Sweet Hatred-Chapter 230: Hypocrite

"Oh wow," Sylas whispered. "They’re really going for it."

But they didn’t stop there.

As the man’s hands slid up her gown and her leg hitched around his hip, Sylas and I both stood there, stunned silent. It was like watching a car crash, you should look away, but your body just doesn’t listen.

And then,

"Oh fuck me," Sylas hissed as the woman braced both hands against a tree, the man shoving her gown up with zero shame.

"Are they, "

"Yup."

"Here? Now?!"

"With no security clearance??"

We both turned around sharply, facing the opposite direction with our drinks pressed to our mouths like that would somehow cleanse the visual.

"I need bleach," I muttered.

"Save some for me," Sylas groaned.

We both crouched slightly behind the ledge, like hiding would erase what we saw.

There was a pause. We took a peek.

Still going.

"Oh my God, he’s really, " I gasped.

"Yep, she’s hanging on for dear life. Like that tree’s her salvation," Sylas said, barely holding back a laugh.

We turned back around again, facing the doors of the ballroom like they were a gateway to heaven.

"Okay," I said, shaking my head and standing up. "We’re going back."

"Agreed." Sylas finished the rest of his drink like a man about to go to war, then offered his arm with mock gentlemanly flair. "Let’s go pretend that never happened."

I looped my arm with his, grinning despite myself.

"Wait until I tell Sarah."

"Oh I’m telling Ash. In graphic detail."

And just like that, the two of us dragged ourselves away from the makeshift porno happening below us. The strange night between us became more solid now, woven with alcohol, secrets, and the haunting image of tree-sex.

God help us all.

The heavy gold doors of the ballroom opened with a hiss of luxury and piano, and the glittering warmth inside swallowed us whole. The music had shifted into something sultry and live now, Mireille, the A-list singer with a voice like moonlight and heartbreak, was already mid-performance, standing on a curved spotlighted platform.

And seated directly before her, in a row of power and precision, was Mr. Stanley, looking terrifying and utterly composed. Next to him, the Vice President, laughing quietly at something Stanley whispered. Ash sat beside him, poised and regal. And next to her,

Kael.

God, he looked like sin incarnate.

Midnight black tux. Mask still on. Hands resting on crossed thighs like a throne had grown from beneath him. His eyes, those eyes, sliced through the glittering haze the second I stepped in. I could feel him see me.

And worse, I could feel him see me with Sylas.

The heat of his stare burned down my spine like a brand. I froze for half a second.

Sylas just smirked beside me, perfectly relaxed, like he hadn’t just witnessed full-blown tree-sex and followed it up with emotional chaos and ten-year-old scotch.

Kael’s gaze dragged over my form, slow and calculated. And then he looked away.

Just like that.

I didn’t know what stung more, being seen like that or being dismissed.

Before I could think about it too hard, Ashlyn was already up, graceful like a blade unsheathed, making her way through the crowd with her dress flowing behind her. She reached us, her golden mask perched just above narrowed eyes.

"There you two are." Her voice was low and sharp with amusement. "Disappearing mid-gala? Tsk. What would the gossip columns say?"

Sylas shrugged. "We were communing with nature."

Ash gave him a look. "If that’s code for something disgusting, don’t finish it."

She looped her arm into mine before I could say anything, tugging me lightly but firmly toward the front.

"Come on," she whispered near my ear, voice taunting. "You’re sitting with royalty now."

"Is that on purpose?" I muttered, looking back at Sylas helplessly. He winked, following.

Traitor.

We reached the front row just as the last note of Mireille’s song rippled into silence, followed by warm applause.

Kael didn’t even turn.

But his fingers tapped once against his thigh.

I lowered myself into the seat beside Ash, Sylas followed and I was painfully aware of the tension bleeding off Kael from two chairs away. I didn’t even dare glance his way. Not yet.

Because I was pretty damn sure I’d find him already looking.

I tried to melt into the plush velvet seat, pretending the air wasn’t suddenly thicker than the overpriced perfume choking the room. I pretended Kael wasn’t, all ice and shadow in a golden mask, jaw clenched like he was resisting the urge to maul someone.

And maybe I was that someone.

"Lovely turnout," the Vice President said with a nod toward the now applauding crowd. His voice was smooth, too smooth, the kind that’s used to cutting through media storms and parliamentary debates. "Stanley, you outdid yourself."

Ash’s father smiled, calm and full of quiet menace. "It’s only the beginning. The real unveiling happens soon."

Ash leaned back like a queen on her throne. "We should let them taste a little before we feed them the feast."

The VP chuckled. "Spoken like a true visionary."

I smiled politely, pretending I wasn’t five seconds from bursting into flames. Kael still hadn’t looked at me again.

Until,

"She has the look of a dangerous weapon too," Mr. Stanley said, gesturing toward me with the delicate lift of a champagne glass. novelbuddy-cσ๓

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

Stanley’s pale eyes flicked over me like a man choosing which part of the meal to devour first. "Sharp spine. Calculated silence. You’d pass for one of mine if I didn’t know better."

I laughed, a little too tightly. "I’m afraid I’m far too unpolished for that honor."

Beside me, Sylas hummed. "You’d be surprised what kind of dirt we shine in this family."

Kael’s fingers stopped tapping.

Ash snorted. "That was poetic, Sylas. Did you read that on a Tumblr post?"

"Would you like me to recite the rest?" he quipped, arm draping lazily behind my chair. He didn’t touch me, but the implication of closeness was enough.

And Kael saw it.

His hand curled into a fist. The VP noticed and tilted his head curiously.

"Young Roman," the VP said smoothly, directing his words toward Kael. "Your name’s been everywhere lately. Rumor is you’re spearheading the neural core expansion next month?"

Kael finally moved, chin tilting with precision as he addressed the man. "I don’t deal in rumors, Mr. Vice President. But yes, the launch is inevitable."

"And she", the VP looked at me now, eyes glinting, "is the face behind your gala? A strange choice for someone known to trust no one."

Ash answered before Kael could. "That’s what makes her perfect. Aria doesn’t care who we are. She only cares about results."

I opened my mouth, but Stanley waved a dismissive hand. "She doesn’t have to explain herself, Ash. Results don’t need defending."

That shut me up fast.

Sylas sipped from his glass with a quiet smirk. "See, Aria? You’re already their property."

Kael finally turned his head.

Finally.

His stare slammed into me like a fist, cutting, cold, possessive. "She isn’t anyone’s property."

Oh.

...

Hypocrite.

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