Page 37 of Kai
Dammit all to hell! He wanted her at his side.
Then why hadn't he offered her marriage? The sneaky voice of his conscience slid insidiously inside his head.
He had an explanation for that, didn't he? He wanted them to get used to the idea of sharing the same space before taking the plunge.
Taking the plunge? The bloody voice would not shut up! You make it sound like something to fear.
No! Or was it? He wondered. Why was he so afraid of commitment? Was it because of his family? They had drummed it into his head for so many years that it was lodged in deep. Wasn't that the reason he had left her without a backward look ten years ago?
The fact that they would never have approved of her? Pushing aside the contract he had been perusing, he stared moodily across the room, a frown pleating his brow. What had started out for him so long ago, as a challenge to get her in bed, had taken a turn. The laugh was on him. He had been so damned cocky, so sure of himself. The whispers about her from the boys who had tried to get within an inch of her and had failed. That had fueled his determination to succeed where they had fallen short.
Her air of aloofness, the haughtiness on her spectacular face had made him more determined to storm that barricade. Little did he know that in doing so, he was going to be introduced to a lifetime of love that had only gotten stronger. Shoving to his feet, he went to get a cup of coffee. He had marched out of her place, allowing anger to push him along. And had fed that anger all the way to his apartment, which had suddenly become like a damn prison.
Taking the cup with him, he leaned on the edge of the desk and let his eyes scan the room. He had inherited the company from his father and taken up the reins. He had stepped into some very big shoes, shoved into it more likely. The mantle had been thrown on his shoulders when he was too young to realize what the hell was going on. He had been forced to prove himself. And given a timeline to do so.
There had been times when he was so terrified of failing that he had curled up in one corner of the room and closed his eyes. Times when he wished his father were alive so that his world would not be so complicated. That he would be able to do as he pleased. Be with whom he pleased.
Circling the desk, he sat back down, nursing his cup of coffee.
He leaned back in his chair with a weary sigh, the papers before him blurring into an indistinct haze. The sense of control he usually wielded with ease now felt like a distant memory. For the first time, he acknowledged the quiet terror lurking in the corners of his mind -- a fear not just of her rejection, but of exposing his own vulnerabilities. What if she saw his flaws too clearly and decided she couldn't bear them?
The thought struck like a lash, and he clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. He had always prided himself on his strength, his unshakable resolve. But here he was, teetering on the edge of something he didn't entirely understand, much less know how to navigate.
And God help him, he didn't even know if he was more afraid of losing her or of keeping her and failing in the process.
Meanwhile, Maxie sat in her office, the faint strains of soft music playing in the background. The strawberries and cream sat half-finished on the desk as her thoughts wandered to him. She had felt his absence all day like a shadow hovering over her, darker and colder than she expected. Despite her determination to find clarity, she found herself replaying their moments together, dissecting his words and actions, searching for some sign of what he truly wanted.
But the question that loomed largest wasn't about him -- it was about her. What did she truly want? Could she let go of the past, the pain, and trust him again? More importantly, could she trust herself to embrace what they might become without fear of inevitable collapse?
The weight of it pressed down on her, yet there was a flicker of hope, faint but persistent. Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way forward. But it would require both of them to face the truths they had long avoided. He still hadn't called, and she suspected he was waiting on her to make the first move.
Sighing dejectedly, she pressed a hand over her chest and whispered his name. It was so damn complicated! And worse, she was going to disappoint a very sweet and gentle man, one she should never have gone out with in the first place.
Chapter 12
The Elite Club was one of the most exclusive and prestigious in the world, boasting members as diverse as royal families to self-made businesspeople. It had branches in several countries with its origin a stately castle-like building in the outskirts of the Virginian hills.
Kai had always thought it looked more like a bride adorned for her wedding, with its dazzling white painted bricks, the glossy gardens that always maintained their lush verdancy and the wooded areas surrounding the sprawling property.
He was a member through his father and his grandfather before him. Centuries ago, when the club had opened its doors, it had been exclusively run and operated by men of a certain class and color.
Now men of every class and culture mingled, brushing elbows, talking politics and business. The only requirement was the possession of a hefty bank account and the ability to pay the exorbitant fee charged for the privilege of becoming a member. He hated the pomp and grandeur, the affectations of certain members of society. He caught a glimpse of a minor royalty, the man's raucous laughter already grating on his nerves.
Kai strode deliberately past the gilded double doors leading into the main hall, his sharp eyes scanning the clusters of men clad in tailored suits and designer watches. The atmosphere was thick with whispers of mergers, acquisitions, and strategies to outmaneuver rivals. Despite his distaste for the pretensions of the place, he had to admit that The Elite Club served as a fertile ground for connections—powerful ones that could alter the trajectory of fortunes and empires.
His attention was momentarily drawn to the grand chandelier overhead, a cascading crystal masterpiece that refracted light in dazzling fragments across the room. It reminded him of the labyrinthine paths of ambition that crisscrossed the lives of the men gathered below, twisting and shimmering, but often leading nowhere.
Kai's mood darkened further as he spotted Lars Davidson—a mogul notorious for his ruthless tactics—holding court near the bar. Lars had an uncanny knack for making friends while setting traps for his enemies. Kai knew better than to underestimate him. They'd crossed paths before, and the scars of that encounter remained etched in Kai's memory.
Skipping the pleasantries, he made his way to a quieter corner of the room, where the smell of leather-bound books and aged brandy lingered. He spotted Elijah, his oldest friend and oneof the few people he trusted implicitly, nursing a glass of deep amber liquid. Elijah's presence was a welcome reprieve—a reminder that amidst all the chaos, loyalty and honesty still existed in some corners of his world.
"Late as always," Elijah quipped, setting his drink down with a knowing smirk. "You missed the fireworks. Davidson's been stirring the pot again."
Kai settled into the chair opposite him, his jaw tightening at the mention of Lars. "Let me guess. He's angling for control of the new tech startup?"
Elijah nodded, his expression grave. "And he's not the only one. The entire room has been buzzing about it tonight."
Kai leaned forward, his mind already racing through possibilities. The Elite Club might be insufferable, but it was also the nexus where decisions were made that would ripple far beyond its walls. If he was going to protect his interests, he'd have to play the game—but on his own terms.
