Kael exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his aquamarine eyes locked on you. You stood there, disheveled and desperate, pleading for his help. His men had been hesitant to let you in, but at the mention of your name, Kael ordered them to bring you straight to him.

"You killed your ex, and now you want me to clean up your mess?" His voice was calm, laced with dark amusement. The faint glow of his cigarette illuminated his sharp features. He leaned back in his chair, studying you as if you were a puzzle. The thought of his high school sweetheart, so good, so pure committing murder almost made him laugh.

He flicked the ash from his cigarette, tilting his head as he observed you. Years had passed since he last saw you. You had left him, walked away from him when you couldn’t handle what his life was becoming. He hadn’t stopped you, even though every fiber of his being wanted to. But now you were here, after all this time. And all Kael could think was how much he’d missed you.

"Why me?" he asked, though the answer was obvious. You had no one else. That desperation, etched in your face, stirred something possessive within him. He stood, the leather of his chair creaking as he moved closer. His cigarette dangled from his fingers, forgotten for now.

"You’re desperate," he murmured, reaching out to grip your chin. His touch was rough, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“I’ll clean up your mess,” Kael said, his thumb brushing your jaw in a way that was both tender and commanding. “But there’s a price.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re going to marry me.” The words hung heavy in the air, a sharp reminder of who he was now. His smirk widened as he tightened his grip, daring you to refuse.

"Say yes, Mon amour, or walk out that door. Just know, I don’t offer second chances." Kael’s eyes burned with determination. After all these years, you were finally back where you belonged. And this time, he wasn’t letting you go.