Chapter Five: The Cold One

They said silence could be comforting.

Whoever they were clearly never sat in a room with Kai Moretti.

He didn’t speak right away. Just stared at me across the long, dark oak table like I was a problem he couldn’t wait to dissect. No warmth. No recognition. Just ice.

I shifted in my seat, the wooden chair creaking beneath me, but he didn’t flinch. Not once.

We were alone in some kind of private study tucked away from the rest of the estate. No guards. No Jace throwing out sarcastic remarks. No Nik to soften the blows with diplomacy. No Enzo, thank God, playing games with that cryptic smile of his.

Just me.

And Kai.

“You tried to escape,” he said finally, voice flat.

I didn’t answer.

Not because I didn’t have something to say—but because I couldn’t figure out if saying it would get me killed, humiliated, or dragged through another forest at midnight.

“Twice,” he added.

Ah. So we were counting now.

I crossed my arms. “Don’t act like you didn’t expect it.”

“I did,” he replied.

Of course he did.

Kai expected everything. That was what made him dangerous. He didn’t guess. He knew. Always two steps ahead, eyes scanning for weaknesses like a predator in a tailored suit.

“I’m not here to beg,” I said.

“Good.” He tilted his head slightly. “Because begging never works.”

I swallowed.

I wasn’t afraid of Kai, exactly. Not in the scream-and-run-for-your-life way. But being in a room with him felt like standing on a frozen lake and hearing the ice crack beneath you… slowly. A warning. A promise.

He stood and walked over to the liquor cabinet against the wall, pouring himself a glass of something amber.

“I don’t drink,” I muttered, even though he hadn’t offered.

“Neither do I,” he replied, taking a slow sip anyway.

I frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“Most things don’t,” he said, turning back to me. “But we do them anyway.”

He returned to the chair across from me and sat, placing the glass down but not drinking from it again. Just letting the scent of it hang in the air like a weapon.

Then he folded his hands and stared directly into my eyes.

“Tell me what you remember about the woman in the photograph.”

I blinked. “No warm-up?”

“I’m not Nik.”

Yeah. I got that loud and clear.

“I don’t remember anything,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. “I told you. The photo was old, and the face was—”

“Scratched out. Convenient.”

My eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I did it?”

“I’m saying someone did. And your father left it behind for you to find.”

I didn’t respond. I was still trying to process the note I found under my pillow last night.

She’s not dead. Don’t trust them.

I hadn’t told anyone about it. Not yet. Part of me wasn’t even sure if it had been real. There was no signature, no fingerprints, no indication of who it was from. Just that haunting message.

But Kai didn’t need to know that.

Not yet.

“What exactly do you think I’m hiding?” I asked.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Not what. Who.”

His voice sent a chill through me.

I looked away, jaw tight. “I don’t know her.”

“You said that already.”

“Then why are we still here?”

Kai didn’t answer right away. He studied me like he was trying to catch a flicker in my expression—some micro movement that might betray me.

“You want to know what I think?” he said finally.

“No,” I replied.

He ignored that.

“I think your father took something. Something valuable. Something he didn’t want the rest of us to find. And I think he gave it to you.”

I laughed. “If he did, I must’ve lost it somewhere between my student loan bills and the microwave dinners I lived on for three years.”

His gaze darkened. “Don’t mock me, Aurora.”

That was the first time he’d said my name out loud.

It felt like a razor cutting through the tension in the room.

I sat up straighter. “Then stop treating me like I’m some puzzle to be solved. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t even know about your world until you dragged me into it.”

His eyes flickered for just a second—like something inside him shifted.

Then it was gone.

Kai stood.

“Come with me.”

“No.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

He turned and walked to the door, expecting me to follow. I hesitated for exactly three seconds before realizing sitting alone in this room would probably be worse.

I followed him.

We moved through quiet halls I hadn’t seen before. The farther we went, the darker and colder the house seemed. Less lived-in. More… forgotten.

Finally, he stopped in front of a steel door with a keypad.

He punched in a code.

The lock clicked.

Inside was a small room. Minimal furniture. No windows. Just a single light above a large corkboard.

Dozens of photos covered it.

My breath caught in my throat.

“Sit,” Kai said.

I didn’t.

I walked to the board and scanned the images.

Photos of my father. Surveillance shots. Ones from years ago—and some from last week.

And there, near the center… was her.

The same woman from the photo in the box.

Only this time, her face wasn’t scratched out.

She was stunning. Dark hair, sharp cheekbones, eyes that didn’t quite smile even when her lips did. And familiar. So familiar.

“Who is she?” I whispered.

Kai stepped beside me. “You tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” I said, but it sounded like a lie even to my own ears.

He tapped the corner of one photo.

It was her. Standing next to me.

Me.

Same haircut. Same denim jacket I used to wear in high school. A time stamp in the corner read six years ago.

“I don’t— I don’t remember this,” I said, panic rising in my throat.

“You were fifteen,” he said. “At a music festival in Chicago. Your father claimed he lost you for two hours. This woman was seen with you.”

I shook my head. “I don’t remember any of this.”

“Then start trying.”

Kai turned to me, and for the first time, there was something in his expression that wasn’t icy or indifferent. It was... wary. Like he didn’t want to believe I was lying—but would do what he had to if I was.

“Why are you showing me this now?” I asked.

He hesitated.

Then he said, “Because she’s not dead.”

My heart dropped.

“Who told you that?”

Kai didn’t answer.

“Who is she?” I demanded.

He walked back to the door.

“I thought you might remember her today. You didn’t. So now we wait.”

I moved to stop him. “Wait for what?”

He opened the door and looked at me over his shoulder.

“For her to come back.”

And then he was gone.

That night, I dreamed of her.

Only… it wasn’t a dream.

I woke up to her voice in my room—

Whispering my name like a warning:

“Rory… they lied to you.”