Kairen's head snapped to the side, hair falling over his cheek. He didn't fall. Didn't speak. Just stood there breathing hard.
And I just kept watching. No reaction. No interruption. Not my job.
I didn't flinch when the second slap came. Or the third.
Kairen did. Not from the impact, no—his jaw took it like a man who'd been hit before—but from the humiliation that came with it.
The loss of dignity in the sharp, skin-on-skin sound. I could see it. The red print blooming across his cheek. The way his chest rose, a little too quick. The flash of something flickering behind his eyes: rage, shame, pride—all rolled into one beautiful, trembling mess.
The fourth slap didn't land.
It hovered, just barely, Dimitri's large hand still raised in the air, poised like a guillotine that chose mercy at the last second. Kairen didn't move. Didn't speak. He just stood there, fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white, chin tilted slightly up like he was daring his father to finish the job.
I watched. Not with pity. Just a practiced calm. A cold stillness honed from years of standing guard while rich men did ugly things. But even I felt something twist in my chest watching this. Kairen, golden heir, reduced to a silent, burning boy.
I hadn't expected him to look so small up close. So… fragile, even if it was all just a front for something meaner underneath.
And still, not a single word fell from his lips. Just the crackle of tension and the heavy breathing of someone who had been taught since birth not to show weakness—even when it was breaking him from the inside out.
Dimitri finally spoke again. His voice was cold, the kind that didn't need to be loud to send a chill through your spine.
"You're a disgrace, Kairen."
He said it so simply, like stating the weather. No anger. No drama. Just the truth as he saw it.
Kairen didn't answer. I could see him still trying to steady his breathing. His cheek was bright red, skin tight around the spot where the slap landed. But he didn't move. Didn't flinch. Just stood there, waiting for the next blow. Or maybe something worse.
"You think you can throw away everything we built?" Dimitri took a slow step closer. "The empire your grandfather bled for. The one I made indestructible. You think you can run from that?"
I didn't look away. I didn't blink. I wanted to see this, every second of it. I had been warned about Dimitri's temper, about how ruthless he could be. But this wasn't rage. This was ice.
"You sneak off like a coward. Hiding like a rat. And for what?" He let out a low, joyless laugh. "Alcohol? Drugs? Sex? Partying with people who'll never understand your worth? That's your rebellion?"
Kairen's lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't respond. I think if he had, he might've snapped.
Dimitri stepped back finally, returning to the comfort of his grand desk like nothing had happened. He adjusted his cufflinks with casual elegance and said, almost softly, "You can't escape your fate, Kairen. It's your curse."
I watched Kairen quietly recover. He seemed good at it—putting himself back together in silence, like a man who'd been doing it his whole life. His breathing slowed. His posture straightened. And just like that, he wore the mask again. The pretty, polished heir.
Dimitri finally looked at me then.
"You did well," he said.
I nodded once. No need for thanks.
Then he turned to Kairen. "Starting next week, you'll be stepping into your rightful place. CEO of K-S Continental. You'll be overseeing our operations across Europe. It's time you prove you're not just a rotten baggage."
Kairen didn't respond. Just stared at him like he was still trying to decide whether to scream or laugh.
"You'll be working under strict supervision. I'm assigning Viktor to you as a personal bodyguard. Twenty-four-seven. He answers only to me."
I stayed still as Dimitri continued, as if reading a list from memory. "Ex-military. Six years with the Spetsnaz. Thirty-Four high-risk terminations. Loyal. Efficient. Unshakeable."
I caught the subtle shift in Kairen's expression. Displeasure. Annoyance. He didn't like being watched. Especially not by someone like me.
"You two will get used to each other," Dimitri said simply. "Because failure is not an option."
And just like that, the conversation was over. He waved us off like we were dismissed. Like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't just broken his own son into pieces.
I didn't wait. I turned, stepping behind Kairen, ready to escort him out. His silence echoed louder than any words.
As soon as we stepped out of Dimitri's study, I felt it—the shift. The air around Kairen changed. He paused just outside the door, no longer the composed, well-trained heir he'd pretended to be a moment ago. His spine straightened, shoulders rolling back in a stretch that seemed casual, but I could see through it.
Then he scoffed, soft and bitter, brushing his fingers along his jaw where the imprint of his father's hand still lingered faintly.
"Old bastard doesn't know how fucking heavy his hands are," he muttered, mostly to himself.
I didn't say anything. Just watched.
He turned to face me, his expression unreadable for half a second—then it twisted into something darker. A crooked smile pulled at his lips as he stepped toward me, slow, deliberate, and full of a threat he hadn't yet put into words. I didn't move. I didn't need to.
He stopped just inches from me.
"So," he said, voice smooth and quiet, repeating his father's words with mock sweetness, "'You'll be with me twenty-four-seven. Personal bodyguard. Shadow. Babysitter. Pet dog.' Sound about right?"
I didn't respond. I let the silence thicken between us.
And then he moved—fast. His fingers curled around the collar of my coat, tugging me down just enough to speak into my ear. His breath was warm against my skin, and I could smell weed, sweat, and something sweet beneath it.
"I'm going to make you regret ever taking this job," he whispered, voice dark and dangerous like a promise wrapped in a time bomb. "You'd regret ever hearing the name Kairen."
I let the silence stretch a little longer than necessary. Felt his breath fan over my skin. He thought he was threatening me. But I'd known monsters. I'd fought beside them. Killed them. Buried them.
I let a small chuckle roll out of me. Low. Dry. I leaned in closer just a little, let my own lips hover by his ear.
"I can't wait to be entertained," I murmured.
His eyes narrowed slightly when I pulled back, but that smile? It only deepened.
He stepped back, tugging at his clothes like he hadn't just threatened me with poetic violence.
I followed. Of course I did. That was my job now.
And maybe—just maybe—I was going to enjoy it.