No one ever managed to predict Kellan's moods, and the way he handled problems was ruthless enough to keep even seasoned men on edge.

Back when he first returned to seize control of Wright Pharma, he had dismantled half of the senior leadership in just three days, acting fast and without hesitation. The fallout was immediate. Complaints spread behind closed doors, resentment festered, and enemies multiplied, all waiting for a chance to drag him down.

Tension thickened the air inside the room. Clayton stood rigid and silent, praying he would not become the next outlet for his boss's anger.

After a long pause, Kellan finally lifted his gaze, his eyes colder than steel. "That Avery. He caught my attention. Do you think he was planted by that person?"

The pressure rolling off Kellan made Clayton's shoulders stiffen. The name left unspoken needed no explanation. Everyone in their world knew exactly who Kellan meant.

Clayton drew in a careful breath before answering. "I do not think so. From what I can tell, Avery was likely not sent by him."

The words barely left his mouth before he swallowed hard, bracing himself under Kellan's scrutiny.

"Then why has there been no report about this?" Kellan asked, his tone sharp enough to slice through the room.

Cold crept up Clayton's spine as he answered quickly. "I will look into it immediately. I will find out how Avery ended up with that key card."

Without waiting for permission, he turned and left the room at once.

...

Morning light crept through the curtains when Avery finally stirred, warmth brushing against her face. She lifted an arm to block the brightness and frowned, confusion settling in as she muttered, "Where am I?"

Startled, Avery turned her head and spotted a wooden plaque resting on the table, the engraved words unmistakable. Laurel Club.

Everything from the night before rushed back at once. This was Kellan's private domain, a place she had heard whispered about ever since joining Horizon Group. Exhaustion from the confrontation had drained her so thoroughly that she had passed out without even realizing it.

She shoved the blanket aside, swung her legs over the bed, and rolled her stiff neck, irritation rising as Kellan's face surfaced in her mind.

The man had barged into her room and even beaten her. The more she thought about it, the more absurd it felt.

Her eyes drifted around the suite. Along one wall stood a row of refined wardrobes, their surfaces polished smooth and releasing a faint, clean scent into the air.

The same rare wood used for the main door had been spared no expense here either.

Gold edged paintings lined the walls, each one depicting indulgent scenes of naked men and women sprawled in excess.

Disgust curled her lip as she muttered, "Meaningless decor."

After washing up quickly, she faced the mirror and carefully applied a specially made chest skin patch, blending it seamlessly with her own skin before pulling on her clothes and heading out without delay.

Staying here felt dangerous. Her instincts warned her not to linger.

Down in the club's parking area, Avery stayed alert, her gaze sweeping for her car until a sudden sound behind her made her tense. She moved too fast and collided straight into someone's chest.

She pulled back at once and lifted her head, her breath catching when a sharp, handsome face came into view. It was Kellan.

Did he have a habit of showing up without warning, always at the worst possible moment?

Their eyes met, and a brief flash of surprise crossed Kellan's face before it vanished behind a mask of cool restraint, leaving nothing readable behind his gaze.

Recognition followed just as quickly. The person standing in front of him was Avery, the same one who had traded blows with him the night before.

Avery's hand curled into a fist as the memory surfaced, every ache in her body reminding her of how that encounter had ended.

A crooked smile lifted her lips as she spoke in a teasing drawl. "Well, this is a surprise. Did you wake up early just hoping to run into me?"

She leaned in slightly, close enough to brush Kellan's chest, her tone careless and bold while her eyes traveled over him like he was something to be appraised rather than feared.

Her body still throbbed from the beating he had given her, and she knew better than to challenge him head on again. If she could not win with strength, then she would tease him instead.

The effect was immediate. Kellan's expression cooled, sharp and unforgiving. Disrespect was something he never allowed, especially not when others could see it.

To mock him again so openly meant this person had learned nothing from the night before.

The shift in his presence set off alarms in Avery's mind, and unease crept in where confidence had been moments earlier. She straightened at once, her fingers tightening as instinct urged her to put distance between herself and the danger standing in front of her.

A sleek black Maybach rolled up and glided to a stop near Kellan and Avery. The special license plate gleamed in the morning sun as the door creaked open. Clayton sat stiffly in the front seat, his jaw dropping the moment he spotted Avery.

Before anyone could speak, Kellan extended his arm, his movements filled with authority that left no room for argument. He made it clear that in his territory, nobody would dare to cross him.

"If you think you can mess with me and get away with it, you're mistaken," said Kellan, his voice cutting through the silence. His cold stare could have sent shivers down anyone's spine.

Clayton recoiled, fear twisting his features.

Avery's pulse skipped when Kellan's hand clamped onto her collar. She refused to show weakness and instead flashed a playful grin. "Mess with you? Please. I just think there's something fateful between us. You sneaked into my room last night, and now here you are again. Fate keeps throwing us together, don't you think?"

She drew out her words, making sure every syllable dripped with mischief. Clayton watched with disbelief, certain this fool had lost his mind for daring to tease Kellan.

Kellan's expression grew even grimmer, and the air around them turned sharp with tension.

Lifting her brow, Avery met his gaze, her eyes sparkling with both defiance and humor.

Kellan paused to steady himself, but Avery was already moving. Her hand darted to her cufflink, and in a blink, a blade shimmered between her fingers.

"I guess this round is mine, don't you agree?" She chuckled under her breath and thrust the blade at Kellan's chest.

In a flash, the tables turned. Kellan caught her wrist, forcing the blade's edge against Avery's neck instead. "You've got five seconds to make a choice. Live or die?" said him.

A cold spark flickered in Avery's eyes as she registered just how fast he was.

She dropped her eyes to keep her feelings in check, then lifted her chin with stubborn resolve and pushed back anyway. "Die? That sounds foreign. But if you are the one who ends me, I suppose it would not be the worst way to go."

Calm settled into her gaze as she met him directly, showing no panic at all. "If you plan to do it, then be quick about it. Hesitation only makes you look weak."

Ever since she joined Horizon Group, Avery had been thrown into situations far worse than this. Threats no longer rattled her, even when they came from the man who technically ruled her professional life.

Kellan shifted his attention away from her and flicked the blade toward Clayton. Having just stepped out of the car, Clayton staggered for a second before snapping his hand out and catching it cleanly.

"Interesting. Looks like my judgment was not wrong," said Kellan, his brow lifting slightly. "You have guts, and I respect that. How about working directly for me from now on?" A slow smile appeared on Kellan's face as he looked back at her.

Confusion creased Avery's forehead as she tried to read what he was really after.

Shock flashed across Clayton's face as well. Only yesterday, Kellan had suspected Avery of being a planted operative, yet now he was inviting Avery to stay close. Clayton stared at Kellan, clearly struggling to understand the shift.

"So what is this really about? Are you saying this because you actually like me?" Avery asked with a light laugh, teasing curling through her tone as she clasped her hands behind her back.

Behind her playful front, her thoughts raced. She had been looking for a way to get closer to Kellan, and now he was offering it himself, placing the opportunity directly in her hands.

Maybe Kellan had picked up on something she did not intend to reveal?

Suspicion flickered in her eyes as she glanced over at him, as though worried he might actually be interested in her after all she had just said.

Clayton suddenly yanked a gun free and pressed it to Avery's temple. "You better watch what you say and remember who you're talking to! Who do you think you are? Show any more disrespect to Mr. Wright, and your life ends here!"

Every muscle in his hand tensed as his finger lingered over the trigger, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on.

"That's enough." Kellan's voice cut through the standoff as he motioned for Clayton to back off. Clayton nodded and slowly lowered the weapon, but his stare never left Avery.

"You'd better mind your words. Push me again, and you will regret it," said Kellan, fixing Avery with a steely glare.

Avery's response was to size him up from head to toe, then turn her back on him and walked away with an audible scoff.

Clayton started to move after her but froze when Kellan shot him a warning look. Kellan had no intention of forcing Avery's decision. A person with Avery's spirit would never rush into anything without careful thought. Avery had accomplished in months what others needed years to achieve, and that spoke volumes about his drive.

Someone like that would never be easily swayed once she made up her mind.

He preferred not to push. Deep down, he already knew how Avery would react.

Avery had talent that could rival anyone in his circle, but his disregard for authority grated on him. Both times they met, Avery had found some way to get under his skin.

Kellan found himself silently questioning whether Avery was really into men.

As Kellan settled into the back seat, Clayton hesitated for a moment, stealing a glance at Avery's retreating figure before slipping into the passenger seat without a word.

Letting someone walk away after multiple attempts on his life was not typical for Kellan. Clayton could not recall a single instance where Kellan had shown such leniency.

In Wruosas, both the criminal world and those on the straight path knew better than to challenge Kellan's authority.

It took a rare kind of courage—or recklessness—for Avery to keep pressing his luck the way he did.

A deep breath helped Clayton steady himself, still reeling from everything he had just witnessed.

"If you have a question, then spit it out," said Kellan, his tone low and commanding, impatience written clearly in his brow as he fixed Clayton with a sharp look.

Turning slightly in his seat, Clayton swallowed his nerves before speaking up. "Mr. Wright... that troublemaker really doesn't know his place. He keeps testing your limits without a care. Should I arrange for someone to handle it quietly?"

For a moment, Kellan said nothing, his gaze sliding toward the driver. The driver caught his eye in the rearview mirror and immediately exited the car without needing further explanation.

"Take the wheel," said Kellan, his words flat and cold.

Clayton's pulse jumped, but he did as he was told, quickly climbing into the driver's seat and starting the engine.

The car sped out of the club's lot, tires whispering against the pavement while Clayton's nerves only grew tighter with every passing second.

Kellan explained, lines creasing his forehead, "His instincts are razor sharp, and he's got far more going on beneath the surface than most people. If someone sent him after me, he's not just a problem—he's a serious threat. But killing him reveals nothing..."

Kellan let the thought trail off, his fingers rhythmically drumming on the padded armrest.

A cold shiver ran down Clayton's spine as he picked up on the unspoken meaning in Kellan's tone. In the rearview mirror, he caught a glimpse of Kellan's smile—one that was more dangerous than reassuring.

"Are you planning to bring him in for further probe, Mr. Wright?" Clayton asked, choosing his words with care.

"That's right. But if he jumps at the offer without a second thought, I'll know he's hiding something."

With a flick of his wrist, Kellan straightened the cuffs on his tailored suit, his movements deliberate and calm, the picture of someone in absolute control. He fixed his gaze outside, then spoke without turning his head. "Hand me the blade."

Memories of the compact blade Avery carried came rushing back, and something keen flashed in Kellan's eyes.

Clayton wavered for a moment, then placed the tiny blade in Kellan's waiting palm.

Kellan studied the handle, noticing the letter "A" etched into the metal. Kellan's voice was low and thoughtful as he remarked, "Avery... you keep getting more intriguing."

A heavy thump echoed as the car door slammed shut beside Avery, rattling the quiet.

Settling into the seat, Avery let herself breathe out slowly. Her fingertips brushed the fresh scrape at her neck, where a smear of blood still lingered as a reminder.

Images from the underground garage swirled in her mind—Kellan's presence radiated danger, and her instincts had kicked in without warning.

She realized that if Kellan ever caught wind of her true intentions, she could forget about getting anywhere near him again.

"Just my luck," she muttered, knuckles whitening as she smacked the steering wheel in frustration.

Once she had a firm grip, Avery started the engine. The Benz G-Class surged forward, humming steadily as it carried her down city streets and toward the forest-lined outskirts.

After an hour on the road, the car coasted into a private lane shaded by trees, pulling up outside a discreet row of townhouses. The third security team's training base for Horizon Group was tucked away here, far from prying eyes.

Only then did Avery's nerves begin to settle, comforted by the temporary sense of security.

Moving quickly, she darted into the villa and caught the elevator just in time. Her room waited on the third floor. After pressing the button, she slumped quietly against the chilly elevator wall.

Before the doors could seal, a hand wedged into the gap, stopping them. Eben Harris—one of her subordinates—stood there, concern written on his face. "Avery, are you alright? Did you get hurt?"

For a moment, she blinked in surprise. Eben's sudden appearance was the last thing she expected.

Almost by reflex, she shielded her neck with her palm, then gave a small shake of her head. "I'm fine. It's nothing, just a scratch."

Suspicion flickered in Eben's eyes. "You didn't have any injuries yesterday. Did someone ambush you on the way back?"

After a brief pause, Avery offered a reassuring smile. "No ambush. Just a bit of bad luck in the club's bathroom—some broken glass, that's all. Really, it's nothing worth worrying about."

"You really ought to get that cleaned and wrapped up. That cut doesn't look minor." Eben frowned, eyeing the fresh blood as it stained Avery's neck.

Avery's face hardened, her stare turning sharp as glass as she fixed her eyes on him.

That piercing look unsettled Eben, but he continued, "Look, Avery, you're tougher than most, and I get that you shrug off pain. But the word just came down—there's a confrontation match at headquarters in three days. If you show up hurt, you'll be benched."

A murmur escaped her, more to herself than to him. "So, I'm the target this time? How pathetic."

She crossed her arms with a scoff, irritation flickering across her features.

All she had done was toss a few taunts at Kellan out in the open, and now he was stooping to petty payback. Some men could never let things go.

A short, dry laugh escaped her. If he thought little tricks like this would back her into a corner, he was dead wrong.

The elevator's ding cut through her thoughts as they arrived at her floor.

Eben was just about to mention calling the medic, but Avery shot him a look that left no room for argument—she would not have anyone else fussing over her.

As the doors began to slide shut, Avery turned back and called out, "Eben, go get me a bottle of whiskey. And don't bring anything else."

Eben offered a silent nod, accepting her request without protest.

Avery's private room lay at the far end of the hallway—a space she guarded fiercely, never allowing anyone inside.

Stepping into the solitude of her room, she let out a weary breath. Instinct told her that peaceful days were out of reach now.

Once Kellan marked someone as his target, he never gave up the chase.

For a split second, a cold edge appeared in her eyes, but she hid it almost instantly.

A short while later, Eben's voice floated through the door. "Avery, do you want help with that cut? I brought some supplies."

She had just finished her shower and slipped into a loose, white shirt when she pulled open the door. Eben stood outside, whiskey in one hand, a small medical kit in the other, worry etched into every line of his face.

Avery snapped her fingers with a smirk. "Relax. It'll take more than this to bring me down."

She took a long drink from the whiskey bottle.

Refusing to back off, Eben insisted, "That's no paper cut, Avery. You don't want it getting infected."

After a brief hesitation, she reached for the kit, fixing Eben with a serious look. "Alright, message received. You can get back to what you're doing. I'll handle it."

Still, Eben planted his feet and shook his head. "I'm not leaving until I see you treat that wound."

Even though she found his stubbornness frustrating, Avery respected his loyalty—there was no one else at the base she trusted more, their bond forged by years of facing adversity together.

Giving in, she stepped back and shut the door with a decisive click.

Alone, Avery stood before her reflection and slowly unbuttoned her shirt. The angry, fresh wound came into view. She dabbed disinfectant on the area without so much as a wince—she was no stranger to pain.

She had opened the gash further while showering, leaving the skin inflamed and tender.