Poison Rose of Avalon

*I genuinely apologize, dear readers. I missed to upload this chapter before the Nickname Debate.*

The sun bore down on the California beach, the air shimmering with heat and quiet indulgence. Caspian Glacier lay sprawled on the ivory sand, his bronzed skin soaking up the sun as if it owed him something. He had his hands locked behind his head, his posture dripping with that unbothered arrogance money tends to breed. Beside him, James Anderson, his partner in calculated chaos, mirrored his pose, the two of them a living portrait of excess and entitlement.

The beach wasn't just private—it was untouched. Five attendants hovered near the edges like shadows, their heads bowed, their presence invisible unless summoned. Caspian liked it that way: control disguised as benevolence.

From the waves emerged a woman—a disruption, deliberate and dazzling.

Pearl Sinclair.

She moved through the water like it had been designed for her, every step deliberate, every glance a promise she didn't have to keep. The Versace bikini clung to her as though she'd been poured into it. Deep blue fabric with golden accents carved her body into a masterpiece of excess: tanned skin, sculpted curves, and lips painted the kind of pink that whispered "danger" more than innocence.

James was the first to react, his sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he muttered, "Showtime."

Caspian didn't speak. He didn't have to. His smirk—small, sharp, lethal—said everything.

Pearl sauntered over, her hips swaying like a pendulum set to hypnotize. She dropped her towel between them, not waiting for an invitation because she didn't need one.

"Why don't you just settle here, Cas?" she asked, stretching out like a cat. Her voice was honeyed but edged as though daring him to give her a reason to stay angry. "You seem to like it well enough."

James chuckled; his grin was wolfish. "You'd miss Cas too much, Pearl. Admit it—you can't survive without your chaos fix."

Pearl slapped his arm, laughing in that soft, almost rehearsed way she did when she wanted to keep the attention on her. "Chaos? I'm practically a saint compared to you two."

Caspian shifted, leaning on his elbow to face her. His gaze was molten, slow-moving, and unyielding.

"Italy suits me better," he said, his voice like silk soaked in venom. "Maybe you and James should consider coming to me instead. Imagine the possibilities—beaches, food, wine, me and romance."

Pearl rolled onto her side, her hand brushing against his chest as she leaned in close. "Italy," she repeated, her lips curling into a smirk. "It does have its temptations."

Her lips met Caspian, soft and teasing, her lips skimming over his in a way that wasn't a request—it was a declaration. James, not one to be outdone, leaned in and kissed the curve of her neck, his hands tracing her curves.

Pearl tilted her head toward James, her breath catching just enough to show that she wasn't entirely in control. Their mouths met, slow and deliberate, a show of ownership disguised as desire.

Caspian let it happen. He leaned back, watching with a faint smile. When he finally raised a hand to dismiss the attendants, it was more like a king granting mercy than a man asking for privacy.

"Leave us," he said, his voice carrying the weight of a command that wasn't meant to be questioned.

When the last attendant disappeared over the dunes, Caspian turned back to Pearl, his grin sharper now. "So, where were we?"

Pearl laughed softly, but her gaze darted between them. She felt the pull—unavoidable and dangerous, like standing too close to a flame you couldn't resist touching. The three of them had their fun to their heart's content.

Two hours later, Caspian typed a quick message: Food and cocktails to the beach.

His gaze flicked to Pearl, who was lounging, her drink in hand and her demeanour effortlessly seductive. She looked every bit the girl who'd been born into power but hadn't realized how far she'd fallen under someone else's thumb, under Caspian's thumb.

"You'll miss me when I'm gone," Caspian said casually, lifting his drink. "James, think you can keep her in check while I'm back in Italy?"

James smirked, leaning back. "Please. She won't even notice you're gone."

Pearl's head snapped toward Caspian, her eyes narrowing. "Don't flatter yourself, Glacier. Just because you're leaving doesn't mean I won't know what you're up to," she said, her voice cutting through the languid heat."Caspian, You better keep the Italy Bitches away. Or I'll do it for you. Don't forget who my grandfather is."

Caspian laughed, a low, rumbling sound that matched the rhythm of the waves. "That's what I adore about you, Pearl. You're the fiercest tigress. And trust me, I'd hate to be the reason for starting a war. But don't mistake my patience for weakness."

Pearl Sinclair had the kind of pedigree that turned heads in every room she entered. Granddaughter to the chairman of staff and a crucial advisor to the highest offices in the nation, her presence carried an air of inherited authority. Yet beneath the polished veneer of privilege was a restless soul, irresistibly attracted to danger like a moth drawn to light.

James Anderson, the son of a tech tycoon whose multinational empire ruled global markets, had millions of data at his fingertips. His exceptional talent made him both an invaluable asset and a potential threat in the fast-paced world of high-stakes intelligence.

And then there was Caspian Glacier. The orchestrator, never the pawn. Piece by piece, he dismantled their walls, earning their trust with charm so lethal they never saw the strings tightening around them. Pearl and James his assignment given by his grandfather.

Caspian set his cocktail down and turned to Pearl, who always managed to find her spot between James and himself. He leaned in closer, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. His smile was soft, his words anything but.

"Do whatever you want to them, babe. Slash their faces, poison their drinks, and turn their lives into nightmares. You know I'd never stop you."

Caspian hand trailed down her jaw, settling under her chin as his eyes darkened. "But hear this well, the second you step over the line and touch what's mine..." His voice dropped, and his hand lingered just below her chin. "You'll wish you hadn't."

Pearl's lips parted, but words failed her as she gazed at Caspian in bewilderment. 'Not to touch what's his?' she thought, struggling to grasp the meaning behind Caspian's veiled words. The beach was silent except for the crash of the waves.

Pearl climbed onto Caspian's lap, her movements deliberate, balancing her cocktail in one hand. She tilted her head, her voice softer now, almost trembling. "Am I not yours?"

That's how Caspian liked her: jealous, unpredictable, and utterly his. He'd learned early on how to stoke the flames of her possessiveness. A whispered rumour here, a flirtatious glance there, and she'd spiral. Sometimes, he'd nudge James into the spotlight, letting other women gravitate toward him just to watch Pearl unravel. The angrier she got, the deeper she spiralled into the chaos he'd created.

Caspian's finger traced the line of her neck, lingering before sliding down to her navel, where his touch paused, light but commanding.

His lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. "You? Belong to me? No, my tigress." He leaned in, brushing his lips against her ear. "I want you to be free. Fly wherever you want."

He let the words hang, his tongue teasing the shell of her ear before he whispered, "Just remember—come back to us when you're done."

Pearl shivered, her cocktail trembling slightly in her hand. Her breath hitched, her vulnerability breaking through the bravado she always wore like armour.

"But I don't want freedom," she whispered. "I want to belong. To you. To James."

Caspian stilled, his gaze locking onto hers with a heat that left no room for misunderstanding. He leaned in again, his lips brushing hers lightly before trailing down to the curve of her jaw, then lower, along the line of her throat. His hand slid up her back, pressing her closer against him. As his mouth reached her ear, his voice dropped to a near-growl.

"Is that what you truly want, Pearl?"

His tongue flicked against her earlobe, drawing her to gasp for breath. He nibbled gently, his teeth grazing her skin before soothing it with a kiss, each movement slow and possessive.

Forgotten, her cocktail slipped from her fingers as her arms wrapped around his neck. "Yes," the single word heavy with longing left her lips.

Caspian's laughter was soft, dark, and full of promises he had no intention of keeping. The servants, trained to anticipate without needing instructions, disappeared from sight, leaving the three of them alone under the sinking sun.

*************

Avalon

Liora adored her sky-blue dress as she prepared for her birthday outing with her mom and Dane. It was a momentous occasion—her sweet 16th birthday.

"Mama, how do I look?" Liora asked, standing before the tall mirror hanging on the wall. Her fingers lightly grazed the delicate chiffon fabric of her dress, a gift from Caspian. Though she normally shied away from cameras, today was an exception—just this once, for him.

Amara cast a warm, motherly glance at her daughter, the vibrant sky-blue chiffon dress highlighting Liora's natural beauty.

The fitted waistline elegantly transitioned into a softly flaring skirt, its long sleeves adding an air of grace. The ensemble was completed with blue stone stud earrings, a sleek pendant, and neutral strappy heels.

"You're stunningly beautiful, Ora!" Amara said, her voice full of admiration.

A shy smile began to form at the corners of Liora's lips. Her mother's words filled her with quiet joy.

The drive to the French restaurant was filled with soft conversation and lighthearted laughter. As they arrived, Liora's gaze landed on a figure standing outside, holding a bouquet of multicoloured roses.

Looking sharp but slightly nervous, Daran shifted his weight from one foot to the other. She enthusiastically waved as she stepped out of the car.

Amara and Dane exchanged a quick, knowing glance.

"Happy birthday, Babe!" Daran instinctively called her "babe" in front of her family without realising as he walked up, presenting the bouquet with a warm smile.

Liora's cheeks flushed as she accepted the flowers with a grateful smile. "Thank you, baby," she replied softly.

The soft exchange felt like a private moment between them, but with the sudden sound of someone choking violently, Liora's head turned sharply toward the source.

Amara coughed violently, fumbling for a napkin, her eyes wide with shock. Dane jumped up, patting her back.

"Are you alright, Amara?" Dane asked concern etched on his face.

"Mom!" Liora exclaimed, taking a step toward her.

Amara finally caught her breath, but her gaze darted between Liora and Daran. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her thoughts were written all over her face: Did I just hear her call him... baby?

Dane straightened, frowning as he studied the awkward boy beside Liora. His protective instincts flared. Who is this guy?

Daran tried to keep his composure, the corners of his mouth twitching nervously. 'What have I done?' he lamented, berating himself for the prank—a year-long charade that had finally spiralled out of control.

Dane and Amara misinterpreted Daran as Liora's boyfriend, and this misunderstanding lingered. Even after Liora discovered the truth a few months later, she chose not to correct either Amara or Dane. She wasn't ready to share the news about Caspian just yet—she wanted to wait until he returned.

It was a sunny afternoon; the sun hung very high. Liora leaned casually against the school gate, her phone pressed to her ear. Her lips moved in animated conversation, but her sharp gaze scanned the crowd with purpose.

And then she saw him—walking toward the bus stop, his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder.

Without hesitation, her voice rang out, clear and loud, slicing through the chatter around her. "Baby!"

A wave of murmurs rippled through the courtyard. Heads turned, eyes wide, but Liora remained unfazed. She was, after all, the only one bold enough to yell "baby" without flinching.

Daran froze mid-step. His cheeks flushed a light pink whenever Liroa called out baby loud in front of all. He turned, making his way back toward her.

"What now, babe? Did you forget something?"

She unzipped her bag, pulling out a neatly wrapped dinner box. Her grin was effortless, teasing.

"Here. Mama made this for you. Ever since my birthday, she's been on cloud nine about you. I'm still not sure what magic trick you pulled."

Daran smirked, shaking his head as he took the box. "I'm just as confused as you are, but hey—tell her thanks."

Liora waved it off like it was no big deal. "Bye, baby! See you tomorrow!"

"See ja, babe!" he called back with a laugh, his steps light as he walked away.

Liora returned her attention to her phone, her tone casual as she picked up the conversation. "Sorry, Caspian. Had to give Daran something from Mama."

"Did you just call that thing baby?" There was a moment of pause followed by a profound silence. Then his tone dropped further, darkening."In front of the entire school?"