Chapter 34
Snowflakes
Finished
I sat there at the terrace, my fingers tapping on the table in panic, worry blooming in my heart so intensely I could barely breathe. If anything happens to my brother, I will lose my sanity.
A murder? Never. That is the biggest stain anyone can put on the name Frost. We uphold the law, we do not break it, yet today I heard what I detest most. My own brother a suspect?
No. Kashi isn’t one of them. He shouldn’t even be on the list. The one who should be the prime suspect is him. Cupid Godlike. I know what I saw that night, and with him being brought to H.O.W.L. for interrogation, we might finally find the real culprit behind Mr. Hanba’s death.
Earlier, I had sent a message through Desmond for Cupid. We were supposed to meet here at Hant’s terrace for the charity–event discussion, and even though I brought the papers with me from home, I couldn’t calm myself about the ongoing case. It was getting bigger, louder, and heavier by the second.
I glanced at my wristwatch, wondering what was keeping him so long, but right at that moment I heard the hum of a motorcycle engine approaching.
My heart leaped. That same sound I heard when he arrived at F.A.A.R the other day. I walked quietly from the table toward the terrace rail, my hand gripping the metal as I looked down and saw what grace meant.
Cupid Godlike didn’t drive his car tonight.
He came on his motorcycle.
He alighted, pulling off his helmet, his hair falling in a way that was almost… breathtaking. For a moment, he paused as if inhaling, as if searching the air for my scent, then he slowly lifted his head and looked up, locking eyes with me.
Goosebumps erupted across my skin.
He walked into the restaurant, drawing stares from everyone, especially the women who openly gawked at him, then at his motorcycle.
Anger flared in my chest. Or perhaps jealousy. I wasn’t sure. My fingers clenched. But I pushed the feeling away. This was about Kashi. I was only angry because Cupid’s actions might implicate my brother.
I turned toward the entrance just as he appeared, helmet in hand, and I didn’t waste a second.
“Listen, I don’t know what you did to Mr. Hanba, but you need to go to H.O.W.L and explain
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Chapter 34
yourself before my brother is dragged in for some stupid interrogation p>
4G GD
9 Finished
It took audacity to say that to him. After my outburst, he didn’t react, not even a flinch. His green eyes simply regarded me with an unreadable expression.
“Good evening to you too,” he murmured softly, then walked past me and stepped onto the terrace, staring out at the night city.
His reaction snapped me back to my senses. I bit my lower lip.
Okay… maybe that wasn’t the best approach.
I turned toward him, watching his back. He was dressed in full leather, gloves, jacket, boots. Every inch of him screamed formidable. A classic criminal. A man too calm, too composed, one who did everything professionally.
“I… I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I actually came to talk about the charity–event schedule and p>
He turned abruptly, his eyes settling on me. Earlier he had no expression, but now… now he looked curious.
“Who is your brother?” he asked simply.
My heart stilled.
He didn’t… know?
“Kashi Frost,” I whispered. “At H.O.W.L, investigations are ongoing and he’s one of the suspects. They said an interrogation will happen soon, and if they find any evidence p>
“They won’t p>
He cut in, voice low, firm, absolute.
Our eyes met and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
He seemed so sure. And of course he was right. My brother was not capable of killing Mr. Hanba Billions. He wouldn’t be found guilty if he wasn’t the culprit. I shouldn’t have yelled at Cupid.
I sighed, lowering my gaze.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” I murmured again. “I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you. Let’s just go over the charity schedule and p>
I was still speaking when he stepped forward, forcing me to pause. He placed his helmet on the chair, then walked toward me, close, too close, his eyes searching mine as though I was
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Chapter 34
something precious he couldn’t stop staring at.
Finished
His hand rose to my check, cupping it tenderly. The contact sent my heart into a slow, heavy thud. His scent wrapped around me, clouding every thought.
He leaned in to kiss me.
My hand pressed softly against his chest at the last second, lowering my head to avoid the kiss.
“I’m… I’m married, Cupid,” I whispered, his name slipping from my lips like honey.
Silence.
He didn’t move. For a long, heart–stopping second, I dared to look up.
No expression.
And then in a sudden, unhesitant motion, he leaned in and kissed me anyway. This time with a force that spoke of claim, possession, declaration. His other hand gripped my waist, pulling me close.
My body trembled. My senses blurred.
How strange that I felt more at home in a stranger’s arms than in my own house.
I melted into him, my resistance dissolving as I surrendered, giving in.
He guided me toward the table and lifted me effortlessly onto it, as though I weighed nothing. He stepped between my parted legs, one hand cupping my neck, not too gentle, not too harsh and kissed me deeper. Full, consuming, as though he owned my lips.
I moaned helplessly, lost in the storm.
And then just when the heat peaked, just when my body burned and my hunger rose unbearably, he pulled back.
He stared at me, jaw tight, eyes fierce.
“You think I care about your marriage?” he asked, voice thick with possessiveness, anger, jealousy.
Before I could breathe or form a response, he grabbed his helmet and strode out of the terrace, leaving me stunned, breathless, and burning.
A man like him…
Definitely doesn’t care about anything that stands in his way of what he wants.
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Lucia Morh
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.