CHAPTER TWENTY SIX (KILLIAN'S POV)

It had been over a week.

A week of silence.

A week of no calls, no sharp-witted remarks, no infuriatingly addictive presence.

Killian had told himself he didn’t care. That Elara’s absence was a relief, that he could finally focus on what mattered—taking down Ivy and securing what was rightfully his.

But that was a lie.

Because against his will, she was in his head.

Every damn day.

He hated it.

Hated the way his mind wandered to her when he should be strategizing. Hated the way his fingers had hovered over her contact on his phone more times than he cared to admit. Hated the frustration building in his chest when he realized that she wasn’t reaching out either.

Elara was avoiding him.

The fact dawn on him and made an uncomfortable feeling settle In his gut with each passing day. He didn’t know why—or maybe he did but refused to acknowledge it.

Another day passed and his irritation was at it's peak, another feeling was beginning to surface that he didn't like.

He needed to see her.

He wasn’t going to ask why she had disappeared—no, that would give too much away. Instead, he would come up with some flimsy excuse, something about strategizing against Ivy, and pretend that was the only reason he was standing at her doorstep.

It wasn’t.

But he sure as hell wasn’t ready to admit that to himself.

****

Elara’s mansion was nothing like he had expected.

The last time he had been here, he hadn’t taken the time to really look—his mind had been too occupied with handling Ivy’s online attack against her. But now, standing in front of it, he let himself take in the details.

It was a stunning mansion which was a mixture of modern and neoclassical architecture. There were towering columns at the entrance that made the structure almost look like a castle. Grand floor to ceiling windows which reflected the late afternoon sun, the stones had intricate designs that made the building look timeless.

The building was stark white, a sharp contrast to the black iron gates that he had come through.

It was beautiful.

Just like its owner.

Killian clenched his jaw at the thought then rang the doorbell, shoving his hands into his pockets to appear nonchalant.

A few minutes passed before the door swung open.

And the moment he saw her, he knew.

Something was wrong.

Elara stood in front of him with an unreadable expression. It wasn't the usual defiant one that she used to have, there was something more. Her eyes were guarded and colder than he had ever seen.

Something had changed.

And for the first time in a long time, a strange feeling settled in his chest.

Unease.

Because whatever had changed, It had everything to do with him.

The moment Elara met his gaze, he felt it. It wasn't just distance, it was something deeper and colder.

Killian had spent years perfecting the art of reading people, of uncovering their weaknesses before they even knew they had them. And right now, looking at Elara Beckett, he knew that she was done with him.

It should have been exactly what he wanted.

Wasn’t this what he had told her? What he had forced himself to believe? That there was nothing between them except business and revenge? That whatever had happened between them before was nothing more than an illusion?

So why did it feel like he had just walked into a battlefield he hadn’t prepared for? One that he didn't want to even exist.

Why did his heart ache slightly?

“Elara,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “We need to talk.”

She tilted her head slowly, everything looked too stiff, too calculated. Her lips tilted upward in something that looked like amusemeyvut there wa no warmth in it.

“Talk?” she repeated, leaning against the doorway. “I thought we had already said everything that needed to be said, Mr. Hayes.”

He exhaled through his nose as he felt irritation flicker beneath his control. Mr Hayes. The way she said it— professional and detached. It made his stomach tightened.

“Elara,” he started again, his voice lower this time, more serious. “Drop the act.”

Her smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, but I’m not acting, Killian. I’m simply doing what you wanted. Keeping things professional.”

She said it so smoothly, so effortlessly, that if he hadn’t known better, he might have believed her.

But he did know better.

Elara was angry.

No—this wasn’t just anger.

And it set every instinct inside him on edge.

He took a step forward, close enough that he could see the flicker of something behind her eyes. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said bluntly. “Why?”

She arched a brow. “And why do you care?”

Killian’s patience was wearing thing at this point, his frustration bubbled beneath his skin like a slow-burning fire. He wasn’t used to this—this feeling of losing control. And it was because of her.

“I don’t,” he said, forcing hair tone to remain neutral. “But if you think you can just disappear when we have an enemy to deal with, you’re wrong.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I didn’t check in?”

He said nothing.

Because, yes.

Yes, it was bothering him, more than it should have.

Elara studied him for a moment, as if thinking about something, before finally sighing. “Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “Let’s not waste time, then. We have work to do, don’t we?”

She turned on her heel, heading deeper into the house without another glance.

"Are you just going to stand there, Hayes?" she called out behind her, voice calm and uninterested. "Or do you not have a reason for being at my door?”

Killian who had come here expecting to be the one in control found himself following her, for the first time in a long time, unsure of who was leading who.

And that was the most dangerous part of all.