chapter 10 : A Kiss Of Blood And War

Veronika`s POV:

Usually, before kids go to bed, grown-ups tell them fairy tales—stories about a monster who wants to kill the princess and take her away from Prince Charming. But the story always ends the same way: the prince slays the monster and saves the princess.

What a shame.

They never tell the kids that the real monster was the prince—the one who wanted the princess's power. And the so-called beast? He was just an ugly man who had the misfortune of falling in love with her.

That's the reality of our world.

Everyone wants to be the prince, chasing after the stupid princess.

You know what I think? The monster was strong—until love made him weak. And that's why he died.

Love doesn't make people weak. It makes them vulnerable.

But love can also make you the strongest—if you fight for it. Not by dying for it like a fool, the way the monster did.

He should have been merciless. He should have made them fear him more than they already did. Because if people had feared him enough, no one would have dared to take the princess away from him.

You might think I'm just a seventeen-year-old girl with wild opinions.

Maybe I am.

But what I said? Still the truth.

If you want people to kneel, to obey, fear is what makes them do it.

That's the ultimate fact in this world.

They fear Arman Kings because defying him means doom. They don't even know what he's capable of—so they fear what he might do.

And that, right there, is power.

________________________________________

Eve and I are making our move tonight.

It's always fun being part of her plans—reckless, unexpected, and somehow flawless in their own twisted way.

This is her game, her move, so it has to be perfect. It has to hit the right nerves.

But unlike what she expected, I didn't come to ruin her fun.

I came to stand by her side.

Because once upon a time, she did the same for me. And beyond that—this is my duty. My honor.

________________________________________

My target was sitting at the bar, deep in conversation, drink in hand. Dexter Black.

The moment he left his group, he was alone—forty years old, masculine, smart, and, most importantly, alive.

Not for much longer.

I grabbed a drink from the bartender and started chatting, my eyes locked on Dexter.

Pathetic.

Even from a mile away, I could tell his dick was already standing at attention.

Boys. So easy to play with.

The bartender started touching my hand, pressing a kiss to it. Tsk. His body would look so much better in pieces.

Dexter Black—he only loves two things in this world: gold and underage girls.

Disgusting.

I leaned in, pretending to be drunk, and stumbled forward—spilling my drink all over him.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. Whoa, whoa—you're hot."

I let my gaze drop, biting my lip before turning to the bartender.

"What do you think? Threesome?"

I laughed loudly, swaying just enough to sell it.

The bartender didn't look impressed. He forced a polite smile at Dexter and murmured an apology, claiming I was too drunk to know what I was saying.

Dexter, however, took his time looking me up and down before subtly flashing something inside his coat.

A gun.

Predictable.

The bartender turned away and never looked back.

Outside, I clung to Dexter, playing my role perfectly—the naïve, willing girl, eager to be taken home.

Straight to his mansion.

The moment we stepped inside, he started ripping off his clothes.

God, he's disgusting.

It wouldn't take long—five minutes, max—before the pill I slipped into his drink kicked in. Right before he could get his boxers off, out cold.

Thank God.

If I had to see his dick, I might've blacked out myself.

I'm too young for that kind of trauma.

When I finally see one, it better be a good one.

Maybe later.

Or maybe… Lucas Garcia.

Apparently, this is a bad idea—at least, according to Evi.

But no, no, no.

He's a Garcia.

And a fun one, I guess.

I shoved my hormonal problems aside and focused on the actual mission.

Time to work.

I started searching for the mutt's office. It took a while, but I finally found what I was looking for—hidden underground, beneath his closet. A coffer.

Smart ass.

I got up and walked back to Dexter.

And then?

The real fun began.

I smiled.

If Lucas saw me like this right now, he'd probably run.

Tying Dexter to his own bed, I took out my dagger—and without hesitation, carved one of his eyes out.

I needed it to unlock the coffer.

As I moved quietly, I heard it—his ragged breathing shifting into screams as he woke up.

I didn't care.

I took what I needed from the coffer, sent it all to Evi, and then—oh.

Well, well.

It seems Dexter just couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

I returned to his bed, settling into his lap.

And then?

I began my masterpiece.

His screams grew louder, blending beautifully with my laughter. My dagger danced across his skin, carving real art into his flesh.

Not long after, the guards stormed in.

My laughter vanished.

Dexter was either dead or had blacked out. I hoped he was still alive—I wasn't done yet. I was thirsty. Thirsty for blood and only blood.

One of the guards looked at me, eyes wide in horror.

His boss was nothing more than a mutilated, blood-soaked corpse.

Ahh.

I needed more.

I rose to my feet, a dagger in hand, and smiled at them.

There were a lot of them.

Which only meant—more fun.

They tensed immediately.

Before they could even think about pulling their guns, I moved—fast, precise. My dagger found deadly spots with every strike.

One wrong move from me, and I'd be dead.

But I don't make wrong moves.

By the time I was done, all his guards were gone.

I left with one piece of dear Dexter—just a little souvenir.

Then, I burned the entire place down. No evidence. No loose ends.

I met Evi near the mansion. She took the piece and vanished.

I got into the car she left for me and drove back to her apartment. Showered. Changed.

But I wasn't in the mood to stay in.

Not yet.

I ended up in some bar outside the city.

One glass after another.

Then, the memories of today started flooding back.

And before I knew it…

I was smiling.

At school today, I left Evi and Don Garcia alone.

Those two are obsessed with each other—especially him.

But even if Evi treats it like a joke, it's dangerous.

Just the possibility of them falling in love could lead to war.

And he doesn't even realize it yet.

I walked away, but the sound of footsteps following me made me smile.

Right on time.

He got closer, but I turned around before he could speak, flashing him a slow, teasing smile.

"Hello, Luca. How are you, darling? Trying to have fun yet, or are you still just thinking about it?"

That last part hit a nerve.

His expression remained unamused, and without a word, he turned to leave.

Too bad, Luca. Not happening.

I grabbed his wrist and dragged him into an empty classroom, shutting the door behind us.

"I don't react well to people turning their backs on me, Mr. Garcia."

He took a slow look up and down my body before finally speaking.

"You overestimate yourself, Miss Miller. You're not important enough for me to even give you my back."

God, I wanted to laugh.

He actually thought that was an insult.

Instead of answering, I shoved him back—his spine hitting the door with a dull thud.

And then—

He groaned.

Low. Rough.

The sexiest sound I've ever heard.

I blinked.

For a second, he just stared into my eyes.

He was like a siren, and I was the hunter.

But somehow… he was the one seducing me.

Before I could stop myself, my hands trailed down his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt.

I expected him to push me away.

Instead, his hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer.

The air between us grew thick, suffocating—pure tension.

He let out a shaky breath when I slipped my hand under his shirt, my fingertips grazing his hard, heated skin.

That was my cue to pull back.

I snapped myself out of it—barely—and shifted my focus. Pissing him off again.

He was my toy, after all.

I leaned in until my lips were just inches from his. He was beneath me now, my hand resting against the door beside his head.

"That's what I'm saying, Luca. You shouldn't give me your back…"

I dragged my fingers up his torso, smirking when I felt his body react.

"But maybe something else. Something hard… and soft at the same time."

I could feel the heat rolling off him.

Then, I kissed him.

He kissed me back instantly—fast, desperate, insane.

I took his lower lip between my teeth, sucking on it just to hear that groan again.

And when he least expected it—

I bit down.

Hard.

The taste of his blood spread over my tongue.

I pulled away, licking it from my lips as I pushed him back.

Before I walked out, I turned and met his gaze.

"You're the one overestimating yourself, Luca."

His eyes darkened, fixated on my lips.

I laughed.

Then, I shut the door behind me.

________________________________________

Not too long after, we were back in class.

I sat next to my favorite toy and decided to keep playing.

My hand trailed up his thigh, slow and deliberate.

I licked my lower lip, my gaze dropping to his—bruised, bitten, still red from me.

He was a mess.

If he could kill me right now, he would.

Trust me.

I ended up laughing out loud—too loud.

And, of course, got kicked out of class.

I was still chuckling at the memory when something hit me.

Soon… he'll hate me.

Because eventually, he'll find out who I really am.

And as I've always said—

Garcias and us?

We should never even be mentioned in the same sentence.

Even as a joke.

Never.