Chapter 36: The plan
Kian didn’t answer her, but he didn’t walk away immediately either.
Over the next few months, Alice showed up at the estate more often. They started running into each other in the quiet corners of the property, behind the glass greenhouses, on the side patio late at night, or near the back gates where the servants went to smoke.
One night, during a massive dinner party Lance Kingston was hosting for his wealthy political friends, Kian went out to the side garden to take a five-minute break. He stood under the shadow of a stone archway, lighting a cigarette.
A quiet step sounded on the gravel, and Alice stepped out of the dark, leaning her back against the cool stone beside him.
She looked out toward the bright, glowing windows of the grand ballroom, where laughter and classical music were spilling into the night. She watched the rich men in their expensive tuxedos and the women dripping in diamonds.
"Look at them," Alice murmured, her tone dripping with quiet disdain. "They drink hundred-dollar glasses of wine while my mother works sixteen-hour days just to keep their marble floors clean."
Kian took a pull from his cigarette, the tip glowing red in the dark. "That’s how the world works."
"It’s how they made it work," Alice corrected, turning her head to look at him. Her eyes were sharp, gleaming in the moonlight. "They didn’t earn any of this. Lance Kingston built his empire on the backs of better men, and one day, that stupid, useless girl of his is going to inherit all of it without lifting a finger."
She looked at Kian’s face, her smirk growing slightly. "You hate them just as much as I do, don’t you? You wear the suit, you stand at attention, but behind that mask, you want to burn this whole place to the ground."
Kian looked down at her. For the first time in his life, he felt understood.
Alice didn’t treat him like a guard or a servant. She didn’t offer him soft, gentle smiles or bring him sweet coffee. She saw the darkness inside him, the anger and the scorn he had carried since he was a child, and she didn’t run away from it. She shared it.
They started meeting regularly. Quiet conversations turned into long nights in her small apartment near the city. Alice was clever, sharp, and ruthless. She understood power, money, and how the world really functioned. When they finally slept together, it wasn’t soft or romantic. It was grounded in a shared hatred for the people above them, a quiet agreement that they belonged on the same side of the fight.
Around that same time, Isabella’s feelings for Kian reached a point where she couldn’t hide them anymore.
She would leave small notes on his desk. She would linger by his car, asking him if he wanted to sit with her during lunch. She looked at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Kian found it pathetic, but he kept quiet.
One night, in Alice’s dimly lit bedroom, Alice lay with her head on Kian’s chest, her fingers lightly tracing the scars on his shoulder.
"She’s in love with you," Alice said suddenly, her voice casual, almost bored.
Kian didn’t open his eyes. "I know."
"She’d do anything you asked her to do," Alice continued softly, her voice taking on a lower, sweeter edge. "She looks at you like you’re a god."
Kian let out a short, dry breath. "She’s an idiot."
Alice sat up slightly, resting her chin on her hand, looking down at his face. "She’s an heiress, Kian. She’s the key to everything her father owns."
Kian opened his eyes, looking up at her.
"Think about it," Alice whispered, her dark eyes flashing. "Lance Kingston is old. He’s sick, even if he doesn’t want to admit it to the press. When he dies, everything goes to her. The company, the accounts, the estate. If she marries you... it all becomes yours. Ours."
Kian stared at her. "I’m a guard, Alice. Lance would never let his daughter marry a bodyguard."
"Then make her fight for you," Alice said smoothly. "Make her fall so deeply in love with you that she threatens to cut her father off if he says no. She’s spoiled enough to do it. And once you’re inside... once you have her ring on your finger... we take it all. Every single cent."
At first, Kian hesitated. Not because he cared about Isabella’s feelings, but because he didn’t want the hassle. He wanted his money so he could leave and be left alone.
But a few weeks later, Lance Kingston did something that pushed Kian over the edge.
Lance had called Kian into his office after a long day of travel. The old billionaire sat behind his massive mahogany desk, skimming through a stack of legal documents without sparing Kian so much as a glance.
"Close the door."
Kian obeyed.
Lance signed the last page before finally looking up. His eyes swept over Kian with the detached indifference of someone inspecting a piece of expensive equipment.
"I’ve noticed Isabella has taken a liking to you."
Kian kept his expression neutral.
"She’s always been... sentimental," Lance continued. "She gets attached to people who are kind to her. Drivers. Tutors. Staff. It’s harmless, but girls like her have a habit of confusing professionalism with affection."
He leaned back in his chair.
"So I’ll give you a bit of advice."
Lance’s tone remained calm, almost conversational.
"Know your place."
The words hung in the room.
"You’re good at your job, Carter. Reliable. Quiet. Men like you are difficult to find." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That’s because the smart ones understand where they belong."
He slid a thin envelope across the desk.
"There’s a five-thousand-dollar bonus in there for staying late tonight."
The envelope stopped just short of Kian’s hand.
"Take my daughter home after the gala. Make sure she doesn’t ruin her dress or wander off with the wrong crowd." Lance returned his attention to the documents in front of him. "You’re useful. Stay that way."
Kian stared at the envelope.
Five thousand dollars.
To Lance, it was nothing more than a convenient reward for obedience. A reminder that every ounce of Kian’s loyalty could be bought, measured, and filed away like another business expense.
Useful.
That was all he’d ever be in Lance Kingston’s eyes.
Not a man.
Not an equal.
Just another employee who knew his place.
Something inside Kian hardened.
He picked up the envelope, slipped it into his pocket, and lowered his head.
"Yes, Mr. Kingston."
His voice was steady.
But as he walked out of the office, the last trace of hesitation disappeared.
That night, Kian changed his strategy.
He stopped being cold to Isabella. He started smiling back when she handed him coffee. He touched her hand gently whenever he helped her out of the car, letting his fingers linger against hers just a second too long. He looked her in the eyes and listened when she talked about her day.
Isabella had fallen for it completely. Within six months, she was entirely wrapped around his finger.
When Lance found out about their secret relationship and blew up in a rage, Isabella stood her ground, crying and screaming at her father, threatening to leave the family entirely if she couldn’t be with Kian.
Lance, weakened by his unfailing love and unwilling to lose his only daughter, finally caved.