CHAPTER FIVE: FIRE WITH FIRE
The next day, Kairose came dressed like a warning: short skirt, glossy lips, and her shirt knotted above her waist just enough to violate school code. She didn’t care. Let him look.
Let them all look.
If Katio wanted to play with fire, she’d make sure he got burned.
So when Marcus—tall, cocky, soccer-jersey-wearing Marcus—asked to sit beside her in class, she didn’t just say yes.
She laughed.
Laughed loud. Flirted. Leaned in when he whispered. Even rested her hand on his knee once, casually, like it meant nothing.
But her eyes kept flicking forward.
To him.
Katio stood at the front of the room with a perfect poker face—but his jaw ticked. His pen tapped too fast. His voice came out a little too sharp when he said, “Next time, focus less on thighs and more on your Shakespeare.”
The class chuckled.
Kairose smirked.
She’d won.
Or so she thought.
AFTER CLASS
She barely made it five steps before her arm was grabbed and she was yanked into the empty storeroom behind the lecture hall. The door slammed. Locked.
Katio.
His eyes were dark. His breathing uneven. His tie hung loose around his neck like he’d ripped it off mid-rage.
“You think this is a game?” he growled, backing her against the shelves.
“Maybe,” she shot back, heart racing. “What—jealous, sir?”
He laughed bitterly. “You touched another man in my class.”
“You ignored me for days,” she spat. “You flirted with every girl like I didn’t exist.”
His palm hit the shelf beside her head. She flinched—but he didn’t touch her.
“I didn’t sleep with them.”
“I didn’t sleep with Marcus.”
“But you wanted me to see it.”
Silence.
Heavy. Breathing. Tension like smoke between them.
“I wanted to feel something,” she whispered, voice cracking.
“You felt me last night,” he snapped.
“You didn’t touch me.”
“Exactly,” he said, stepping closer. “I played with you. Now you want more? Is that it?”
Her knees buckled.
“I hate you,” she breathed.
“I know,” he said. “Now tell me again, little wife… did he make you wet?”
Her gasp filled the space like thunder.
Katio leaned in, lips brushing her ear.
“Because if he did… I’ll ruin him.”
She grabbed his shirt.
He didn’t stop her.
Their mouths collided—wild, angry, too much teeth. His hands stayed on her hips, squeezing, holding—but not taking. Not yet.
“I want you to beg,” he whispered into her mouth. “Beg me to fuck you and maybe I won’t make you watch me touch someone else again.”
She bit his lip.
He smiled.
“Fire suits you, Kairose.”
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