Poison Rose of Avalon

Kevin, who had been standing behind Ronnie, had overheard the entire conversation. He was shaken as Ronnie, but he did not lose his composure. Unlike Ronnie's trembling form, Kevin's mind quickly calculated their given situation. If they were demons, Caspian was the devil himself, a relentless, vengeful force.

Kevin placed a firm hand on Ronnie's shoulder, surprising him. His voice was low and serious. "If we're doomed, let's drag Caspian down with us."

Ronnie turned to him, wide-eyed, the terror still lingering in his gaze.

Kevin's eyes darted toward the tent's entrance, his expression hardening. "Let's finish what we started," he continued. "He will come for us, Ronnie. So, let's make it more painful for him. That girl is his, right? Then let's destroy her. Let's take everything from him, piece by piece, like he's threatening to do to us."

Unlike Andreas and Hanuel, he and Ronnie had not even touched her yet, and still, they would pay the price because of her. The equation did not sit right with Kevin. If Caspian was going to make them suffer, it had better be worth it. And Caspian's Doll will make it worth it.

Caspian was a psycho, and ever since he was little, his mind had operated differently, more violently than others his age. He had a ruthless side that scared everyone around him, even his friends and parents.

One time, in a fit of rage over a simple mistake, when a maid accidentally added a tomato to his salad, he meted out a brutal punishment. The poor woman paid dearly, losing her voice and teeth for what was deemed an unforgivable error.

Each of Kevin's words rang true in Ronnie's ears. The fear that had wrapped around him didn't completely fade, but Kevin's logic was undeniable. If they left Liora alone now, Caspian would still come for them. He would fulfil every single promise he had made. 

"Yeah," Ronnie said, his voice unsteady. "Let's make them both suffer."

The two exchanged a grim look, their pact sealed. They would face the devil's wrath, but not without leaving their mark.

Kevin and Ronnie turned on their heels, ready to march back into the tent to carry out their twisted plan.

However, before they could take a single step, Logan and Kai appeared out of nowhere. Logan's hand clamped around Kevin's neck while Kai grabbed Ronnie with a force that could crush bone. The force was so powerful that neither Kevin nor Ronnie stood a chance. Within seconds, the two crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Hanuel and Andreas turned toward the entrance, alerted by the heavy footsteps. Donovan strode in with a commanding presence like a thunderstorm. His sharp eyes instantly locked on Liora.

She lay pinned to the mattress, her arms restrained by Andreas while Hanuel knelt between her legs. Her dishevelled state, her bruised ankles, face, and lips and the helpless defiance in her eyes were a tableau that ignited a wave of unbridled rage within Donovan.

His fists clenched at his sides, the veins in his arms taut and became visible beneath his skin. His usually composed grey eyes darkened, churning into an abyss of black fury. That darkness swirled, seething and alive, threatening to consume not just him but everything in its path, including Hanuel and Andreas.

Donovan didn't need to speak yet. His silence, laced with the impending storm, was more terrifying than any shouted threat.

One more second of delay, Donovan would unleash a fury that neither man could withstand. It was the same look, the same intensity they saw on the rainy day.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Andreas spat, letting go of Liora's wrists. Her arms fell limp at her sides, red and bruised from his grip, and Andreas walked toward Donovan only to be knocked out with his one forceful punch.

Liora's cold, challenging glare had never wavered until everything shifted when her eyes fell on Donovan as he entered. Relief washed over her, and her carefully guarded composure crumbled as tears welled up. They weren't from the pain this time; they were from the overwhelming emotions, just like before, he was here.

Like a miracle, he had come to save her. Heaven heard her prayers and Donovan, her silent cry.

Donovan took one calculated step toward Hanuel, his dark gaze locked on the man like a shark circling its target. Hanuel met his gaze unflinching, a twisted grin of protest on his face. As if to provoke Donovan further, Hanuel's hand slid deliberately from Liora's knee upward, sliding her dress.

Before Donovan could act, Kai moved with lightning speed, closing the distance in a blur. He intercepted Hanuel, gripping his wrist just as it inched higher.

With a sharp twist, Kai snapped the wrist, the sickening crack echoing in the tense silence. Hanuel let out a guttural scream of pain, but Kai didn't stop. He grabbed Hanuel by the collar and landed a brutal punch squarely to his jaw. Hanuel's head snapped back, and his body slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Kai kept his attention fixed on Donovan, gauging his reaction. Donovan's gaze was still locked on Hanuel's crumpled form, his breathing heavy and his fists trembling.

Kai could see the flicker of red in Donovan's eyes, a sign that the rage hadn't completely subsided. Acting fast had been the right call, Kai thought. Donovan had been only seconds away from doing something far more deadly.

Liora coughed, and Donovan's attention shifted. His eyes softened the moment they landed on Liora. She was trembling slightly, her wrists red and bruised, her face pale, but her eyes wide and full of relief as they met his.

Donovan crossed the distance to her in three swift strides and knelt beside her. His movements, usually calculated and firm, were uncharacteristically gentle as he brushed her hair away from her face, revealing the flushed skin beneath.

His thumb grazed her cheek, the cold touch of his fingers against her overheated skin sending a shiver through her trembling body. She didn't speak, didn't even flinch. Her wide, doe-like eyes stayed locked on his, vacant yet intense.

He reached for her wrist, his fingers carefully finding her pulse and reading it. "Are you okay?" his voice dripped with concern.

"What took you so long?" Her voice cracked, frustration etched into the lines of her brow.

Her words struck him harder, like an arrow piercing his heart. A shadow of guilt flickered across his face before he smoothed it away, his expression returning to a calm mask.

"I'm asking myself the same," he murmured, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. He dabbed away her tears, his gaze never leaving hers.

Nearby, Kai dragged Hanuel across the tent to where Andreas lay unconscious. With a grunt, he hefted both men onto his shoulders, their bodies hanging like sacks of grain, and he left.

Donovan's attention remained fixed on Liora. A minute of silence passed as they lost in each other before Donovan noticed something shifting in her doe-like eyes. Her wide eyes, glossy with unshed tears, narrowed. Her trembling hands moved, weakly pushing against his chest.

"You can go now," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The slight movement made her wince, the pain clear in her sharp intake of breath.

Donovan, confused, tilted his head slightly. "You need medical attention," he said softly.

"Why?" she countered, her tone slightly sharp despite her exhaustion.

His lips parted, but no immediate answer came. "You are severely injured," Donovan said in concern as he took her in her battered state. 

"Why are you not leaving?" Her voice cracked, the frustration bleeding through. "Th....that day.... you left me....you left me in the rain..... You can ask the medics to come and take me. I am safe now."

Her words hit like a slap, but Donovan didn't waver. Instead, his jaw tightened, and he exhaled slowly. His hands cradled her as if she might break.

"Liora—"

"You rich kids… you're all the same. You don't care. You do what you want and leave when it suits you." she snapped, interrupting him, her frail hands pressing against his chest again. Her body shook from the effort, her strength nearly gone, but her determination burned brighter.

Her fists, weak but persistent, pounded against his chest. Donovan took every hit, his arms never loosening their hold on her.

"Why won't you leave?" she demanded softly, her voice fading. She inhaled deeply, and her exhaustion started to overwhelm her.

Donovan's gaze softened, and the air between them stilled for a moment.

"Let me take responsibility for my past mistakes," he said quietly. He shifted, carefully sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her effortlessly.

Liora gasped as she leaned against his chest. His warmth, his hold—it all felt achingly comforting.

"I deserve this," he continued, his eyes reflecting the weight of his guilt. "Hit me all you want. I won't blame you."

Liora shot him a heated glare. She rolled her eyes dramatically and pouted.

"One day, I'll be stronger than you. And when that day comes, you won't be able to handle me so easily."

A small, unconscious smile tugged at Donovan's lips despite the moment's gravity. Her words weren't a threat but a promise.

He looked down at her, although he wanted to keep his face straight. His smile wouldn't vanish, hearing Liora challenge him cutely.

He was not looking down on her but on her fragile body, but he liked her confidence.

"I'm looking forward to it."

Kai and Logan trudged toward the parking lot, their steps slightly uneven as they each carried two unconscious men slung over their shoulders like sacks of grain. Sweat trickled down their foreheads, and grunts escaped their lips while they watched Donovan stroll past them effortlessly, cradling Liora in his arms. The weight didn't bother them as much as their bruised egos.

Kai shot a sideways glance at Logan, his expression twisted in mock indignation. "You know, it's always him," he grumbled, jerking his chin in the direction of Donovan, who was walking ahead with Liora protectively in his arms. "How does he get all the romantic moments? I mean, this is getting ridiculous."

Logan adjusted the guy slumped over his shoulder, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Tell me about it. Here we are, hauling dead weight, and he's off playing knight in shining armour."

Kai rolled his eyes dramatically. "I demand a rewrite of this story."

Soon, they approached the parking lot, where a sleek black SUV idled. A chauffeur in a crisp white suit stood by the open trunk, waiting patiently. Kai and Logan unceremoniously dumped the four unconscious men into the trunk, dusting off their hands as if they'd just finished a mundane chore.

As the chauffeur closed the trunk with a soft thud, Kai and Logan headed toward their Ducati Panigale V4 R. Kai swung his leg over the bike, revving the engine while Logan climbed on his.

"Race you to the hospital?" Logan challenged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Kai scoffed. "I don't lose."

Kai had contacted their assistant, Mr. Sohn, to get the car and bike ready before making their way to Liora's tent in the sprawling campus grove, which felt frustratingly distant, especially without knowing exactly where her tent was located.

Meanwhile, Donovan sat in the back seat of the SUV, holding Liora close. She had fallen asleep against him, exhaustion overtaking her shortly after their charming, heated exchange.

He hadn't placed her on the other seat, nor had he even considered it. Instead, he let her rest against his chest, her fragile frame rising and falling with each soft breath.

The chauffeur approached the car, peering through the open door. "Sir, shall I move the miss to the other side of the seat?"

Donovan's gaze shifted to the man briefly, his voice calm but firm. "No. It's fine. Take us to Triad Hospital."

With a nod, the chauffeur closed the door and returned to the driver's seat. The engine hummed before they began.

Donovan adjusted his hold on Liora, pulling her closer without realizing it. The warmth of her body seeped through his clothes and blended with the delicate floral notes of her perfume. It was subtle yet intoxicating, wrapping around him like a soothing balm for his frayed nerves.

Minutes ago, he had been ready to kill those four men without hesitation. The darkness inside him had clawed its way to the surface, but with Liora in his arms, that raging storm had quieted as if it never existed.

She became a captivating mystery for him. He glanced down at her peaceful posture. Although they hardly knew one another, she had an uncanny way of grounding him effortlessly, without even trying, just like the memory of the last rain when he had been burning from the inside, consumed by pain he couldn't shake. Her touch had made it all disappear in an instant, like she'd carried the storm away with her.

Why do their paths continue to intersect despite his efforts to keep his distance? What is it about her that pulls at the corners of his memory like a familiar melody?

*****

Glacier's Mansion

"Sir, the team reported that the phone call was intercepted, and..... the heirs of the Triad Wolfen group intervened, taking those four and Liora away," Robert said, his voice steady but tinged with nervousness as he relayed the update.

"Triad group?" he exclaimed, his voice sharp with disbelief as his eyes narrowed dangerously. A shadow crossed his face, old wounds rising to the surface like a tide that refused to recede. His jaw tightened,

"It seems," he muttered, his tone colder now, "that The Magnums need a reminder of the past."

The Chairman settled back in his grand leather chair, gazing at the painting adorning the wall while calculating. He brought his hands together in front of him before calmly issuing his command,

"Robert," he said after a moment of heavy silence, his tone clipped, "send Amara to her next two assignments immediately. Make sure Officer Park is outside the city for 15 days. And.....Let Amara know I will personally pick up Liora from the trip."

The PA nodded, scribbling down notes on his tablet. An empathy for Liroa intensified within him. It struck him that if the Chairman had taken action sooner, he could have prevented any harm from befalling her at the hands of those four individuals.

Would he ever grasp the true intentions behind the Chairman's strategy? Robert questioned himself. It was evident that the Chairman harboured concern for Liora, yet he permitted her to endure significant distress caused by the actions of those four young men.

"And one more thing," the Chairman added, his voice dropping an octave, making Robert snap out of his thoughts. "Ensure Caspian does not leave the USA. Not under any circumstances."

Robert froze for a moment as though he had just been awakened by a sudden slap, his thoughts scattering like startled birds. It took a while before the Chairman's words sank in. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, hesitant to voice his thoughts. Yet, he mustered up courage and spoke carefully.

"Sir, Master Caspian may resent you for this decision."

The Chairman's lips curled into a faint, mirthless smile as his gaze shifted to a framed painting of Caspian on the wall behind his desk. The image showed a younger Caspian, his eyes alight with a spark of defiance even then.

"Let him," the Chairman said, his voice calm but resolute. "That resentment will serve as fuel. The burning desire to see Liora and to be with her will drive him forward. It will compel him to meet the conditions I've laid out."

His hand moved to straighten the cuff of his sleeve, a deliberate gesture of control. "This incident, as unfortunate as it may seem, is precisely what will push him to become who he needs to be. So, Robert... let him."