↳ 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑 ー 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘

𝐋𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈 ー 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

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Kaden's POV

I spent every waking moment longing for the day I'd be rid of the cast. Desperately waiting for the day I could finally shed myself of every chain, every restraint.

I wasn't myself in that hospital. I've never been so weak, so low I may as well have buried myself beneath the earth. It served as a reminder. I have everything to lose, everything to gain, and I'm not finished with the world yet.

I lied to Sierra. I told her I'd take it easy. That I wouldn't do anything to jeopardise my recovery. I told her my outlook on life has changed. It has, just not entirely. If I were sane I'd be concerned about how easy it is for me to lie.

I've enjoyed watching her become stronger. Seeing her in power, in control－ this is what motivated me to keep going.

But I couldn't let everything fall into her hands without any help. That wouldn't be fair.

While she believed I was resting, I was securing deals and luring the culprits out of every crevice in existence. Sierra is capable. She could run this city on her own and not a hair would be out of place. Except she shouldn't have to be bloody for me, and I shouldn't sit idly by.

This morning I have a session with my physiotherapist. Or so I told Sierra.

"I didn't do anything," Dreiser cries.

"That's the problem." I brace my hands on the back of the chair he's strapped to. He flinches from the mere sound of the wood squeaking. "My girl asked for your help in the war but you weren't here."

"I had other things to tend to!"

I grasp a fistful of hair and yank his head back. "You fled like a fucking rat."

"I'm not fighting her battles."

Now that brings a smile to Grayson's face. He rises from the table which I lean against, arms calmly folded over my chest. In a blink of an eye the chair is tipped back and the bag is forced over his head. His bellows turn into gargles as the ice cold water is poured over his face.

A glance at my watch silences the nagging voice in the back of my head. We have time. She won't be home yet. Serena won't mention I rescheduled. I imagine she values her ability to speak.

Grayson plants a boot between his legs to slam the chair down. He tugs the bag from his head and delivers a harsh slap to keep him conscious.

"You can do better," he murmurs.

"Wait!" Dreiser pleads, writhing in the chair. Grayson holds the soaked cloth inches from his head. "Okay. I heard the rumours about a potential war before it happened. I was scared. I took the cash from my vault and I got out."

"She was counting on you."

"Looks like she did just fine without me."

Like she'd need to rely on anyone else. The likes of him especially. She doesn't jump ship. She fought for me and she looked damn good doing it.

"Yeah, she did." I flip my knife and drive the blade into his neck, causing a fountain of red to spurt out. While Grayson marvels at the sight of the life escaping him, I wipe my knife clean and pocket it again.