Chapter 13 – Violet
The day is warm. Golden, almost. The way the afternoon light filters through the trees feels like something out of a forgotten dream—peaceful and strange.
I’m skipping. Hand in hand with Kaz. My fingers tangled in his. Never thought I’d say that.
Two weeks. That’s how long it’s been since someone tried to steal me out of his house like I was something to be auctioned off. Since Kaz snapped a man’s neck like it was nothing and told me—without saying it outright—that I was his everything.
No more break-ins. No more screaming at night. The house is like a fortress now. Fortified gates. Infrared lines. Armed guards on every floor.
But none of that is why I feel safe. It’s him.
Kaz. He’s always beside me. Always watching.
Always touching. He hasn’t let me out of his sight since the attack, like his shadow is permanently stitched to mine.
And I should hate it. I should feel trapped.
I should be screaming again about freedom and escape and normal life.
But…I don’t.
“I think I’m going to start charging you,” I say, glancing at him sideways as I skip a little harder to throw him off balance.
Kaz raises a brow, amused. “For what?”
“For therapy. Protection. Entertainment. Emotional damage. Take your pick.”
He chuckles, low and velvety. “You skipped past murder and imprisonment. How generous.”
“I’m in a forgiving mood.”
I squeeze his hand. It feels natural now, like I’ve been holding it all my life.
Maxim and Arina are both gone. Undercover missions, Kaz said, and I believe him—though there’s a part of me that misses them both. Arina especially. With them gone, it’s just him and me in this big, dangerous mansion with its endless rooms and cameras and secrets. I see Milo, too, but not always.
And I thought he’d shut down. I thought he’d grow cold and disappear inside himself after we had sex the first time. But he didn’t. He stayed.
He watched movies with me. Played chess. Watched me cook badly. Held me in bed at night like I’d vanish if he let go. Told me things I didn’t expect someone like him to know how to say.
He’s still a monster. Still unpredictable. Still a war wrapped in silk. But somehow, he’s mine. And somehow, I want to be his.
“Tell me something,” I say as we turn a corner in the garden. “If they hadn’t come for me…if there hadn’t been a bounty…would you still be keeping me here?”
Kaz stops walking. His jaw tightens like I’ve caught him off guard. But his hand doesn’t let go of mine.
“Yes,” he says simply.
I stare at him. “Because I’m yours?”
He nods, not even pretending otherwise. I should hate him for it. But I don’t. I’m terrified…because a small part of me is starting to feel the same way. And I don’t know what that makes me anymore.
Kaz suddenly slows to a stop.
“Let’s sit,” he says, gesturing toward the old sycamore tree near the west garden. The shade beneath it stretches long and cool across the grass, dappled with sunlight. It feels like a secret place—untouched by the weight of everything between us.
We sit down together. Close, but not touching.
A soft breeze moves through my hair, and I glance at him. He’s leaning back against the tree, one leg bent, his expression unreadable—just like always. But something about the curve of his mouth makes me feel like he’s finally relaxed. Just a little.
I lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. His stubble is rough against my lips, and he turns his head slightly like he didn’t expect it.
“Tell me something,” I whisper. “Something I don’t know about you.”
His gaze flicks toward mine, amused. “I hate olives.”
I burst out laughing. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What, my olive preferences aren’t intimate enough for you?” he teases, but I can tell he knows exactly what I’m asking.
I tuck my legs under me and tilt my head. “Something real. Something about…your family.”
And just like that, his entire body stills.
He stares ahead at nothing, jaw tight, lashes lowered. A silence stretches between us, long and brittle.
I wait.
But the longer it drags on, the more I feel my heart sinking.
He’s not going to tell me.
He’ll shut me out again. Lock the gate to that private place behind his eyes and pretend I never asked.
I exhale slowly, trying not to show how much that stings. “Never mind,” I mutter, looking down at my hands. “You don’t have to—”
“My mother died when I was still in diapers,” he says. “I don’t remember her. Just the stories. And even those are fading.”
I stay quiet, afraid to break the fragile spell that has him opening up like this.
“It was just me and my father after that,” he continues.
“He wasn’t perfect. He was brutal when he had to be.
But he loved me. And he believed in me more than anyone ever has.
” Kaz lets out a shaky breath. “He used to say I’d be the one to take the Southern wing. Said I had the mind for it. The fire.”
I glance at him. His jaw is tense, but not in anger this time. There’s grief tucked into the line of his mouth.
“He raised me to take over. Not just survive—but lead. Be feared. Respected. Untouchable.” He swallows. “And then one day, he was gone. Just like that. Murdered in cold blood.”
I tighten my grip on his hand. “Kaz….”
“I was seventeen.” He shakes his head, like he still can’t believe it. “They never caught the one who gave the order. Just the guy who pulled the trigger. He died before I could even ask him why.”
He finally turns to face me again.
“After that…everything changed. I was handed over to Valentine. Adrian and Lukin’s father. He raised me like I was his own, but I knew I wasn’t. I was an outsider. A reminder of someone else’s legacy.”
His voice goes tight.
“But I stayed. Learned. Became what my father would’ve wanted. Maybe worse. I built my own empire—not because I wanted power, but because I never wanted to feel that helpless again.”
I can feel the weight of those words settle deep inside me. All the things he’s never said aloud, spilling out in the hush of the garden.
“And now?” I ask gently. “Do you still feel helpless?”
Kaz doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at me like I’m a question he doesn’t know how to solve.
“No,” he says finally. “Not until I met you.”
My heart skips.
“You make me feel…like all of this could break,” he says, his thumb brushing against my palm. “Like I could.”
I don’t know what to say to that. So I lean forward and rest my head on his shoulder.
“My mother died of cancer when I was five,” I say softly.
Kaz’s eyes snap to mine, and I see it there—quiet understanding.
“My dad…couldn’t handle it, I guess.” I huff out a humorless laugh. “He left not long after. Just disappeared. No note. No goodbye. I remember waking up, and he was just…gone.”
Kaz doesn’t speak, but I feel the slight squeeze of his hand against mine.
“My grandma—my mom’s mom—took me in. She was sweet, but strict. And kind of old-school. She raised me with teacups and manners.” I smile faintly. “She did her best. But she passed away when I was seventeen, right before I started college. So, after that…it was just me.”
Kaz’s brows furrow, his jaw tight. I wonder if he’s imagining teenage me, all wide-eyed and carrying grief in my suitcase, stepping into the world alone.
“I met Jennie, Zoe, and Noelle in college. My girls,” I say, and something warmer flutters through me. “We were chaos. But they became my family. The kind you choose. We helped each other survive heartbreak and late-night breakdowns and everything in between.”
I glance up at him again. “I’ve been chasing happiness ever since. Building it myself in little pieces. Writing. Laughing. Holding on to people who feel like home.”
Kaz looks at me for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then he leans in and kisses my temple so gently it makes my throat tighten.
“You did all of that alone?” he murmurs.
“I didn’t really have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Violet. And you chose to live.”
I close my eyes for a second and breathe him in. His voice. His warmth. This strange pocket of peace under the tree. Kaz brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his gaze steady on mine.
“You’ll never be alone again,” he says quietly. “You have me now.”
It hits me square in the chest—the weight of his words, the promise buried in them. I laugh, not because it’s funny, but because if I don’t, I might cry.
“God, you’re dramatic,” I whisper, smiling even as something in my chest squeezes painfully.
“I’m serious,” he murmurs, cupping my cheek with his hand. “Even if the world turns against you, you’ll still have me.”
Before I can answer, a voice calls out in the distance.
“Milo,” Kaz mutters with a sigh.
The man appears a moment later, his stance respectful but urgent. “Apologies, Boss. It’s important. You’re needed on the line now.”
Kaz’s jaw tightens. His eyes flick back to me, hesitant.
I give him a small smile and nod. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
He lingers for a beat longer, like he’s weighing something, then presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be quick.”
Then he turns and walks away with Milo, leaving me under the tree with a breeze in my hair and the ghost of his kiss still warm on my skin.
And maybe, for the first time in a long time, I start to believe I’m not as alone as I thought.
The moment Kaz disappears around the corner with Milo, I rise from the grass and brush my dress off quickly, heart thudding in my chest.
This is the first time in days he isn’t within arm’s reach of me. I don’t know how long I have before he’s back—but I know I need to make it count.
I hurry through the winding halls of the estate, making sure no one sees me.
Once inside my bedroom, I shut the door quietly and lock it.
The curtains are already drawn. I reach under the bed for the burner phone I hid there.
Still no messages from Noelle. Frustrated, my heart pounding, I hit “Video Call” on Noelle’s name.
She picks up in two rings.