Chapter 119: Snakes in a Cage

Kian stood dead still in the middle of the room. He stared at her face, searching for a sign of a bluff, a flicker of fear.

But there was none. Alice was just as rotten, just as ruined, and just as desperate as he was. They were two poison snakes trapped in the same small cage.

He couldn’t kill her. Not yet. Not until he found where she kept her backups. Not until he erased every single piece of paper she had on him.

Kian let out a long, slow breath. The violent rage in his chest didn’t vanish; it simply sank beneath the surface, turning into cold, calculating venom.

He forced a small, terrible smile onto his face.

Instead of reaching for her throat, Kian stepped forward and slowly lowered his hand toward her face.

Alice tensed slightly, but she didn’t flinch as his long, cool fingers lightly touched her jawline.

He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles, his thumb moving up to rest against her lower lip, pressing down gently until her lip parted.

In his mind, he was watching her choke on her own blood. In reality, his touch was feather-light.

"You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?" Kian whispered, his voice smooth, almost tender, though his eyes remained completely dead.

Alice looked up at him, her eyes narrowing as she felt the shift in his tone. "I do what needs to be done. You should have done this months ago, Kian. If you had just killed her back then, we would already have things wrapped up."

"You’re right," Kian said softly, his thumb tracing the corner of her mouth before he pulled his hand back. "I let my feelings cloud my judgment. It won’t happen again."

Alice relaxed slightly, leaning back into her chair with a satisfied smirk. "Good. Then we’re back on the same page. We can now focus on enjoying what belongs to us. And get rid of anything leading back to us."

"Leave it to me," Kian lied effortlessly. "I’ll handle everything."

"Don’t disappoint me again, Kian," she said, turning her head back toward her vanity mirror.

Kian turned around and walked out of her room, closing the broken door behind him. The second he stepped into the hallway, his face collapsed back into a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred.

He didn’t just want her dead anymore. He was going to strip her of everything she owned, tear her life apart piece by piece, and then watch her bleed out in the dirt. But until then, he had to play the dutiful partner.

..

In a private recovery wing on the fourth floor of St. Jude’s, the ambient hum of medical monitors filled the room.

Niko lay back against three thick pillows, his right shoulder tightly bandaged, an IV line hooked into the back of his hand. He looked pale, but his breathing was steady.

Aaron sat in a chair by the window, his laptop open on his lap, a dark suit jacket draped over the back of his seat. His phone vibrated against the table. He picked it up, seeing a video call request from a secure line in St. Petersburg.

He pressed accept.

The screen flickered to life, showing a bright, sunlit room in the estate. A teenage boy with messy hair and wide, anxious eyes appeared on the screen.

"Mishka!" Finn’s voice came through the speaker, loud and frantic. "Finally! Why weren’t you picking up your phone?! We saw the news here! They’re saying her car went off a bridge! Is Isabella okay?! Is she alive?!"

Aaron kept his face completely neutral. "Finn. Calm down."

"How can I calm down?!" Finn shouted, leaning closer to the camera. Freya’s face briefly appeared behind his shoulder, her brow furrowed with worry before she stepped back to let her brother talk. "Is she hurt? The news said she was in intensive care! Let me talk to her! Put her on the phone!"

"She is resting, Finn," Aaron said softly, keeping his voice steady. "She was hurt, but the doctors have stabilized her. She cannot speak on the phone right now."

Finn searched Aaron’s face through the screen, his teenage enthusiasm suddenly dimming as he noticed the dark shadows under Aaron’s eyes. "Mishka... what happened? Is... is the baby okay?"

Aaron went completely quiet. He looked down at the dark screen of his laptop, saying nothing.

The silence on the line was answer enough. Finn’s face fell, his shoulders sagging.

"Oh..." he whispered, looking away from the camera. "Oh, no... Isabella..."

"She needs time, Finn," Aaron said gently. "Tell Pyotr to keep the estate locked down. I will bring her home as soon as she is fit to travel."

"Okay," Finn said quietly, his voice small. "Tell her... tell her we’re waiting for her. Tell her I love her."

"I will," Aaron said, and disconnected the call.

Niko watched Aaron from his hospital bed, waiting until the phone was placed back on the table.

"How is the boy?" Niko asked softly.

"Worried," Aaron replied, leaning his head back against the wall. "He wants to come here."

"It’s safer for them in the estate," Niko said. He paused, shuffling slightly against his pillows. "And the driver? The one who rammed the car?"

"Disappeared," Aaron said, his voice dropping into something cold and dark. "He jumped out of the truck and ran away. My men are checking every CCTV feed within fifty miles. Every port, every train station, every fake passport maker in the city is being watched. He won’t leave this state alive."

Niko nodded slowly, then let out a heavy sigh. "I heard about the child, boss. I am sorry."

Aaron didn’t answer. He just stared out the window at the grey city skyline.

"If I may speak freely..." Niko began carefully, choosing his words with caution. "As awful as this is... for Isabella’s sake... Kian has no leverage left now. Without a child, he has no ground to stand on in court. She can finally break free from him."