Kael took a step back, grabbed his phone, and started barking orders again.
"Have every guest accounted for. Every staff ID re-verified. Nobody leaves the island unless I see their face myself," he snapped, pacing the room.
I stared at him, still barefoot, in his shirt. Still aching from his touch and yet… rattled by the cold steel in his voice.
"You're not sleeping tonight, are you?" I asked quietly.
He paused. Turned to me. His voice dropped.
"Not until I bleed out those bastards."
….
Kael's voice kept slicing through the air like a blade, commanding and low as he barked into his phone from the next room, the lounge area, maybe. I didn't know what to call it, but it had glass walls, expensive furniture that looked barely used, and the weight of too many secrets.
A knock sounded.
Then the door creaked open and one of his men, silent and rigid, handed over my bag, the one from my room.
I didn't even thank him.
I didn't care.
