Chapter 8

I took the hot coffee and met his curious gaze with a smile.

"Since it's a game, I have to go to places I don't usually visit," I took a sip, my tone light. "Otherwise, it wouldn't be hide-and-seek, would it?"

Killian chuckled and pinched my cheek. "You're so bad. But you're destined to lose to me, baby."

I lowered my eyes, hiding the frost within them.

Of course I couldn't win the first two days.

Because the real show was on the last day.

Day Three.

The day of our five-year anniversary.

The manor was decorated like a dream. Thousands of red roses paved a path from the garden all the way to the master bedroom.

I didn't leave the house.

I locked myself in the study and walked over to the massive stone fireplace.

One piece, two pieces, three pieces...

The blood-stained bandage he wrote his vows on ten years ago, right after taking a knife for me;

The black diamond insignia representing the Donna's absolute power, given to me when he introduced me to the underworld five years ago;

The custom wedding bands engraved with our initials, which he valued more than his life...

I threw ten years of memories, ten years of bonds, into the fire pit without a second thought.

I struck a match and dropped it in.

The flames instantly swallowed the bloody vows and priceless tokens.

I just stood there, watching my pathetic past burn to ash.

In the afternoon, Killian pushed the study door open excitedly.

He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, holding a velvet jewelry box. He radiated the pride of a guaranteed winner.

"It's day three, Aria." He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. "You haven't even stepped out of the manor. Looks like I won this game."

I pushed his hands away, my voice incredibly faint. "The day isn't over. I haven't hidden yet."

Killian paused. Just as he was about to speak, his private phone vibrated.

He took it out and glanced at the screen.

In that split second, his expression changed.

I knew it was Tessa.

Because she had posted a picture of herself in sexy lingerie that morning with the caption: Waiting for you.

This devoted husband—the man who was supposed to be celebrating our fifth anniversary—stared at his screen for a full minute.

Finally, lust conquered reason.

"Baby," he quickly put his phone away, making up a rushed excuse. "A gang war broke out in the South Side. Someone died. I have to go handle it personally."

"Go ahead." I turned around and thoughtfully straightened his tie. "I'll hide well. Come find me."

"Good girl. When I get back, I'll put this gift on you." He kissed my forehead hurriedly, turned around, and strode out of the study.

Watching his eager back, the last trace of warmth in my eyes died forever.

The moment he walked out the front gates...

I left through the manor's secret tunnel, heading straight for the deepest black-market clinic in Chicago.

On the cold operating table, the surgical lights blinded me.

"I'll confirm this one last time," the underground doctor raised his scalpel. "I'm digging this chip out without anesthesia. It's going to be absolute hell. And once I break and rebuild your jaw, you will never look the same."

"Do it."

I closed my eyes.

My phone screen lit up one last time next to the operating table.

A text from Tessa.

[Aria, happy fifth anniversary. But your Don is pinning me down right now. You lose.]

I smiled faintly. I didn't even take a second look.

The scalpel sliced my skin.

Agonizing pain. But I didn't scream.

Because every cut was carving the devil's filthy mark out of my flesh.

At 9:00 PM, I woke up in agony.

My head and face were wrapped in thick bandages. Every slight movement felt like my bones were being crushed.

But I refused the doctor's request to stay overnight.

I forced myself up and grabbed the fake passport I had prepared.

When I walked out of the clinic, Chicago's night wind was biting cold, but I felt freer than I ever had in my life.

I took out the old phone—which hadn't been destroyed yet—and sent Killian one final text.

[You can come find me now.]

After sending it, I got into an untraceable car heading to the international airport.

Half an hour passed. An hour passed.

The phone was dead silent.

I knew he was probably still sweating on top of Tessa, too busy to check my "game" text.

Until I stepped onto the VIP tarmac.

Until the exact moment I was about to board the plane.

The dead phone suddenly went insane. It vibrated violently!

On the screen, Killian's messages flooded in like a waterfall.

At first, they still carried the arrogant smugness of a man satisfied from sex.

[Baby, I handled the business. I'm coming to catch you.]

[You hid pretty far. Why is your signal so weak?]

Then, the tone shifted. There was a trace of confusion.

[Aria? Why isn't your dot moving?]

[Why is your tracker in a dumpster downtown?!]

By the end, the texts descended into absolute shock and pure, unadulterated terror.

[ARIA!! WHAT DID YOU DO?!]

[The signal is gone! This is impossible!! What did you do to the chip?!]

[PICK UP THE PHONE!! ARIA!! PICK UP!!!]

[WHERE ARE YOU?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!!!]

[????!!!]

Staring at the desperate, frantic messages practically screaming through the screen, I could picture exactly how terrified and broken the untouchable Don of Chicago was in this exact moment.

Standing on the boarding stairs, looking out at the glittering skyline of Chicago, I smiled lightly.

I pulled the SIM card out of the phone and casually tossed it into a nearby trash can.

Then, I walked into the cabin.

And I never looked back.