Chapter 131

Kenzo’s voice was eerily calm, his stillness more terrifying than any outburst could have been. My throat went dry in an instant, making it impossible to swallow, while my eyes widened in helpless alarm. His gaze trailed slowly over my trembling frame before, without warning, he slammed me against the wall, caging me between his arms. His hands pressed firmly on either side of my head, leaving me nowhere to escape.

“I’m sorry!” I rasped, the words barely escaping my lips.

“Why are you here, Thalassa?” His voice was steady, his eyes dark and relentless, drilling into mine as though he could extract the truth by sheer force of will.

The raw dominance he exuded, especially standing there nearly bare, should have been as intoxicating as it was terrifying. But fear drowned out everything else, numbing my senses and turning my thoughts to static. A thousand possible answers flashed through my mind, yet each one felt absurd, a lie that could only dig my grave deeper.

“I…” My throat locked up, making it painful to even attempt a response.

Unintentionally, my gaze flickered downward—to my pocket. His eyes followed. A small corner of the note I had stuffed there was still visible, peeking out like evidence of my crime. Kenzo moved with unsettling ease, snatching it away with one hand while pressing his other palm against my shoulder, pinning me even harder against the cold surface behind me.

“Delivery at 4 PM. Brad’s report at 5 PM. Dinner at 6 PM,” he read aloud, his tone unreadable.

Then, tilting his head slightly, he smirked and tossed the note aside, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. Heat rushed to my face. I didn’t care what the note contained—I only cared that Kenzo was the one who had written it.

“Well, Thalassa?” He leaned in, the small space between us shrinking further, suffocatingly so.

“I—I needed your handwriting,” I admitted in a breathy whisper, turning my head away, desperate to avoid his stare.

“For what?” His voice dipped lower, brushing against my senses like a dangerous caress. “Were you planning to forge documents in my name?” His lips ghosted along my cheek as he spoke, and an uncontrollable shudder coursed through me.

My heart pounded in response, a wild, erratic rhythm against my ribs. “I… needed to know if I could trust you,” I murmured, barely audible.

Kenzo’s fingers trailed down my arms, his touch deliberate. Then, in one swift movement, he grasped both my wrists in a single hand and raised them above my head.

“And you chose a method that makes you look even less trustworthy in my eyes,” he murmured with a cold chuckle, his body pressing firmly against mine.

I was seconds away from panic. Completely trapped, helpless beneath his strength, my chest rose and fell rapidly, the movement forcing the barest friction against his muscles. His hips edged forward, his presence overwhelming, his breath fanning across my face, my neck. Every inch of me was hyperaware of the space—no, the lack of it—between us.

“I had to know it wasn’t you…” I managed to whisper.

“Explain, Thalassa,” he demanded, his lips grazing the side of my neck, the touch both a warning and a taunt.

I couldn’t tell if he was trying to force the truth out of me or make speaking impossible. His hand slid down my back, tightening around my waist before yanking me flush against him. A gasp slipped from my lips as I inadvertently met his gaze. Those dark, onyx eyes held me captive, drowning out every coherent thought. I squirmed against his hold, desperate to break free, but his grip only tightened.

“Stop it!” I burst out, frustration laced in my voice. “I lose my mind when you’re like this!”

The words left me before I could stop them. And for the first time, Kenzo hesitated. His grip slackened, just slightly, enough for me to inhale a shaky breath. With trembling hands, I pushed against his chest, creating a sliver of distance between us.

“I’ve been investigating encrypted notes addressed to Selene,” I admitted, my voice steadier now. “Whoever sent them has to be someone powerful. I needed to be sure it wasn’t you.”

Kenzo scoffed at my words, but then, without warning, he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“You should have asked me,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “I would have given it to you.”

“I didn’t know that,” I countered, knocking his hand away.

“You should have trusted me, at least that much.” His arms folded over his chest, his posture radiating challenge.

I exhaled sharply. “Would you seriously walk up to someone who might be behind a series of brutal deaths and ask them to hand over the evidence?”

Kenzo’s lips curved into a smug smirk, and in a blink, he had me back in his grasp, one arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me close once more. “If I were as ruthless as you seem to think, Thalassa, you’d be dead by now.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. Summoning a feeble smile, I carefully maneuvered out of his hold. “At least now I know you’re not EH.”

Kenzo’s brow furrowed. “EH?”

“That’s the signature on the notes,” I explained.

His gaze darkened with intrigue. “And why do you think it had to be someone powerful?”

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “Because of the way they were written. The messages weren’t requests—they were commands. Whoever EH is, they had no fear of ordering Selene around.”

Kenzo’s expression twisted with something close to disgust. “And you thought I had something to do with that bloodsucking bitch?” he snarled, the idea seemingly offensive to him.

“Well…” I gave him an uneasy smile. “You are powerful. And you’re one of the few people who can toy with Hadrian without him ever realizing it was you.”

Kenzo straightened up, his confidence swelling in predictable fashion after feeding his ego. A sly, uncontrollable smirk curled the corners of his lips.

"Fine, I'll forgive you," he said nonchalantly, sauntering back into the bathroom to retrieve the key I had dropped.

I cleared my throat, watching him parade around in nothing but a loosely wrapped towel. If I weren’t so flustered by the entire situation, I might have taken a moment to fully admire the view.

The tribal tattoos stretched across the left side of his chest, accentuating his sculpted muscles. Some of the ink wound downward in thorny, intricate lines, curving over his obliques, teasing the sharp V-line that disappeared just beneath the knot of his towel. A dangerously captivating sight.

Kenzo swung the key between his fingers as he approached. "Is this what you were looking for in my bathroom?" he asked, as though he didn’t already know the answer.

I arched a brow, having endured more than enough teasing for one day. "What else would I be looking for in your bathroom while you were showering?" I scoffed.

"Sex."

He said it with such casual confidence that for a second, I almost thought I had misheard him. But the look on his face made it clear—he wasn’t joking.

Laughter erupted from me, loud and unrestrained, and I abruptly decided it was time to leave. I reached for the key, but just as he pulled his hand back, I lost my balance. My fingers clamped around the first solid thing I could grab—anything to keep from falling. Unfortunately, that "thing" was not Kenzo’s chest.

A second later, I straightened, only to freeze in absolute horror.

The towel.

The very same towel that had been wrapped securely around Kenzo just moments ago now lay discarded on the floor.

"Oh, God," I gasped, my eyes instinctively landing where the towel should have been.

"Not quite yet," Kenzo murmured, entirely unfazed. "But it does get bigger."

His smirk, brimming with unapologetic confidence, burned itself into my mind.

I turned the deepest shade of red, spun around, and bolted for the door. My only salvation was unlocking it and escaping before my dignity suffered any further. But my hands, trembling with sheer panic, fumbled with the key, making the simple task impossible.

"Here, let me help you with that," Kenzo breathed against my ear, his voice sending a shockwave through me.

I barely suppressed a scream as he stepped in behind me, pressing close enough that the heat of his bare skin radiated against my back. With maddening ease, he covered my hand with his own, guiding the key into the lock before turning it slowly.

"It’d be much better if you didn’t run every time I got close to you," he murmured, his lips hovering just above my temple.

We both knew I was about to run again. I had reached my limit, and staying in his room—especially with him standing shamelessly naked behind me—was out of the question. My fingers clenched around the door handle, and as soon as I twisted it open, a rush of relief surged through me.

Without wasting another second, I shot through the doorway, sprinting into my room with my eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Kenzo's laughter echoed down the corridor, undoubtedly reveling in my humiliation. He was going to milk this moment for all it was worth—I could feel it. But the worst part? There were some things you simply couldn’t unsee. And unfortunately for me… this was one of them.

By the time an hour had passed, I had already made another terrible decision—calling Varen to tell him everything.

Not only did he fail to ease my embarrassment, but he laughed so hard I feared he might actually choke. I swore I’d make him regret it the next time we met, but he only responded with his usual teasing charm, claiming he awaited me with open arms.

Of course, I forgave him before the call even ended. He was my partner in crime, after all—even if I was always the one suffering the consequences.

With Kenzo crossed off our list of suspects, we needed a new lead. Varen assured me that we would interview the most reliable servants inside the Palace, hoping to uncover even the smallest hint. I told him I would stay vigilant, keeping an ear out for anything connected to EH. To keep me occupied during what he mockingly referred to as my "dull werewolf-pack days," he granted me access to the Thorne family’s private online library—a resource I hadn’t even known existed. He suggested I dig through the noble families' histories for possible clues, and I eagerly agreed.

By the time our call ended, I had managed to shake off the morning’s mortification.

The rest of the day passed without incident—no unexpected run-ins with Kenzo, no further embarrassment. I even managed a full night’s sleep… at least until 5:30 AM.

A decisive knock shattered my peaceful slumber, jarring me awake with such force that my heart nearly leapt out of my chest. I jolted upright, ready to murder whoever had the audacity to disturb me at this ungodly hour.

I stormed to the door, prepared for war—only to be met with Kenzo’s infuriatingly smug grin.

"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted, handing me a glass filled with what looked suspiciously like a protein shake.

I tilted my head, squinting at him in sheer confusion. "Why are you here?"

Kenzo smirked, his gaze sweeping over me. "Get dressed," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I’m going to test whether you're ready to join our war."