Page 67 of Daddy's Christmas Obsession
"You mean you're going to kill him." It's not a question.
"I mean I'm going to ensure that our privacy is protected," I say carefully. "That our future together isn't threatened by someone who can't accept that he lost."
The footsteps on the stairs are getting closer. Patrick and his team, coming to handle the situation with their usual professional thoroughness. In a few minutes, this will all be over, and Kyra and I can continue with our Christmas Eve celebration.
But she's looking at me with an expression I can't quite read, and I realize this might be the moment that defines everything between us. The moment where she truly understands what choosing me means.
"The men outside," I say quietly, "they've been with me for years. They're very good at making problems disappear completely. No trace, no questions, no complications. Just... gone."
"Like he never existed," she whispers.
"Exactly like he never existed."
Aaron is pressed against the far wall now, his face gray with terror. He understands exactly what's being discussed, exactly what his fate will be if I give the word.
"But," I continue, moving closer to Kyra, "you're going to be my wife. My partner in everything. So perhaps... perhaps this should be your decision."
The words surprise even me as I say them, but they feel right. She needs to understand the weight of the world she's entering, needs to make a conscious choice about who she wants to be.
"My decision?" she repeats.
"Your decision," I confirm. "He's your ex-boyfriend, after all. The man who broke your heart and threw you away. So you tell me, sweetheart—does he disappear permanently, or do we find another solution?"
The silence that follows is deafening. Aaron's ragged breathing, the sound of men moving around outside, the distant hum of vehicles idling in the snow—all of it fades into background noise as I wait for her answer.
This is the moment. The choice that will define not just Aaron's fate, but who Kyra truly is. Who she's willing to become for me.
The ring on her finger catches the light as her hand trembles slightly. She looks at Aaron, pressed against the wall in terror. Then at me, waiting with predatory patience for her decision.
And in that moment, I see something shift in her expression. Something cold and calculating that I've never seen before but recognize immediately because I see it in the mirror every day.
She's learning. Evolution in real time.
"I need a minute to think," she says finally.
"Of course," I say with satisfaction. "Take all the time you need, sweetheart. Patrick can wait."
But we both know the truth. The decision has already been made. Now she just needs to figure out what she can live with.
What she's willing to become for love.
Chapter twenty
Kyra
The rope around Aaron's wrists is professionally tied—not too tight to cut off circulation, but impossible to escape. Patrick's work. He sits bound to one of Victor's dining chairs, positioned so he can see both the Christmas tree where we got engaged and the front door he'll never walk through again if I make the wrong choice.
Or the right one, depending on perspective.
I perch on the edge of the couch, still wearing the red sweater I put on this morning when my biggest concern was whether Victor would like how I looked for Christmas Eve. The engagement ring feels heavier now, like it's gained weight with each revelation about what accepting it truly means.
Victor stands by the window, sipping coffee like we're discussing weekend plans instead of his son's potential murder. His calm is the most terrifying thing about this entire situation. A normal father would be anguished, conflicted, desperate to find another solution. Victor looks mildly inconvenienced.
"Take your time, sweetheart," he says without turning around. "This is an important decision. I want you to be completely comfortable with whatever you choose."
Comfortable. With choosing whether someone lives or dies.
"Kyra." Aaron's voice is hoarse from shouting, from pleading, from the growing realization that his childhood home has become his potential tomb. "Please look at me."
