08: Predator In Armani

ALEXA

Holy shit, there was a gun in my hand. And although my head trembled, I liked the feel of it. It felt familiar...as if I'd spent my whole life using guns.

Killian cocked his head, a questioning look on his face. His intense blue eyes silently dared me to do my worst. They reminded me of the dream I'd had earlier. And although a part of me wanted to believe that it was just a dream, I had a feeling it was more of a memory.

In that dream, I'd shot Killian on his chest and walked away. That had to mean that we'd definitely known each other. But if he was my lover or friend, why would I shoot him and leave him for dead?

"Are you going to stare at me all day?" He asked, arching a perfect brow.

"I need to know why you're really keeping me here. Is this your way of getting revenge?" I asked.

Surprise crossed his features.

"You recalled something," he stated, and I drew closer until I was standing by his side. Still pointing my gun at him, I grabbed the neckline of his shirt and pulled it down. And there it was. A bullet scar that matched the exact same spot where I'd shot him in my dream.

"You're overthinking things, Tesora," he said, and I pointed the gun at his annoyingly handsome face.

"Tell me the truth, Killian!" I snapped. The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, and he smoothly eased out of bed, moving towards me.

"Don't move! I'm going to shoot!" I said, and he took another step closer, his gaze unwavering.

"Do it."

My heart pounded faster. "What?"

He moved even closer as I shuffled backwards, my hands trembling harder.

"I said, Do it," he drawled, and I hiccuped. He moved closer still until my spine hit the wall. I brought the nozzle of the gun to his chest, and he smirked.

"Come on, don't be shy," he teased, and I hiccuped again, the gun slipping from my shaky hands.

He grinned, bending over to pick up the fallen gun. "I'd almost forgotten..."

Then he straightened, lightly flicking me on the nose. "How cute you can be."

I hiccuped again, and he chuckled. "Go to sleep, Tesora. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day even for you."

I gaped at him as he turned away from me and left the room, gently shutting the door behind him. My knees gave out then, and I slid down the wall, bringing a hand to my chest. My heart was pounding so fast, it felt like it was about to explode. I gulped, leaning my head back on the wall.

Sofia was right.

I'd married a psycho. And I wasn't so sure if I would survive it this time. My poor heart was most likely to give out after a few more encounters with that devil.

....

The next morning, I had just stepped out of the bathroom when I heard the knock on the door. Pushing my wet hair away from my face, I walked towards the door and opened it. There stood a green-eyed man clad in a tailored black suit. He had a nose ring and tattoos peeking from his collar.

He smiled.

"Good morning, my name is Roman. You might be seeing me more often around the house. Killian asked me to give this to you," he said, holding out a medium-sized box and an envelope.

Hesitantly, I accepted them from him.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Check the invitation first. There will be a black tie gala tonight. He wants to take you shopping for a dress."

My eyes widened. Killian wants to take my shopping? What sorcery was this?

I opened the envelope and took out the invitation card. It had the kind of expensive gold lettering that made me want to rip it in half.

"Is this some kind of joke?" I asked him, and he shrugged.

"Not unless you think being paraded like a trophy in front of New York's elite is funny."

I shoved the envelope back into his chest.

"I'm not going anywhere unless I see Sofia. You tell him that."

Roman's smirk faded.

"Sofia's fine."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I want to see her."

He sighed. "You'll be allowed out when Killian believes you won't try anything stupid."

That stopped me cold.

"Stupid like what?" I whispered.

"Like running. Or stabbing someone. Or putting a gun to his head again."

I flinched.

When he spoke again, his voice dropped by an octave.

"You're remembering, aren't you?"

"I'm done talking to you. Tell Killian what I said," I hissed and turned away, shutting the door in his face.

I waited until Roman's footsteps had faded before turning to the box in my hands. I eyed it like it might explode.

With slow fingers, I pulled the ribbon apart and lifted the lid. There was a new phone in it.

I blinked.

Seriously?

I'd expected anything but this. Maybe even a note telling me what new psychological game he wanted to play.

But a phone?

Why would Killian, who clearly had no qualms about manipulating me, suddenly hand me something that offered access to the outside world?

What the hell was he thinking?

I sat down on the bed, still wrapped in my bathrobe, the box balanced in my lap as I turned the device over. There was no lock screen, no PIN. Just the dim glow of a home screen and an empty background.

There was only one useful app.

Google.

I stared at the screen.

I could search for anything. So why not start with the devil I married?

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. It felt... risky. Like I was scratching an itch I wasn't supposed to acknowledge.

Still, I typed.

KILLIAN CROSS.

There were instant results.

There he was, smiling. His icy blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he joked with a reporter about algorithms, innovation, and the future of sustainable technology.

He was charming, charismatic and so damn normal.

I frowned.

He laughed in the clip. It was a genuine, warm sound. The same mouth that had told me to "do it" while I had a gun pointed at his chest was now cracking jokes about coffee addiction and late-night coding.

I didn't know whether to gag or cry.

How many people had he fooled with this mask?

This wasn't the man whose presence devoured oxygen and filled every room with a storm.

Who the hell had I married?

And how many sides of him were left to uncover?

...

Killian thought I was being quiet because I was finally "settling in."

Wrong.

I was just bored... and silently plotting to frustrate him.

The car ride was silent. I watched the city blur past the tinted windows while Roman scrolled through his phone beside me. Killian sat across, legs crossed, his expression perfectly unreadable behind his dark sunglasses. The predator in Armani.

When we pulled into the underground lot of an upscale boutique mall, I made no comment. No snark. No threats. I just stepped out of the car like a good little hostage perfectly prepped up.

He liked that.

"Hi," I said sweetly to the sales clerk, "do you guys have anything for hostages? Maybe something with extra room for emotional baggage and Stockholm syndrome?"

The young woman behind the counter laughed awkwardly.

Killian's jaw flexed, and Roman choked on his bubble gum.

I twirled towards the racks like nothing had happened, humming a lullaby that came to my mind. Killian trailed behind me, and I smirked. He had no idea what I was planning to do.

"Pick whatever you like," Killian said smoothly. "We have a gala tonight. I want you looking like something they can't afford."

I smirked. "A hostage in couture. Cute."

Five minutes later, I stood on the platform in front of the boutique's mirror, wearing a fitted black gown that clung to me perfectly. A salesgirl fluttered nervously nearby, helping me adjust the drapes on the sleeves.

Killian sat on the velvet couch, legs crossed, thumbing through his phone like I wasn't mentally derailing right in front of him.

"Do you like it?" the clerk asked hesitantly.

"I mean, sure," I said, loud enough to draw attention.

She blinked twice.

"Ma'am—" she started.

"I'd also love something with pockets," I added brightly. "You know, to hold my self-worth and the fragments of my identity he's trying to crush."

Roman whispered something into his earpiece.

Killian stood.

I grinned.

I strutted off the platform and grabbed a mannequin arm. "This feels symbolic."

"Alexa," Killian warned calmly.

I struck a pose. "Is this how you want me? Silent and pretty and breakable?"

The mannequin arm fell with a thunk.

“Oops,” I whispered, and Killian’s left eye twitched.

“Alexa,” he growled, stepping towards me with a storm brewing in his eyes.