Chapter 31: The silence of an apartment

BRISELLE’S POV.

My phone buzzed against the hard surface of my desk at 8:00 PM, a sharp, metallic sound that made me jump. It was a single, curt message from Kai.

Kai: Be ready in twenty. Driver is downstairs.

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the glass for minutes. No explanation, no "please," just a command. Yesterday, he’d barely acknowledged my existence, sending me home like a finished project, and today, he was summoning me back to the lion’s den. Why? Was there another event? Another gala? Or was this just another performance where I had to play the doting, obsessed girlfriend for the benefit of his father’s inner circle?

A bitter taste filled my mouth…I didn't want to go. Every muscle in my body told me to throw the phone into the trash, but the threat of what he could do to Veronica—the secret Arden had hinted at, anchored me to the floor. I stood up, grabbing my coat, and walked out of the dorm without saying a word to my sister.

The ride to the penthouse was a vacuum. The city lights streaked past, indifferent and cold, until the elevator doors slid open to reveal the apartment.

It was different tonight. There was no music, no frantic energy. The space was cavernous and silent, the floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting the sprawling, dark velvet of the city below.

Kai was standing by the glass, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, his tuxedo jacket discarded on a chair. He looked tired. Not the "professional" tired he’d worn yesterday, but a raw, shallow kind of exhaustion that made him look younger.

He didn't turn when I entered. He just stood there, staring out at the horizon.

"I didn't think I’d hear from you," I said, my voice sounding small in the vast, empty room. "I thought you were busy playing the dutiful son."

Kai finally turned. He took a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down on the marble island.

"I was. Until I wasn't."

He walked toward me, his movements slower than usual. He stopped a few feet away, his gray eyes scanning my face with an intensity that made me want to hide.

"I owe you an apology," he said. His voice was rough, devoid of the practiced charm he used for the cameras. "The drive home yesterday. Sending the driver. It was...I wasn't thinking clearly."

"You weren't thinking clearly?" I repeated, a laugh escaping me, though it held no mirth. "You seemed perfectly clear. You were having a grand old time with your father’s friends while I was sitting in the back of an SUV feeling like I’d just been evicted."

Kai’s jaw tightened. He looked away, his gaze flicking to the floor. "I know how it looked…I know how it felt. I was occupied, yes, but that wasn't the only reason. You pushed me away in the conservatory, Briselle. You drew a line. You told me it was strictly professional."

He looked back up at me, his eyes searching mine. "I respected that. I thought...I thought you didn't want me near you. So, I did what you asked. I kept it professional."

The room felt suddenly very hot. I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the flicker of vulnerability he was so desperate to hide. He had misinterpreted my fear for rejection. He had treated my "keep it professional" plea as a boundary he wasn't allowed to cross, not as the desperate, terrified reaction of a girl who was losing her grip on reality.

"I didn't push you away because I hated you, Kai," I said softly, the silence of the apartment pressing in on us. "I pushed you away because I was scared. I was scared of the way I was feeling, and I was scared that if I didn't remind myself it was just a contract, I was going to forget who I actually was."

Kai’s expression softened, the hard lines of his face relaxing just enough to show the man underneath. He took a step closer, hesitant, as if he were waiting to see if I’d push him again. When I didn't, he reached out, his hand hovering near mine before he gently pulled me toward the living area.

We sat on the leather sofa, the distance between us small, but for the first time, it didn't feel like a performance. We talked. He told me about the pressure of the night, about the deal his father was trying to push through, and about the sheer, suffocating weight of being a Thornefield. I told him about the rumors at school, the photos, and how hard it was to be the "muse" when I felt like a prisoner.

It was almost...normal. For an hour, the blackmail felt like a distant nightmare, and he was just a guy who was tired of his own life.

But then, the conversation took a turn. I thought about the ivy-covered garden. I thought about Arden’s warning and the way he’d looked at me like I was a ticking bomb.

"Kai?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"How long have you known Arden?"

Kai’s body stilled. The casual, relaxed posture vanished instantly, replaced by that familiar, guarded intensity. He turned his head, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Arden? Since we were kids. Why?"

"He told me," I said, watching his face closely. "He told me he’s known you forever. He’s...very protective of you."

Kai let out a short, sharp breath, a shadow passing over his features. "Arden talks too much. He’s a good guy, but he has a habit of inserting himself into places he doesn't belong. Why were you talking to him?"

"I ran into him at school," I said, my heart thumping against my ribs. "We just...talked. He seems really close to you. Does he know about everything? About the deal? About what you’re doing with your father?"

Kai stood up abruptly, pacing toward the window. The "normal" atmosphere evaporated, sucked back into the cold reality of the penthouse. "He knows what he needs to know. Arden is the only person in that house who isn't trying to stab me in the back, but that doesn't mean he should be involving himself in our business."

He turned back to me with dark eyes, his voice low and dangerous. "Stay away from him, Briselle. Arden is a good guy, but he doesn't understand the game. He doesn't know how to play it, and he doesn't know how to win. If you’re looking for answers, you ask me, not him. Do you understand?"

I looked at him, the man who claimed to protect me, the man who was blackmailing me, the man who was currently holding my life in his hands. I wanted to tell him that Arden had told me something he didn't want me to know. I wanted to ask him about Veronica.

But I thought of Arden’s warning: ‘If you tell him, he’ll know I’m the one who cracked. And he won't be able to protect you anymore.’

"I understand," I said quietly, looking down at my hands.

Kai searched my face for a long, agonizing second, his eyes tracing the line of my jaw as if he were looking for the truth. Then, he let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice softening again. "I just...the last thing I need is more complications, Briselle. I have enough of them as it is."

He walked back to the sofa and sat down, closer this time, his shoulder touching mine. But the silence that settled over us wasn't the easy silence from before.