Just as Allison was about to strike with her sword, Kellan's hand shot out like a snake, seizing her wrist and wresting the weapon from her grasp. He moved so quickly that even as the blade grazed his skin, he didn't flinch, the pain barely registering in his steely gaze.
"Are you trying to kill me, Miss Clarke?" he asked, his tone soft yet tense.
"Of course not," she replied, her voice as cool as a winter breeze.
Their hands remained clasped, fingers brushing, casting shadows on the cave wall that felt strangely intimate, like lovers caught in a fleeting moment.
But Kellan wasn't one for games. He got straight to the point.
"Yes, my legs were paralyzed, but I've recovered. The Lloyd Group is besieged by enemies and internal strife. I maintained the pretense of being wheelchair-bound to attract genuine threats."
He looked into her eyes, so close he could see his reflection in them. "As for that night on the cruise ship, I was drugged. I was not in control of my actions when I entered that room. I never expected to meet you there, Miss Clarke."
Kellan's jaw tightened as he recalled the night she had subdued him. It was an indelible memory, but he was prepared to play his role.
"I will take responsibility, regardless. Leaving was never an option," he said firmly.
But Allison withdrew her hand, her expression unchanged. "It's not necessary. I've already dismissed it. It's unimportant."
He disliked complications, especially with someone like Kellan. His every move was calculated; his feigned disability a strategic maneuver to manipulate his adversaries. It spoke volumes about his ruthlessness.
"I'm just someone recently divorced and nearly homeless," Allison said with an innocent smile. "Colton and Melany already consider me a threat and are making my life difficult. I'm just trying to minimize the drama. Now that I've heard this bombshell about you, I doubt I'll live long enough to reveal it."
He smiled brightly, his face illuminated by the firelight. "So don't worry. I'll pretend I'm in the dark."
Kellan chuckled, realizing how absurd his explanation had sounded. Wolves in sheep's clothing: such a pretense suited neither of them.
"Cut the pretense," Kellan said with a smirk. "It's awkward for both of us. No wonder your ex-husband chose someone like Melany. If you're going to play the innocent lamb, perhaps you should improve your acting."
"And you, Mr. Lloyd?" Allison replied, her pretense abandoned. Honesty felt considerably more bearable.
Kellan, showing no signs of his earlier injury, calmly assessed the situation. "If you try to kill me, the Lloyd family will hunt you down. They will pursue you to the ends of the earth. Even if you escape, Ontdale will be a distant memory."
He was certain her decision to remain in Ontdale after her divorce meant she had something here she couldn't easily leave. Whatever it was, eliminating him would only make her life more precarious. The sword had seemed more like a demonstration than a genuine threat. His demeanor cooled, aware that Kellan's words were veiled threats. Killing him would make life in Ontdale unbearable due to the Lloyd family's reach. She needed to stay, at least until the International Perfumery Competition, where she hoped to find clues about her mother's disappearance, which had brought her here.
Talking to someone as sharp as Kellan had its drawbacks. They both knew how to maintain distance. Outwardly, Allison remained composed.
"I can leave whenever I want. People like me don't cling to places."
Kellan, looking into her impassively firm eyes, proposed, "How about we reach an agreement that benefits us both?"