From across the street, hidden behind the tinted windows of a waiting black sedan, Chaos watched Kashi step into her car. The faintest trace of her perfume lingered on his gloves, and his eyes narrowed as he rubbed his thumb against the place where her hand had been.
"Interesting," he murmured, voice low.
Xavier, seated in the front, glanced into the rear-view mirror.
"She didn't recognize you, sir."
Chaos smirked faintly, leaning back in the seat, his gaze never leaving the sight of Kashi's car pulling away.
"Of course she didn't. Hardly anyone ever does. And that's the way it should be... for now."
He turned the memory over in his mind, Kashi's dagger stare, her fiery tongue, the way she refused to bend, even when curiosity flickered in her eyes. Most women trembled under his gaze, but Kashi?
She spat venom and walked away.
And yet, when he brushed her hand, she faltered. Just slightly. Enough.
"She's exactly as I thought," Chaos continued. "Proud. Stubborn. Spoiled."
His smile deepened, but there was no warmth in it only hunger.
"And yet, beneath it all... cracks. The kind only I can see. Damian may have her heart, but I'll have everything else."
Xavier cleared his throat quietly.
"Do you want me to run interference, sir? Arrange another meeting, perhaps something more... direct?"
Chaos shook his head, slipping off the black gloves, revealing the strong lines of his hands, scarred and elegant. He flexed his fingers as though reliving the moment of touching Kashi's.
"No," he said firmly. "Let her come to me. Every time Damian dismisses her, she'll take one step closer."
His icy eyes narrowed, the predator's patience gleaming in them.
"And when she finally breaks... she'll fall into my arms."
The car pulled away from the curb, the storm clouds rolling heavier above. Chaos tilted his head back against the leather seat, closing his eyes briefly as though already savoring what was to come.
"Patience, Xavier," he murmured. "The spoiled little Saint doesn't know it yet... but she's already mine."