Kyra sat in a corner booth at a quiet café, a cup of black coffee warming her gloved hands.
She took a slow sip, her pale lips barely parting, her eyes calm but distant.
The table jolted suddenly.
A heavy hand had slammed down hard enough to rattle the cup. Drops of coffee spilled near the saucer.
Kyra didn’t flinch. She just set the cup down gently, her movements precise.
Across from her sat Callen. A black cap shadowed his face, but the sharp set of his jaw and the fire in his red eyes were visible.
He leaned forward, his voice low and filled with anger. "Why did you call me?"
Kyra’s gaze flicked to him, her expression unreadable. "Didn’t I already tell you? It’s because of Noel—"
The table shook again. Another slam. Louder this time.
"Don’t you dare say her name." His voice cut like a blade.
A pause. The café’s soft murmurs died for a second. A few heads turned.
Kyra’s brows lowered slightly.
He leaned closer, words hissing through clenched teeth. "I’m sure you’re just as disgusting as the bastard you serve."
Kyra’s eyes sharpened. Her tone dropped, each word slow, measured. "I don’t serve anyone," she stated. "It’s just a contract."
Her stare pressed against him like a blade at his throat. Callen’s breath hitched.
He remembered how easily she had slammed him onto the ground, as simple as lifting a hand.
A chill crawled up his spine despite the heat of his anger. He coughed once, forcing a false calm into his body.
He leaned back in his chair, adjusting his cap like nothing had happened. "So..." His tone tried for casual but cracked faintly. "...did that bastard ask you to say something to me?"
Instead, her hand slipped inside her black suit. Her movements were unhurried.
When her hand came out, it held four photographs.
She tossed them across the table with a flick of her wrist.
The glossy prints slid over the table and stopped in front of him.
Callen frowned and picked one up. The second his eyes caught the image, his expression froze.
A faint click went off in his mind, sharp and hollow, like a trigger snapping.
The first photo showed Jace with his head resting on Noelle’s thighs.
The second, Jace kissing her hand.
The third, his palm cupping her cheek.
Callen’s breath caught.
Their lips. Pressed together. Captured in perfect clarity.
His chest caved in with a violent rush of heat, rage flooding like fire in his veins.
The photo crumpled under his fingers as his hand curled into a fist.
The next second, his chair screeched back with a harsh scrape. He shot to his feet, voice splitting the café’s calm.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"
Gasps spread around them.
Kyra didn’t even glance at him. She was sipping her coffee calmly, eyes half-lidded.
"ARE YOU TRYING TO IGNORE ME?!" Callen’s roar cracked the air, but Kyra stayed silent.
She drained the last drop, set the cup down softly, and only then spoke.
"You seem to have anger issues."
His veins bulged, his fists curling so tight his nails dug into his palm, leaving deep red crescents. His entire frame trembled with rage.
"What the fuck are you talking ab—"
"Look at your surroundings," she said flatly.
He froze for a second, then turned his head slightly.
Every eye in the café was on him. Phones were already up for recording.
If not for the cap shielding most of his face, his name would already be trending.
The realization slammed into him like cold water.
Kyra’s voice slipped through the tension. "Let’s talk in the car."
Though reluctant, he accepted.
The car door shut with a soft click.
Callen sat in the seat beside Kyra. "Why are we in my car?"
Kyra adjusted the seat belt, her voice calm. "Because I came with a taxi."
He shot her a glare. "Then why the hell are you driving my car?"
A few moments passed but Kyra still didn’t answer.
Callen exhaled hard, forcing his temper down. "Fine. Whatever." He shifted in his seat, his tone sharpening into something cold. "Now tell me..."
His voice cracked with fury. "...WHAT DID THAT BASTARD DO TO NOELLE?"
Kyra’s expression unreadable. "It would be better to show than tell."
She pressed down on the accelerator. The engine growled.
The car sped through the streets, lights flashing past in streaks of neon.
Callen’s hands curled tight on his knees, his breath ragged with barely contained rage.
They stopped at Royal Orchid Hotel.
The marble floors gleamed under the chandelier’s glow. Kyra’s shoes clicked softly as she walked ahead.
Callen followed close behind, his cap pulled low. His steps were fast, tense.
They stopped near a corridor.
Kyra raised a hand, signaling silence. Then she tilted her head toward the corner.
Callen frowned but leaned slightly.
Noelle stood there. Auburn hair cascading down her shoulders, green eyes glancing at the door in front of her. Her fingers were restless, adjusting the belt of her trench coat.
Callen looked at her with confusion. ’Why is she here?’
Then the door opened.
A tall figure appeared, a deep navy silk robe hung loose. His hair fell slightly across his forehead, a smile curving his lips.
Callen’s vision burned red.
Heat crawled up his neck, veins bulging across his temples as his jaw locked hard enough to crack teeth.
Rage consumed him whole.
Then he saw her. Noelle’s eyes lit up the second Jace appeared. Her lips curved into a bright, cheerful smile.
She took a small step toward him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, shy but drawn to him, their smiles meeting in quiet understanding.
That smile, sweet and genuine, slammed into Callen’s chest harder than any punch.
Every muscle in his body tightened until his neck ached. His cap slipped back, exposing the fury carved into his face.
Before his mind could catch up, his body lurched forward, a sharp step like he was ready to kill.