She was my Wildflower.
My saint.
You might call it redemption, but that would be a lie.
With Kashi, there was never anything to redeem.
She was temptation made flesh—perfect addiction wrapped in beauty—and I was simply wrath waiting for someone brave enough to hold it.
My villain.
My mistress.
If she were a god, I would be the only devoted worshipper at her temple.
Why?
Because she was the only person who could look at another monster like herself...
and call it love.
Our love was never redemption.
It was wildfire.
And with it, we would burn down everything in our path.
~ Chaos Riegrow
The photograph turned slowly between Kashi's fingers.
Damian, smiling.
Natalie beside him, wearing that same innocent expression. The innocent girl.
Kashi's lips curled.
She dropped the photograph onto the floor. Her YSL heel came down over it.
A year ago, it would have humiliated her.
Years of devotion. Years of playing the perfect fiancée-to-be, only for that bastard to choose some poor unfortunate over her.
What a joke.
But who was she kidding? She was Kashi Saints.
She had played the devoted fiancée. The devoted lover. Had been obsessed enough to feel threatened by a conniving, insolent pest like Natalie.
Dust beneath her heel.
The photograph crumpled further beneath the pressure of her shoe.
"Zach."
She said his name softly.
Zach flinched where he stood and immediately straightened. "Yes, ma'am?"
"What do you do when something is taken from you?" Kashi turned towards him, that unsettling smile still resting on her lips.
Zach swallowed. "Um… take it back, I suppose."
"How?"
"If it's important to me, I'd try every means possible." His gaze flickered over her expression. "Ma'am."
Kashi considered that. "But what if you no longer want it?"
Zach shut his eyes for one brief second. He had absolutely no idea why his boss was asking him this. "Then… I'd let it go."
Kashi stared at him. "Let it go?" The concept seemed to personally offend her. She lifted her foot, peeled the mangled photograph from the sole of her heel and examined it. "I hate letting things go."
Zach wisely remained silent.
"I already wished them the best," Kashi continued. A smile returned. "But who says the best has to be something good?"
Zach's stomach dropped.
Damian and Natalie Grey.
Newly married.
Young, stupid love.
For every humiliation they had brought her, She would repay it tenfold.
"Do the Greys still control the western port?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Pull out."
Zach blinked. "Ma'am?"
Kashi looked at him. "I built that shit."
"I… I know, ma'am, but—"
"And now I want out." She tossed the photograph onto her desk. "Pull Saints' investment. Every stake, every agreement, every tie we have to it. Out."
Heat crept up Zach's neck. Of all the days for his boss to lose her mind, she had chosen today.
"But it's too soon. Pulling out immediately would result in—"
"Losses? Casualties?" Kashi waved a hand. "Fickle things. Saints Group can absorb it."
"It's more than that." Zach stepped forward, apparently deciding that death by reasoning with Kashi was preferable to whatever paperwork awaited him. "Saints Group has partnered with Grey Enterprises for years."
Kashi looked up. "And?"
One word. Almost bored.
Zach paled.
"They've enjoyed our support for too long," Kashi continued. "Actually…" She leaned back. "From today onwards, sever every tie we have with Grey Enterprises. We will no longer partner with them."
Zach wanted to faint.
Not because of the decision. Because of the paperwork.
Kashi picked up the photograph again and crushed it inside her fist.
A cruel smile played across her lips.
She had helped make Grey Enterprises what it was.
Now she would see how well Damian managed while it fell apart.
Her phone chimed.
Kashi glanced at the screen.
Zarri: Where the hell are you? I'm in a colour emergency!
She stared at the message.
Then stood.
All right.
Revenge could wait.
By tomorrow, Grey Enterprises could start burning.
But right now?
Best-friend emergency.
💜~~~~~~~
"Yellow?"
Zarri squinted at the dress in her hand. "Not my style… What do you think, Kashi?"
Kashi closed the book resting on her lap and looked up, her gaze travelling over the dress. "Seems fine to me."
Zarri tossed it towards the assistant standing nearby, who nearly lost her footing trying to catch it.
"Every colour is fine to you. Where has your taste gone?" She picked up the glass of champagne from the table and took a sip.
"What choice do I have?" Kashi said, amused. "I was literally pulled out of a meeting to come and choose colours for you. Poor me."
"Heh." Zarri gave her a painfully fake smile. "What else is a best friend for if you can't drag them out to assist you every now and then?"
Kashi folded her arms and crossed one leg over the other, settling further into the sofa. "Your fashion house has over a hundred employees. Not one of them can help you choose?" She pointed towards the dress now hanging awkwardly from the assistant's arms. "Sunset yellow?"
"Technically, it's light yellow," Zarri corrected.
The assistant looked down at the dress. "Um… Miss Kashi is right. It's actually sunset yellow."
Zarri slowly turned her head. "Et tu, Brutus? Et tu?"
The assistant pressed her lips together, fighting a smile.
Kashi raised a brow. "Now who has no taste?"
"Still you, bitch." Zarri dropped onto the sofa beside her and bumped Kashi with her hip.
"Scoot."
Kashi shifted aside.
Zarri immediately leaned closer. "So…" She rested an elbow against the back of the sofa. "Feed me."
Kashi looked at her. "Are you hungry?"
Zarri stared.
"I get that you're not interested in all this Gen Z talk, but don't be corny, Kashi."
Kashi laughed. "All right. The deal still stands, and so far, nothing has gone wrong." She paused. "Yet."
Zarri's expression changed. "Yet? What do you mean, yet?"
Kashi adjusted the collar of her suit.
She was still dressed for work, a red suit over a crisp white shirt, evidence enough that Zarri had dragged her straight out of Saints Company. When she uncrossed her legs, the heels of her YSL pumps struck the floor with a sharp click.
"The blueprint still hasn't been submitted, and the executives in charge are attending every meeting to discuss the construction of the—"
Her gaze flicked towards the assistant. The woman caught the cue immediately.
She bowed and left the room.
Kashi waited until the door closed. "Sigurd. The construction of Sigurd."
"That sounds like things are going well." Zarri took another sip of champagne. "When will the blueprints drop?"
"I haven't finished drawing them up yet." Kashi rested her head briefly against the sofa. "At the pace I'm going, probably another month or two."
"But?"
Kashi's mouth flattened. "The idiot backing us hasn't attended a single meeting."
Zarri burst out laughing. "Chaos!"
Kashi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Ever since the last incident, she hadn't seen or heard from him.
So much for being a business partner.
SIGURD was a next-generation autonomous anti-army weapons platform designed to neutralise an entire battlefield without conventional bombardment.
Not a missile.
A weapon system.
Once fully built, it would be transported in sections and assembled only upon deployment. When activated, Sigurd would establish a controlled combat zone around itself.
Anyone hearing the description would assume it was some weapon of mass destruction.
In reality, beneath the targeting systems, autonomous processors and obscene amount of engineering, Sigurd relied on one of mankind's oldest solutions for killing another human being.
A bullet.
The difference was that Sigurd did not miss.
When the contract had been offered to Saints, Kashi partnered with X Holding to build it.
Not because she couldn't do it alone. Because Sigurd was too complicated for a single powerhouse to manage efficiently.
And yet, only weeks after X Holding signed onto the project, its CEO had apparently gone AWOL.
Meetings.
Plans.
Technical discussions.
Executive briefings.
That bastard had attended none of them.
Not. Even. One.