiming every syllable.

Her head whipped toward him. “Kaizen—”

Avian blinked, surprise flickering for a moment before his lips curved in a sly smile. “Oh? Interesting.”

Before she could salvage the introduction, the colony began to stir. The aunty from the tailoring unit peeked out, a few of the young member from the dance troupe strolled over, even the elders from the main hall stepped outside, curiosity alive in their eyes.

For Avira, this wasn’t gossip. This was scrutiny.

Anyone who came close to her was put under the microscope here. If they didn’t respect her people, they didn’t belong in her life.

One tall elder with striking kajal-lined eyes crossed arms. “Boyfriend, hmm? Then he must prove he is good enough.”

Kaizen’s mouth twitched — not with arrogance, but with that wolfish readiness Avira had seen before.

And so it began.

“Help us carry the ration bags from the truck,” someone called.

He did. Every sack. Without a word.

“Can you cook for twenty people?” a younger member from the kitchen teased.

“Tell me where the masalas are,” he said, rolling up his sleeves.

An hour later, he’d lifted crates, brewed coffee for the sewing unit, fixed a broken speaker in the dance hall, and listened — really listened — to their stories without a hint of condescension.

By the time the sun dipped lower, the once-curious eyes had softened. Smiles replaced suspicion. A few cheeky whistles followed them as they headed toward her home.

Avira, still dazed by how easily he had navigated her most guarded circle, muttered, “You know… this place is my safe space. They’re my family.”

Kaizen looked down at her, eyes holding a rare softness. “Good. Then they should know the man who intends to spend his life in it.”

The sun had already dipped low, staining the sky in burnt orange and violet. The colony was quieter now — the laughter and chatter from earlier giving way to the calm hum of evening.

Avira stood near the gate, arms folded. “You should head back,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “It’s late. And Avian needs me here tonight.”

Kaizen didn’t move. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, gaze fixed on her like the world behind him didn’t exist.

“You’re not coming?” he asked, as if he already knew the answer but needed to hear it from her lips.

“No,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be here with him.”

Something shifted in his expression — not anger exactly, but that deep, sharp look she’d come to recognize. The one that said he was already thinking of a way to bend reality to his will.

“Then I’ll stay,” he said simply.

She blinked. “Stay? Kaizen, this isn’t your—”

“Don’t care,” he cut in, his tone low but steady. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“I’m not alone, Avian is here—”

“Avian’s not me,” he said, stepping closer, voice laced with something darker now. “And I’m not spending the night wondering if you’re safe, or if someone here tries to get too close to you. I’ve seen how people look at you, Avira. I’m not—” He stopped himself, jaw tight. “I’m not letting you slip out of my sight.”

Her pulse quickened. This wasn’t the protective Kaizen she knew from before — this was something more… consuming. Back then, his possessiveness had felt like an intense crush. Now, it was a need, like he breathed better when she was in reach, and suffocated when she wasn’t.

She tried to keep her voice light, to shake off the heaviness in the air. “You’re acting like some… yandere boyfriend from a bad drama.”

“Maybe I am,” he said, not even blinking. “But you’re still mine.”

The quiet around them deepened. For a moment, she thought of telling him to stop — to remind him there were lines. But part of her… didn’t.

Avira crossed her arms, trying to steel herself. “Kaizen… go. When you come here next time, I’ll arrange a room for you, alright?”

He didn’t move. His jaw tightened, like the idea of leaving her here physically hurt him. “I don’t want to.”

“I know,” she said softly, “but you have to.”

For a long moment, he just stared at her — that deep, unreadable gaze that seemed to pin her to the spot. Then, without warning, he stepped forward, his hand curling around the back of her neck, and kissed her.. Not something polite. It was hard, unyielding, almost desperate — the kind of kiss that left her no choice but to melt into it.

His arm slid around her waist, pulling her against him, holding her like he could brand her with his touch. She felt her knees weaken, her breath caught between his insistence and her own traitorous need to respond.

When he finally broke away, his lips lingered just a fraction from hers, his voice low and rough. “You’ll think of me.” It wasn’t a request — it was a statement.

Then he stepped back, his eyes still locked on hers, and left.

Even after the sound of his footsteps faded, she could feel him — in the taste he’d left on her lips, in the ghost of his hand at her waist, in the way her heartbeat refused to calm. She pressed a palm to her chest, shaking her head. How had she survived all this before.

That night, Avira sat on the edge of her bed, towel-drying her hair. The room felt bigger than usual… and emptier.

She told herself she should be relieved. He’d gone. She had space to breathe. But the silence felt unnatural, like the air itself was missing his weight.

She lay back, staring at the ceiling. In her mind, his gaze still burned into her — that unblinking, consuming look he gave her before leaving. Her lips tingled from where he’d kissed her; her waist still remembered the pull of his arm. It was ridiculous. It had been hours, yet it was as if he hadn’t left at all.

She turned to one side, hugging the pillow closer. His scent wasn’t there, but she swore she could feel the heat of him behind her, like his arms could wrap around her at any second.

Her phone lit up. A message.

Kaizen: You’re thinking about me.

She bit her lip, heart racing. She didn’t reply — not right away. She couldn’t let him know he was right.

Kaizen: Don’t try to deny it, Avira. I can feel it.

Her throat went dry. She tossed the phone onto the bed, turning away from it. But the truth was, she was thinking of him. She always did. And maybe that was the problem.

Even without him here, he was everywhere.

---

It was barely dawn when Kaizen arrived. The colony was still half-asleep, quiet except for the faint hum of ceiling fans and the occasional rustle of someone shifting in bed. He didn’t bother knocking — Avian already knew the kind of man he was dealing with.

Avian was the first to spot him in the living room, standing there like he owned the air itself.

“Early,” Avian muttered, crossing his arms.

Kaizen’s smirk was faint but unapologetic. “Couldn’t sleep without her.”

Avian eyed him for a long moment, then sighed. “She calls your name in her sleep sometimes, you know. You better make sure she’s never calling it for help.”

“I’d burn the world before I let that happen,” Kaizen replied, and the way he said it made Avian believe him.

A truce of sorts passed between them. Avian stepped aside, letting him into the kitchen. By the time the sky outside shifted from black to soft grey, Kaizen had made breakfast — not just for Avira, but for Avian too. It was simple, warm, and… unexpectedly good.

When he finally stepped into her room, she was still curled under the covers, face soft in sleep. He crouched beside her, brushing the back of his fingers along her cheek.

Her lips twitched into the faintest smile. Still half-dreaming, she caught his hand and pressed a sleepy kiss to his knuckles. His heart stuttered.

For a man so controlled and intense, that tiny, innocent act cracked something wide open inside him.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she giggled when she saw him. “Kaizen…?”

He smiled — “Good morning, my love.”

And for a moment, it was as if the whole night apart had never happened.

Avira padded into the small dining space, hair messy, eyes still warm from sleep. The table was already set — plates steaming, the smell of spiced eggs and toasted bread filling the air. Avian sat opposite Kaizen, eating with the kind of suspicion that never fully went away.

“You cook?” she asked, a little surprised.

Kaizen didn’t look up from buttering her bread. “For you..Always.” He slid the plate toward her before she could touch anything else. “Eat this first. You skipped dinner last night.”

Avian arched a brow. “She’s capable of feeding herself, you know.”

Kaizen didn’t even flinch. “I know. But she doesn’t eat enough when she’s tired.” His eyes flicked to her, that steady, watching gaze making her cheeks warm. “And I’m not here to watch her waste away.”

She sat down, trying to ignore how both seemed to be sizing each other up over her head. Every time she reached for something, Kaizen was already passing it to her — water..even pulling the plate closer when she leaned forward.

It should have been overbearing. But the way he did it, so casual yet so decided, made her pulse quicken.

“You know you’re acting like her husband already, right?” Avian muttered.

Kaizen’s fork didn’t pause. “Good. Then I’m getting practice.”

She nearly choked on her tea. “Kaizen—”

He leaned back slightly, watching her sip. “What? I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

That was the thing with him — even in the most mundane moments, even while sharing breakfast in a dining room, his presence wrapped around her like invisible chains. Gentle, yes… but unyielding.

Breakfast plates done, Avian gone for practice, and Avira just trying to catch a breath. Then—Kaizen. Silent, but impossible to miss. His arms slide around her waist, pulling her tight, like he’s afraid she might vanish.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, breath hot near her ear—barely half a day apart but feels like forever.

Before she can think, he spins her, lips crashing down with desperate hunger. His hands cup her face, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss—slow, intense, possessive.

Her heart’s racing, every nerve alive as she clings back, matching the fire. No words needed—he’s hers, but she owns him in ways deeper than possession.

They’re tangled, breathless, lost in the kind of silence only lovers understand.

Just as Kaizen’s hands started to wander, his phone buzzed sharply—legal business, the “clean” side of his empire demanding attention.

He groaned, annoyed, ready to snap back at the caller. But then—Avira’s laugh. Light, genuine, the kind of laugh that could cut through the darkest storm.

He froze. That laugh felt like music to his restless soul. How he wished she’d laugh like that forever, right beside him.

He couldn’t even complain.

Pulling back just enough, he brushed a soft kiss on her forehead. “See you later,” he whispered, eyes burning with promise.

Weeks passed. The storm inside Avira had calmed just enough to let a fragile peace seep through.

Kiara, humbled and bruised by guilt, reached out. Not out of selfishness this time — but because the past wouldn’t let her sleep either. Kaizen’s quiet backing gave Kiara the courage she’d never had before.

Their meeting wasn’t easy. The air was thick with unspoken apologies and old wounds. Avira’s voice trembled but carried a new strength as she spoke.

“I won’t forget. And maybe I can’t. Some memories... they don’t vanish. They live inside you, shape you. But I’m done letting them control me.”

Kiara’s eyes filled with tears — not of self-pity but raw remorse.

“Avira, I was so wrong. I was scared, and I let them use me. I hurt you when you needed a friend the most. I’m sorry — truly.”

Avira nodded. “Sorry is the first step. But actions... actions have weight. I hope you’ve learned that. Because love and friendship..They’re not games or power plays. They’re sacred.”

Kiara swallowed hard, the lesson cutting deep.

As they parted, a quiet understanding passed between them.. sometimes, that’s enough to keep walking forward.

Avira felt the heavy fog around her heart begin to lift. The relentless mental pressure that had caged her so tightly started to loosen its grip. With Kaizen by her side, she could finally breathe — not just physically, but emotionally. The fortress she had built to protect herself began to show cracks, small but real.

She loved him. Truly, deeply. But love for Avira wasn’t some effortless dream. It was tangled with shadows — the weight of her past, the scars left by betrayal, the harsh reality of survival. Nights of loneliness and fear didn’t just disappear with his touch; they lurked, silent but persistent. Still, his presence was like a quiet rebellion against all that darkness.

Her love was honest, but cautious. She let him in — a little at a time — knowing her walls might never fully come down. Because in her world, love wasn’t just about feeling; it was about enduring, about fighting to hold onto hope when everything else seemed against her.

And Kaizen..He didn’t just see her strength. He saw the vulnerable pieces she hid from the world. He didn’t ask her to be perfect or unbreakable — only to let him be her anchor when the storm hit.

____

It was her mother’s death anniversary—the day that still carved hollows in Avira’s chest. She spoke quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, telling Kaizen how her mother died, how the world had felt so unbearably cruel.

He listened, every word cutting through him like a blade, pain mirrored deep in his eyes. When she finally paused, he didn’t rush to fix or speak. Instead, he held her gaze and said what needed saying:

“You’re not alone anymore.”

His hands cupped her face gently, thumbs brushing away the tears she hadn’t meant to shed. “I promise you, I’ll never let you face that kind of pain again. If anyone dares to hurt you, I’ll take their blood on my hands.”

Avira’s breath hitched. The weight of years, the burden she carried silently—some of it began to lift, replaced by something tender and fierce in his unwavering gaze.

She leaned in, heart fluttering, and allowed herself to be vulnerable. Walls fell. Masks slipped. She whispered, “I want to believe… that I deserve this. That I deserve you.”

Kaizen’s lips curved into a slow, sure smile that cradled her soul. “You deserve every bit of love I have. And more than that, you deserve peace. I’ll spend every day showing you that.”

Their breaths mingled, warm and steady, as he pulled her closer—careful, slow, like touching glass—and in that embrace, Avira felt a fragile hope bloom. Love was no longer just a word. It was a refuge. A home.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, the quiet hum of the evening wrapped around them like a warm blanket. Kaizen’s fingertips traced delicate patterns along Avira’s back, grounding them both in the here and now.

She looked up, eyes shining with a mixture of hope and fear, and whispered, “I want to believe, but sometimes the past feels like a shadow I can’t shake.”

Kaizen pressed his forehead to hers, voice low and steady. “Then lean on me. When the shadows come, I’ll be the light.”

Slowly, their lips met— soft and sure. The kiss was a promise, a beginning of something gentle yet fierce.

As they pulled apart, Avira’s breath caught, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Maybe… maybe I can start again.”

Kaizen smiled back, eyes bright. “We’ll start together.”Days turned into nights, and Kaizen practically became a fixture in Avira’s world—like a warm shadow that never left her side. Mornings began with shared laughter, evenings faded away in quiet conversations where no words were needed, just the comfort of each other’s presence.

He practically lived at her place, but it didn’t feel like an intrusion. Instead, it was home—a sanctuary they built together from broken pieces and whispered dreams. The walls held their secrets, the rooms echoed their soft confessions.

Kaizen’s world shrunk down to her smile, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when nervous, and the gentle strength in her eyes that fought against her fears.

Avira, too, found herself opening doors she thought were forever sealed, letting him in not just as a lover, but as her guardian, her fiercest ally.

____

The phone call came like a thunderclap in their quiet world. Kaizen’s voice was tight, urgent — the underworld never paused, and neither could he. A mission awaited, no room for hesitation. Two months, they said. Two months of darkness, danger, silence.

Avira’s heart shattered in slow, cruel pieces. She wasn’t one to shed tears easily — strength had been her armor all these years. But this time, the thought of losing him, even for a moment, pulled tears she couldn’t hold back.

Her hands trembled as she clung to him, desperate to press every last second into memory. The grip of his arms around her wasn’t just physical—it was her lifeline, the only constant in her chaotic world.

“I’ll come back,” he promised, his lips fierce on hers, “unscratched. I swear it.”

But as his silhouette faded from her sight, the silence swallowed her whole.

Two months stretched like a cold, empty ocean between them. No calls, no whispers. The radio silence was their shield, but for Avira, it felt like a slow unraveling.

She missed him—not just the warmth of his touch or the sound of his voice, but the way he made the world feel bearable. More than she’d ever admitted, even to herself.

Every night, she stared at the space where he used to be, aching for the day he’d return and pull her back from the edge of this endless longing.

Two months and two weeks later, the day finally came.

Kaizen walked through the door, battle-worn and aching, every inch marked by the mission’s scars. His heart pounded not from the fight, but from the thought of seeing Avira again.

But what hit him first was not the soft smile he’d dreamed of—it was her blazing eyes, sharp and fierce with anger.

“You’re late,” she snapped, voice trembling with the weight of every lonely night, every tear unshed. The anger wasn’t just about time—it was the fear, the pain she’d bottled up, exploding all at once.

Kaizen’s chest tightened, the sight of her fury cutting deeper than any wound he carried. He was hurt, yes, but worse—he saw the torment his delay caused in her eyes, and it crushed him.

She stormed forward, but instead of the warm embrace he’d imagined, she roamed her hands over his battered body, checking every cut and bruise like she was marking the toll he’d paid.

He felt the heat of her anger clash with the softness in her touch, and with a gentle growl, he pulled her into his arms.

“My love, come into my arms,” he whispered, his voice steady but fierce.

In that instant, the fury melted away like ice under the sun. Her defenses crumbled, and she clung to him—no longer angry, just aching for the safety only he could give.

The world outside ceased to exist. In his arms. Her love.

Kaizen barely had time to react before Avira grabbed his arm and pulled him down onto a chair. His heart skipped—from the unexpected tenderness in her fierce eyes.

Without a word, she peeled off his shirt. His skin prickled as the cool air met fresh bruises and stitches, and he caught the flush rising to his cheeks—this sudden closeness, the care mixed with that grumpy scowl, was disarming.

Her hands moved like she’d memorized every scar—gentle, yet filled with a worry. She traced the bruises on his knuckles, the swelling on his face, her lips pressing a soft line in disapproval.

“I can’t believe you let yourself get this beaten up,” she grumbled, voice low but fierce. “What were you thinking?”

Kaizen smiled, the warmth in her voice melting his defenses. How could he not. This was Avira—fierce, stubborn, but utterly devoted. And here she was, looking after him like he was the most precious thing she had.

“I’m tougher than I look,” he teased softly, but his eyes said otherwise.

She huffed, shaking her head, but didn’t pull away. Instead, she settled into the moment—a silent promise that no matter the fight outside, inside this space, she had him.

Kaizen didn’t hesitate. With a swift move, he pulled Avira into his lap, her body fitting perfectly against his like she was made for him. The world around them faded as his hands cupped her jaw, tilting her face up.

His lips crashed onto hers—hard, urgent, a storm of need and longing after all those months apart. Their tongues tangled with a teasing hunger, exploring and claiming, mixing lust with the deep-rooted love they couldn’t hide. Avira’s fingers curled into his hair, matching his intensity as they lost themselves in that moment—nothing else mattered but the taste of each other.

Breathless and aching, it was a kiss that said, without words, I’m here. I’m yours. Always.

Their lips reluctantly pulled apart, but the connection lingered — a thin, glistening thread of saliva stretching between them, making the moment deliciously intimate and just a little bit messy. Neither wanted to break free, their eyes locked like two wild storms, fierce with unspoken hunger and burning need.

In that heated gaze, everything was laid bare: the desperate craving, the unyielding passion, the silent promise that neither would let go anytime soon.

Kaizen’s hands moved with a slow, deliberate grace, as if he’d been dreaming of this moment every restless night of their separation. His fingers slipped beneath the edge of her shirt, grazing the soft skin of her waist before inching upward, tracing the delicate curve of her ribs. He pressed his body closer, the heat of him searing against her like a flame long denied.

His lips trailed from her collarbone down to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat, nipping and sucking gently, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Avira’s breath hitched sharply, her pulse quickening under the onslaught of sensation that was equal parts sweet and consuming. She was trembling—partly from his touch, partly from the storm of emotions they’d both been bottling up.

His eyes locked with hers—dark, intense, and hungry—searching for a sign, permission, a surrender.

Then his mouth found the swell of her cleavage, lips parting to taste the tender skin there, lingering longer than necessary, teasing, coaxing her deeper into the intoxicating haze of desire they’d both starved for. His hands gripped her hips firmly, pulling her impossibly closer as his body pressed against hers, every nerve alight with aching need.

They were lost in each other—a magnetic pull neither wanted to resist.Right after that electric moment, they pulled back just enough to breathe — eyes locking with that raw mix of longing and tenderness.

Avira’s hands, now steady and gentle, traced the angry stitches along Kaizen’s knuckles, her fingertips grazing the bruises on his face like a silent apology for all he’d endured.

He caught her gaze, a soft smile tugging at his lips. The physical pain was nothing compared to the ache of being apart — and now, this closeness was their quiet healing.

.

.

One afternoon, just when the afternoon sun filtered lazily through the windows, Avira and Kaizen were caught in one of those moments where the world outside ceased to exist. Their lips met with a hunger sharpened by months apart, teeth grazing, tongues dancing in a rhythm only they knew.

It wasn’t subtle—Kaizen’s hands tangled in her hair, pulling her impossibly closer, while Avira’s fingers traced fire along his jaw. The air was thick, their bodies pressing together like magnets.

And then—click—the unmistakable sound of the front door swinging open. Avira froze, lips still parted, cheeks flushed. Kaizen’s eyes snapped open, caught like a deer in the headlights.

Kaizen’s parents, standing in the doorway, eyes wide, mouths half-open, stunned speechless by the raw intimacy they’d just stumbled upon.

The room went from blazing heat to awkward chill in a heartbeat.

---Kaizen’s parents stood frozen for a moment, eyes darting between the two tangled in a passionate embrace. The silence was deafening—until Avira, cheeks flushed but composed, cleared her throat softly.

Adrian, ever the composed patriarch, was the first to break the silence. He gave a slow, knowing nod .

Sara’s initial shock softened into a gentle smile. “It’s about time,” she added, almost teasing.

Kaizen shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his parents eased into the room. The tension melted, replaced by an unspoken understanding that this was real—no point in pretending otherwise.

Avira gave a shy but genuine smile, feeling the warmth of acceptance wrap around her like a cozy blanket. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t have to hide behind walls or masks.

The family settled down, the awkwardness replaced by laughter and light conversation. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And sometimes, that was all they needed.

Just as the room started to loosen up from that initial awkwardness, the door opened again—Kiara stepped in, looking hesitant but determined. Her eyes briefly flickered over Avira and Kaizen, who were still a little flushed from their earlier closeness.

“Hi,” Kiara said softly, voice a little shaky.

Avira glanced up, surprised but not hostile. Kaizen’s grip on her hand tightened subtly, a silent reassurance.

Adrian gave Kiara a quick nod, gesturing her to sit down. “Come, join us,” he said with a warm tone that surprised everyone.

Kiara took a deep breath and sat beside Sara, stealing a glance at Avira. There was unspoken history, pain, and maybe the first flickers of forgiveness.

The conversation was cautious but genuine. It wasn’t easy, but the ice had started to crack.

By the end of the visit, a fragile bridge was being built—not yet a full reunion, but a step toward something better.

Kiara’s eyes flickered with a mixture of hope and guilt as she sat beside Avira, the weight of old wounds still hanging in the air. “I was so scared,” she admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper, “scared I’d lose you both forever. Kaizen... he’s my brother, but I saw how much he cared. And you—”

Avira interrupted gently, “I know, Kiara. What happened hurt me deeply. But holding on to that pain... it only made things worse.” Her voice softened, the walls around her heart shifting just a little. “You’re not the enemy anymore. Neither is Kaizen. We’re all trying to heal.”

Kiara’s relief was palpable as a small, genuine smile broke across her face. “Thank you for saying that. I never wanted to be the reason for any of the pain. I just wanted us to be whole again.”

Avira’s gaze met his, filled with unspoken promises, as she squeezed his hand. “Together.”

------

Avira never liked birthdays. They were reminders of harder times — lonely mornings, cold meals, whispered prayers for things she couldn’t have. Her past had stolen joy from these days, leaving only a hollow ache. Over the years, she learned to brace herself against the weight of another year passing.

But this birthday

Kaizen wasn’t about to let her drown in old ghosts.

From the crack of dawn, the entire colony gathered, their smiles and warm wishes wrapping around her like a soft blanket. Hands weathered by struggle had prepared breakfast with care — vibrant fruits, steaming chai, and freshly baked breads, all arranged lovingly on a low wooden table. The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air, and for a moment, Avira felt something she hadn’t in years: pure, unfiltered belonging.

She caught Kaizen’s eye, a quiet promise shimmering between them.

Before she could even take a sip of her chai, Kaizen’s mischievous grin appeared, and with a swift but gentle tug, he swept her away — his private “abduction,” just for her. No eyes but theirs, no interruptions, no past shadows.

He held her close as they disappeared into the quiet corners of the colony, whispering, “Today, it’s all about you. No past — just us.”

The drive was long, winding through quiet roads framed by whispering trees, the kind of silence that only meant one thing: they were escaping the world. When they finally arrived, the place felt like a secret carved out just for them. A small cottage-style hotel hugged the edge of a deserted beach, where the waves lapped gently and no footprints marred the pristine sand.

Kaizen opened the door with a flourish, a grin tugging at his lips. From behind his back, he pulled out a small cake, its flickering candlelight dancing in his eyes. Together, they cut the cake — a simple ritual made sacred by the intimacy of the moment.

Then, with a playful smirk, Kaizen wrapped the thin bow around himself and declared, “I am your gift. From now on, you can use me forever .”

Avira burst into laughter, the sound echoing softly against the ocean breeze. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she stepped closer, teasing, “Think twice…” Her fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down his collar, past his chest, to the buckle of his belt.

He didn’t miss a beat. His smirk deepened, voice dropping to a whisper thick with promise. “You can use me, my lord. I’m your slave forever.”

Then, with a flourish worthy of magic, he pulled a ring from his pocket. “Would you like to be part of my life, be mine… or better yet, have me as yours”

The question hung between them, heavy with possibility and the kind of vulnerability.

Her answer was a whisper turned roar in her heart: yes. As the words settled between them, she pulled him close, lips meeting his in a kiss that tasted like forever.

The promise wasn’t just in the ring now—it was in the way their bodies pressed together, the heat that tangled them like fire and silk. She loved everything about him—his strength, his madness, his unwavering devotion. And though she didn’t yet fully realize it, he held all her broken pieces and made them whole again.

Kaizen’s grin stretched wide, his eyes sparkling brighter than any star. Happiness bloomed in his chest like wildflowers in spring. This was it—the beginning of a new forever, with her heart beating wild for him, and his soul forever hers.

---

One kiss led to another, the kind that pulls you deeper into a world where time melts away. Before they knew it, they were inside the hotel room—every corner draped in soft shadows, scented candles flickering like tiny stars. The space was deliberately set—their private universe of whispered promises and unspoken desires.

Kaizen had orchestrated it all, every detail meant to stir her senses, to beckon her closer without a word. But tonight, boundaries weren’t about control—they were about respect, patience, and longing.

Their eyes locked—raw, hungry. The silent conversation between them crackled with anticipation, a mutual craving simmering just beneath the surface.

It was Avira who finally broke the spell—her hand reaching, her touch gentle but fearless. Kaizen’s breath hitched, every fiber of him yearning to follow her lead. He had never wished to cross her line without her willing invitation, and now, watching desire ignite in her gaze, he knew she wanted him just as fiercely as he wanted her: every breath, every inch, every heartbeat.

The dim glow from the soft lights cast a warm hue over the room, their breaths mingling in the quiet space. Her fingers traced down his chest, fingers trembling with excitement and hesitation alike. She slid her hands to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them slowly...each one a small victory, pushing both of them closer to the edge.

But then, as the moment drew near to undressing her, a shadow crossed her eyes. Her hands froze. The playful spark vanished, replaced by something heavier—a sudden tide of doubt crashing in. She swallowed hard, heart racing not from desire, but from an unexpected sting of shame. Her body—marked by bruises, the angry scars—felt exposed in a way that went beyond skin.

Kaizen caught the shift instantly. His hands wrapped around her, pulling her close, grounding her trembling frame against his own. His voice was low, steady, an anchor in the storm.

“What’s wrong, Avira?” he asked gently, his breath warm against her ear.

She hesitated, ashamed to reveal the worn map her body had become. Her eyes darted away, avoiding his gaze.

“I...” she whispered, voice fragile, “I’m… not perfect. Look at me. All these marks... these scars. I’m ugly.”

But Kaizen’s hands tightened ever so slightly, and his lips found hers, slow and sure. His kisses were a silent promise—each one saying she was more than perfect.

He trailed kisses down from her lips, over her jaw, down her neck, his hands cradling the bruised flesh with reverence. Her breath hitched as his lips pressed against the places she thought unlovable. And with every soft moan that escaped her, her walls cracked, her confidence blossoming again.

“Avira,” he murmured between kisses, “these marks tell your story—your strength. I don’t just love you in spite of them... I love all of you.”

His hands glided over the contours of her back, careful, worshipful. She let go, melting into his touch, her fears dissolving in the heat of his unwavering devotion.

Between tender kisses and lingering touches, his voice dropped low, thick with desire, a sultry contrast to his usually composed demeanor. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured against her skin, his breath warm and heavy. “Every inch of you is mine to worship... and I’m not done showing you just how much.”

His words were both a promise and a tease—intimate, daring, and a little filthy, meant only for hers. She shivered, heart pounding as he traced slow patterns over her body, his touch both reverent and hungry. “Don’t hold back, love. I want to hear what you crave—say it for me.”

She met his gaze, eyes shimmering with a mix of vulnerability and fire, whispering back in a breathy voice, “Show me... everything.”

His gaze was a wildfire—dark, consuming, relentless—as if every inch of her was etched into his soul, branded with need. The way her breath hitched, soft and unguarded, was like the sweetest confession only he was worthy to hear. Her moans, low and trembling, stirred something nasty inside him, an exquisite madness that made his heart hammer like a war drum.

He traced slow, worshipful paths along her skin, mapping each curve, every scar, his lips leaving marks that spoke louder than words. Her body responded to him with an unspoken surrender, yet wild, and he drank it in greedily—each shudder, each whisper of her name slipping from trembling lips feeding his obsession.

When she tensed beneath him, riding the waves of pleasure he summoned with careful cruelty and tender command, his own breath hitched. It wasn’t just desire—it was possession, devotion, an almost desperate need to be the only one who could unravel her completely.

His voice dropped to a velvet growl, thick with want “You belong to me,” he breathed, lips barely brushing her ear, “every gasp, every shiver... it’s mine to take, mine to protect. And I’ll keep you safe in this fire forever.”

The night wrapped around them like a dark promise, a sanctuary of need and love so fierce it burned away every fear, every shadow. In that tangled heat, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, endlessly lost in the storm of each other’s touch.

Every time his eyes traced the scars etched across her back—those cruel remnants of a past he vowed to erase with his very hands—his blood thundered like a storm. The man who had dared hurt her, her own father no less, was a ghost to be hunted down and shattered. But tonight, here and now, she was his world, his obsession, untouchable and fiercely alive beneath his fingertips.

As their hands trembled with need, they slowly peeled away the barriers—the clothes that hid them not just from the world but from each other’s truths. Layer by layer, skin met skin, vulnerable and unyielding. Lying on the bed, him on top, they bared more than bodies—they laid bare their souls.

Her gaze locked with his, and he saw the storm in her eyes mirrored in his own—darkening with desire, raw and unrestrained. She could feel the way his control frayed like thin ice beneath a heavy weight; every brush of her skin sent sparks racing through him. Just a whispered word from her, soft and teasing from those pretty lips, and he was undone—a man who had nothing left but to beg for more.

The way she moved—taking him in with grace, the twisted ecstasy painting every line of his face—was like a drug he’d never want to quit. His voice, rough and ragged, pleaded between breaths: “Don’t stop. Please…”

Her muffled moans, sultry and desperate, ignited a fire inside him so fierce that even when he thought he’d let her rest, he was drawn back for a second, a third round. She deserved rest, yes—but the hunger between them was relentless.

The night stretched endlessly—a symphony of primal rhythms and whispered promises. Different positions, different intensities—sometimes slow, tender, sometimes harder, possessive, demanding. Every touch, every claim was a declaration: she was his—raw, whole, utterly claimed.

He drove her to the edge again and again, pushing boundaries until her voice broke through the haze, trembling and breathless, confessing how deeply she craved this connection.

If she’d let him, he would bury himself inside her forever, never letting go, losing himself in her utterly. It was exhausting and exhilarating, a maddening dance of dominance and devotion, obsession and love.

By the time dawn crept in, they were spent—bodies entwined, hearts pounding in a perfect, feral harmony.

The morning sun slipped softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room where they lay entwined—bodies still humming from the night’s fierce, tender communion. Avira’s eyes fluttered open, tracing the familiar contours of Kaizen’s face as he murmured words in the quiet, half-asleep haze. His voice, a low, constant hum ,wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

She smiled softly, heart swelling with satisfaction . Was this forever

.. Could this fierce, relentless love he showed—the way he whispered her name like it was a prayer, the way his fingers gently traced her skin—be the anchor she’d longed for all these years.

“Will you be mine forever?” she wondered quietly, words unspoken but echoing like a fragile plea.

His arms tightened instinctively around her, as if he could feel her thoughts, as if he knew the silent question burning in her soul. His breath tickled her ear, warm and steady. “I’ll love you forever,” he promised without hesitation, “marry you, baby you, fight for you... every day, every moment.”

Avira’s heart fluttered like a caged bird, yearning for that forever he spoke of. Here, in his embrace, she felt safe, cherished—not just for her beauty, but for every scar, every shadow she carried inside.

And maybe, just maybe, this time the story would be different. Maybe forever wasn’t just a dream anymore.

~