Chapter 18 The Cage and the Key

Aria knew she was being watched.

Even after the meeting ended, after the men and women of the Laurent empire disappeared into the shadows, the weight of unseen eyes followed her.

She wasn't paranoid.

She was being tested.

Killian walked beside her as they left the meeting hall, his steps unhurried, confident—as if he had expected everything to unfold exactly as it did.

Because he had.

Every step of this had been calculated.

He had placed her in that room like a chess piece, knowing exactly how she would react.

And now, she was still standing.

But at what cost?

As they turned down a quiet corridor, the heavy silence pressed against her chest.

Aria finally spoke. "Why did you bring me here?"

Killian didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he opened a heavy wooden door and stepped inside without hesitation.

She followed—only to halt in surprise.

The room was nothing like she expected.

A study.

Dark mahogany shelves lined the walls, filled with books that looked untouched. A fireplace crackled in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the deep red rug.

It was nothing like the cold, calculated world outside these walls.

This room felt… personal.

Her eyes flickered to the large oak desk near the window. Papers, maps, and a glass of whiskey sat atop it, evidence of late nights spent working.

Her stomach twisted.

This was his space.

A place she wasn't meant to be in.

Killian shut the door behind them, locking them inside.

The soft click sent a chill down her spine.

Then—he turned to face her.

A Dangerous Truth

"You're angry," he observed, studying her with an infuriating sense of calm.

Aria clenched her fists. "You used me as a pawn in there."

Killian sighed, removing his suit jacket and draping it over the back of a leather chair. "No, I positioned you as a queen."

Her jaw tightened. "Don't flatter me."

His lips twitched. "Would you rather I had let them tear you apart?"

Aria faltered.

Because that was the truth, wasn't it?

The men at that table had been looking for an excuse to eliminate her.

But Killian hadn't given them one.

"Why?" she demanded. "Why are you protecting me?"

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

"You still don't see it, do you?" His voice was quiet, but there was an edge beneath it.

Aria frowned. "See what?"

He stepped forward, closing the space between them.

Instinct told her to move back, but she forced herself to stand her ground.

Killian reached out—his fingers ghosting over a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear with a touch so gentle it sent alarm bells ringing in her mind.

"You're mine, Aria."

The words sent a shiver through her.

Not because of fear.

Because a part of her… believed him.

The Trap Tightens

She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to step back. "You don't own me, Killian."

A shadow passed through his gaze.

"Don't I?"

Her breath caught in her throat.

Because the way he said it—so sure, so unwavering—made her stomach twist in ways she wasn't ready to confront.

She shook her head. "I'm not one of your people."

He studied her for a long moment, then slowly walked toward his desk, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"You're right," he finally said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "You're not."

Aria felt a brief flicker of relief—until he looked back at her with something dark in his gaze.

"But you're not theirs anymore either."

Her stomach dropped.

"What are you talking about?"

Killian took a sip of his drink before answering.

"I'm saying your time as a detective is over."

Silence.

The words hit her like a punch to the gut.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "You don't have that kind of power."

Killian arched a brow. "You really think so?"

Dread pooled in her stomach.

"I covered your tracks for as long as I could," he continued, setting his glass down. "But the moment you stepped into my world, your people started questioning your loyalty."

Aria felt her pulse spike.

"No," she said again, but this time there was uncertainty in her voice.

Killian walked toward her, slow, deliberate.

"The precinct thinks you've gone rogue."

Her breath caught.

"They wouldn't—"

"They already have."

Killian pulled something from his pocket and tossed it onto the desk.

A phone.

She hesitated, then reached for it, dread curling in her chest as she saw the screen.

A news article.

Detective Aria Lawson: Missing or Turned?

Her vision blurred.

She clicked on the article, scrolling through the damning words.

'Detective Lawson has been absent for days, last seen investigating the criminal underworld. Sources claim she may have switched sides, abandoning her badge…'

Her heart plummeted.

She swayed slightly, gripping the edge of the desk to steady herself.

This wasn't real.

This wasn't happening.

Killian watched her closely. "Now do you understand?"

She swallowed, forcing herself to look up at him. "You did this."

His expression didn't change. "I simply gave them what they were already looking for."

Rage burned in her chest.

"You wanted this." Her voice trembled with fury. "You wanted me cut off from my world so I'd have no choice but to stay in yours."

Killian tilted his head. "And yet, you haven't left."

Her pulse roared in her ears.

She couldn't leave.

Because where would she go?

Her badge was gone.

Her career? Destroyed.

And the only person keeping her alive in this world was him.

He had planned this.

He had played her.

And worst of all…

He had won.