DaoistIQ2cDu

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.  

When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation. 

“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac. 

“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”  

Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier. 

But vengeance turns slippery when every insult she hisses ignites his obsession, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more."  

The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?

Sweet Hatred

Kael didn't say anything as he carried me into his apartment.

I remembered thinking once that his place was too cold, too sharp with clean lines and empty silence. Like it mirrored the man himself: distant, unfeeling, impenetrable.

Not warm, not quite. But familiar.

Like coming in from a storm and finally being allowed to stop pretending you're not freezing.

He laid me down gently on his bed, like he was afraid I'd break into pieces. I stared up at the ceiling, breathing in the subtle scent of him in the sheets—clean, dark, something expensive I could never name but always noticed.

"Will you take a shower?" he asked quietly. "While I get you something to eat."

Broken Rules