Her Kiss, His Ruin
The Alaric estate was a furnace of whispers after Kaia's exit—guests scattering, reporters salivating, his so-called fiancée crying in the corner. Damon didn't care.
He was still in the courtyard, holding the flash drive like it weighed more than gold.
It didn't just hold evidence.
It held power.
And Kaia had handed it to him like a loaded weapon, knowing he'd have no choice but to pull the trigger.
He stared into the darkness she left behind, jaw clenched so tight it ached. His knuckles were still marked from earlier punches—the stone wall, the guilt, his own reflection.
You came back like vengeance. But I'll take you like ruin.
She meant to ruin him?
No.
Kaia Seraphine didn't just want him to fall.
She wanted him to bleed.
And yet, when she kissed him… her mouth trembled like it remembered the old Damon. The one who would've burned the world for her smile.
He slid the flash drive into his pocket, heart slamming against his ribs.
"Your turn to burn, Alaric."
Fine.
He'd burn.
But he'd take her with him.
---
The room was cold. Stark. Hidden beneath one of Alaric Industries' lesser-known facilities—off-grid, off-books, and buried beneath a mountain of classified operations.
Damon stood alone under flickering fluorescent lights as the flash drive decrypted.
One file. One video.
He played it.
Static.
Then—
A room. A girl. Kaia. Strapped to a chair.
He staggered.
Her wrists were red. Face gaunt. Eyes glassy. Someone was behind the camera.
"Name?"
Silence.
"Name?"Again.
Her voice—small, defiant: "Kaia Seraphine Alaric."
Then came the questions.
About her father's death. About biochemical patents. About classified research tied to her bloodline.
And finally, the name.
His.
"Who's protecting you?"
Her chin lifted.
"Damon Alaric."
The screen froze on her bruised face, defiant even when broken.
Damon nearly dropped the drive.
She lied for me.Even back then.
And he hadn't even known she was alive.
The betrayal twisted in his gut like a knife. Not hers. *His own.* Because he'd believed the narrative they fed him. That she died in the explosion. That she was unstable. That she was never coming back.
But she did come back.
And now, she was making him look at the truth.
Why show me this now?
Because Kaia wasn't trying to destroy him.
She was trying to wake him up.
---
Across the city, Kaia stood in a stranger's penthouse overlooking the skyline. Her hands were trembling.
She had sent him the file.
She had kissed him.
And she had nearly broken.
"He's cracking," she murmured aloud, pacing.
Nyra—her loyal friend, hacker, and partner in vengeance—sat on the couch, arms crossed. "You sure this is the move? You're not getting soft, are you?"
Kaia stopped walking. "No. I'm sharpening the blade."
"Because you looked pretty damn *melty* after that kiss, Seraphine."
Kaia flinched. "I needed the heat. That man runs colder than hell."
"Cold or not, you still want to burn with him."
Kaia's lips twisted into a dangerous smile. "Exactly."
Nyra exhaled. "Fine. What's next?"
Kaia turned toward the wall, where a red-stringed map of Alaric holdings was pinned—business connections, corrupted board members, hidden labs. All of it linked to Damon's empire.
"I dismantle his legacy," Kaia said.
"And what if he helps you?"
Kaia's eyes burned. "Then I burn down whoever's left… with him at my side."
"But you'd still destroy him?"
She hesitated.
Then: "If I have to."
---
Back at the estate, Damon poured himself a drink with shaking hands.
The ghost of her kiss still haunted his mouth.
She was fire. Fury. Truth.
And tonight, she'd shown him just how far he'd fallen from the man she once knew.
He picked up his phone.
No messages.
No call.
He stared out the window like a madman waiting for lightning to strike.
Then finally—her voice.
Not in person.
A voicemail.
He played it on speaker.
"You never asked me why I disappeared, Damon. Why I had to die.
You just accepted it. You believed what they told you.
I didn't come back to hurt you. But I'm not here to save you either.
I'm here for the truth.
And if that destroys us both… so be it."
Damon Alaric closed his eyes.
He had choices now.
One: bury the truth and lose her forever.
Or two: rise from the grave with her…
…and rewrite the endgame.
---