First To Look For Me

The car rolled to a heavy stop, breaking me from my spiraling thoughts. We had parked at the desolate edge of Crystal Coast. A luxury Maybach sat right beside us, looking entirely out of place in the punishing wind. Who had the money and boredom to stare at a freezing river in this weather?

Stepping out of the vehicle, the weight of this place crashed over me. Just yesterday, I had dragged the heavy layers of my bridal gown across this exact stretch of shoreline, my heart completely shattered as I walked aimlessly past the water.

Even though I hated Declan to the core, years of deep love weren't something you could sever in a matter of weeks. When he ran away from our wedding ceremony, the shock and anger eventually gave way to something much worse. Pure, suffocating disappointment.

Between Maya and me, he chose her. Watching his retreating back gave me every reason to despise him completely.

By the time I reached this shoreline yesterday, I was entirely numb. I hadn't even noticed the footsteps until the killer was right behind me, plunging a knife into my back with terrifying precision.

I could still clearly picture looking down to see the metallic blade sticking completely through my torso, and the exact patch of ground where my knees gave out.

Floating here now, I couldn't feel the phantom metal. I still raised a translucent hand, pressing my fingers instinctively against the space where the fatal wound should be.

The physical evidence was gone. Last night, I had bled heavily over these stones, but the relentless waves had scoured the shoreline clean. I scanned the immediate area, searching for any sign of my missing phone, but the riverbank was completely barren.

"Uncle Kieran, when did you get back to the country?"

Declan’s tense voice sliced through the freezing air, snapping me out of my dark memories.

I turned and spotted the man sitting motionless in a sleek wheelchair near the water's edge. Kieran wore a stark black coat that only amplified the striking paleness of his skin. The flawless structure of his face came fully into view, sending a deep chill straight down my spine.

He was the direct product of Declan’s grandfather, Reginald Sterling, spending one wild night abroad. As a result, Kieran carried the sharp, foreign features of his blonde-haired, blue-eyed mother.

He was undeniably handsome, yet incredibly dangerous.

Though Reginald had fathered him much later in life, Kieran was still an illegitimate child. He had been hidden away and raised abroad, rarely ever stepping foot back into the country. Despite being close to Declan in age, he commanded a suffocating authority that felt impossible to shake.

From the very first moment our paths crossed, his sheer presence terrified me.

Yet, fate had a twisted way of messing with my life. Whenever I found myself in genuine danger over the years, it was somehow always Kieran who ended up saving me.

The most prominent memory was during that horrifying tsunami, when I believed I was going to drown out in the ocean. His cargo ship happened to be passing nearby, and he ordered his men to pull me from the wreckage and bring me safely to the Vance residence.

Because of that debt, I had personally written out a wedding invitation by hand. Along with a carefully chosen thank-you gift, I shipped it directly to him overseas.

I had heard the rumors that, thanks to his razor-sharp business mind, he had already broken away from the Sterlings to become a rising powerhouse in the corporate world. Since he notoriously didn't get along with the main family, I never expected him to attend my wedding.

Kieran lazily dragged his gaze up from the dark water, pinning Declan with an unreadable look. "Do I need to explain myself to you?" he asked, his tone laced with absolute ice.

The younger man visibly stiffened. Declan was terrified of him too—terrified of this man with paralyzed legs and a widespread reputation for ruthless methods.

"Of course not," Declan scrambled to reply. "I was just curious what brings you here in this freezing wind, Uncle Kieran."

A cruel smirk touched Kieran's lips. "I'm curious too. Why aren't you spending time with your new wife and instead freezing yourself out here?"

Declan shifted his weight awkwardly. "Don't laugh at me, Uncle Kieran. Serena's got quite the temper. She's mad at me right now."

Pure, unfiltered mockery flashed in the older man's eyes.

"I don't think it's her temper that's the problem," Kieran stated flatly, dismantling the excuse. "She's just blind for marrying trash like you."

The insult landed like a physical blow, and Declan’s face flushed a deep red. "Uncle Kieran!"

But Kieran didn't even grant his nephew another passing glance. He casually raised a hand. "Dante, let's go."

The towering aide standing right behind the wheelchair—a massive man with a thick scar cutting across his brow—immediately gripped the handles. Dante began pushing the chair forward, slowly navigating the wheels over the uneven stone path.

Left behind in the biting wind, Declan stared bitterly at his uncle’s retreating back.

He locked his arms firmly at his sides, his fists balling up tight. "At the end of the day, Uncle Kieran," Declan muttered to the empty air, his voice stubborn. "Serena's the one who married me."

Hovering just a few feet away, I froze entirely.

I stared at the back of Declan’s head, my mind drawing a blank. I had absolutely no romantic or significant connection to the terrifying man who had just left, so the sudden, competitive edge in his voice made no sense to me at all.