Killian’s Pov
Heading to the office that morning, I felt… off. It wasn’t guilt, no. I don’t do guilt. But I’m not a monster either. I have a conscience, even if it only shows up once in a while. What happened last night with Lilith–maybe it could’ve gone differently. But then again, she should have spoken up. She should’ve said something. So no, it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t going to carry the blame for her silence.
I sat back, stared out the tinted window as the city rushed past, and shoved the thoughts aside. I had a business to run. Feelings could wait–or die.
When the car pulled up at the office, the security opened the door, and I stepped out like nothing was wrong. People greeted me as usual, some with fear, some with fake smiles. I don’t bother learning their faces. I only care about names and results. The only one whose face I recognize is my personal assistant, because she’s too efficient to ignore.
Nobody in that office can dare cross me. They know the rules. If you go behind my back, you won’t make it to the next payroll.
I walked into my office, the scent of leather and control calming me more than anything else could. I reviewed documents, checked files, signed off deals. My assistant had already done most of the work, but I don’t trust anyone. I double–checked everything myself. Always.
Later in the afternoon, I had a meeting with a few department heads. Just enough time to remind them who’s in charge, and how things were going to run from now on. When the meeting ended, I headed back to my office, ready to dive back into my work.
That’s when Nolan called.
He talked about the arrangements, the meeting with that underground fixer. Alessio Rossi. The name alone told me all I needed to know. Dangerous, quiet, efficient. My kind of guy. Nolan said they’d meet tomorrow to finalize everything. I gave the go–ahead. The job needed to be done.
After the call ended, I stared at my phone longer than I should have. I should’ve gone back to my laptop, but instead, my thoughts went to Lilith.
She was trying to protect her friend… and destroyed our marriage in the process. Was that courage or stupidity? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to care.
But then I picked up the phone and called her.
The moment she answered, her voice was dry, cold. “I think you called the wrong number.”
I almost laughed. “I don’t have time for this. We’re going to dinner. Be ready by 7.”
She was quiet. Then she asked, “Why?”
“Just get dressed. The black card is on my desk. You know the password. Buy yourself something that fits the occasion.”
I ended the call before she could argue. And then I stared at the screen, asking myself why I even did that.
Dinner? With her?
I don’t do dinners. Not like this.
I should’ve let her rot in silence for what she caused, but maybe–just maybe–I’m not as heartless as I pretend to be.
I buried myself in work after that. Checked emails, cleaned out reports, made a few silent calls. The usual. Before I knew it, it was already 4 p.m. I’d stayed later than normal. I usually leave around 3, even 2 if the mood strikes. But today… I stalled.
Because dinner with her made me hesitate.
I don’t get nervous. Not in boardrooms, not in shootouts. But thinking of sitting across from Lilith, watching her eyes–those strange, beautiful eyes–I felt something shift.
I shook it off.
By the time I got home, I didn’t bother checking on her. I went straight to my room, peeled off my clothes, and headed for the shower. Hot water washed off the weight of the day.
Before I stepped in, I opened the closet to pull out a suit. But then I noticed something laid out on the bed.
She’d picked an outfit for me.
My brow twitched.
Why would she do that?
I stared at it for a second, then shook my head. I’m not wearing what she picked. I chose something else, something darker, something that still reminded her that I’m not soft.
I don’t know why I care. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m just… human.
I stepped out of the room, adjusting the cuffs of my shirt, feeling like I had everything under control–until I turned and knocked on her door.
It took a while before she opened. And damn… when she did…
My breath hitched.
Lilith stood there, not just dressed up–she was glowing. Beautiful wasn’t even the word. She looked like a goddess sent to punish my sins. My eyes scanned her from head to toe without permission. Her hair, her dress, the confidence in her eyes. She was breathtaking.
What the hell was I doing admiring her?
I snapped out of it immediately.
“What took you so long to open the door?” I asked, my voice low, cold, like usual.
She folded her arms. “I don’t have time for this. Are we going or should I go change the dress?”
“I don’t enjoy this either.”
“Then why are we going?”
I clenched my jaw. “Let’s just go. Stop arguing.”
We walked down the stairs without another word. I didn’t look back to see if she was following. I didn’t have to. I could feel her presence behind me like a storm brewing.
Inside the car, I told the driver where to head. A restaurant I had booked hours ago. A five–star place. Private and Quiet.
When we got there, we stepped out, and one of the staff greeted us immediately. I nodded briefly and led the way inside.
We got to our table. She sat. I sat. And then—
“Mr. Killian,” she said, smirking. “Didn’t know you could be romantic like this.”
I didn’t say anything.
The waitress came. I ordered steak. She ordered seafood.
Then silence.
Moments later, our food arrived.
“Eat,” I said, not looking at her.
She stared at her plate, took a breath like she needed to swallow her pride first, and mumbled, “Okay… so much for a dinner date.”
I ignored that too.
We ate in silence. She didn’t finish her food.
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