I never asked what Kyler did to build his empire.
Part of me didn't want to know.
But now… I needed to.
Not because I didn't trust him.
But because I loved him.
And love without truth is just another beautiful lie.
It was late.
The fire crackled in the hearth.
And I asked him, "What did you do to become the man you are?"
He looked up slowly.
His jaw clenched.
"I was twelve when I made my first kill," he said.
I didn't flinch.
He kept going.
"My mother died when I was nine. My father was the devil, dressed in wealth and wrath. When he was murdered, I inherited a world soaked in blood and betrayal."
He paused.
"I didn't choose this. But I didn't run from it either."
His voice broke.
"I became everything I feared. Because no one else would protect the people I loved."
"Do you… still love it?" I asked softly.
His eyes met mine.
"No. But I love you. And that means I have to protect what I've built. Because if I lose it… I lose everything."
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I walked through the halls of the safehouse, Kyler's words echoing in my mind.
What happens when love grows in soil watered by blood?
Can it still bloom?
And then I realized something:
Kyler didn't need saving from his world.
He needed someone to stay in it and remind him it could still be good.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of papers being burned in the fireplace.
I walked in quietly and saw Kyler feeding files into the flames.
"What are you doing?"
He turned to me. Ash on his hands.
"Cleaning up. Cutting ties. It's time I start becoming the man you think I am."
I felt my chest ache.
Not from pain.
From hope.
He pulled me close.
And whispered, "Stay with me. Through the war. Through the fall. Through everything."
"I already have," I said. "And I'm not going anywhere."