Free Web NovelChapter 372: Detour Gone... Right?
Kyle stood alone with Vivienne in the guest room, acutely aware of how this situation could be perceived. He was no handyman by any stretch, but he knew it would be in his best interest to stay in the good graces of Calista’s mother. Family dynamics mattered, even in arrangements as unconventional as his.
He followed her into the room and immediately noticed there actually was something that needed help. The bathroom door was open, and he could hear water running in an unnatural way, the sound erratic and pressurized.
This felt like a scene straight out of a bad porno, but Kyle knew it could only advance if he wanted it to. He could easily nip whatever this was in the bud before it escalated into something he’d regret.
Vivienne led him to the shower. She reached in and turned on the faucet, and immediately water began spewing everywhere. Not a normal spray pattern, but chaotic jets shooting in multiple directions from what looked like a broken connection somewhere in the fixture.
Kyle quickly took a step back, having no plans of being caught in the crossfire of whatever plumbing disaster this was.
But Vivienne wasn’t as fast. She’d been leaning in to demonstrate the problem, and the water hit her full force before she could react. Her shirt was instantly soaked, the thin fabric clinging to her skin like a second layer.
Kyle could see everything. The outline of her breasts, the shape of her body, even the detail of what she was or wasn’t wearing underneath. Which appeared to be nothing.
Believe it or not, this actually seemed to be an accident. Vivienne hadn’t intended to get soaked. The genuine surprise on her face, the way she’d jumped back too late, all suggested this wasn’t part of some elaborate seduction plan.
But there was no doubt she wasn’t in a hurry to cover herself up either.
She stood there, water dripping from her hair and clothes, looking down at herself with an expression that was equal parts annoyed and amused. Then she looked at Kyle.
Kyle instantly knew what he was dealing with. This woman was a cougar in the truest sense. Not just older and confident, but actively hunting. And worse than that, someone who’d weaponized her sexuality to the point where it was automatic, deployed in every situation regardless of appropriateness.
A slut, to put it bluntly.
No wonder Calista had turned out the way she had. This was the model she’d grown up with.
Kyle looked over his shoulder toward the door, calculating his exit strategy. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Sick daughter in the next room, broken shower, soaked mother who was making zero effort to preserve modesty.
"Step aside," Kyle said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Vivienne did just that, moving out of the cramped bathroom space to give him room to work.
The good thing about this situation was that Kyle had already drained his balls earlier with Isabeau. That should have taken the edge off, should have made him less susceptible to whatever energy Vivienne was putting out.
But his libido seemed worse than it initially was. Like it had a mind of its own, ramping back up despite being satisfied just hours ago. Even when he was a teenager with hormones running wild, he hadn’t felt this constantly ready.
Still, Kyle had acquired different knowledge over the past couple of weeks. Skills absorbed from people he’d observed, techniques learned from situations he’d navigated. Including basic handyman work from watching building maintenance workers around his apartment complex, absorbed through that same mimicry ability that let him fight like a trained martial artist or negotiate like a seasoned businessman.
He examined the shower fixture, water still spraying intermittently as pressure built and released. The connection between the showerhead and the pipe was loose, the threading stripped or cross-threaded at some point.
Kyle got to work, his hands moving with surprising confidence for someone who’d never done plumbing before. Tightening connections, adjusting the angle, testing the pressure. Within minutes, he had it working properly, water flowing in a normal stream instead of spraying chaos everywhere.
Something a qualified repairman would have done, but Kyle had managed it just fine. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
This could be Vivienne testing him. Kyle was a handsome rich man, after all. There was a very high chance he’d be completely useless around the house, the kind of guy who called professionals for everything. But he’d just shown he was more than capable of handling practical problems himself.
Kyle finished and turned around, wiping his hands on his pants.
The water had fully soaked into Vivienne’s shirt fabric now. Kyle could see the outline of her breasts even more clearly, the wet material leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. She was still standing there, making no move to cover up or change, just watching him with that same calculating expression.
But this felt like a test. Kyle had no idea if she was being genuine in her attempts at seduction or if this was some weird maternal evaluation of whether he was worthy of her daughter. Either way, it wasn’t worth engaging.
"You know," Kyle said, his voice dropping to something cold and flat, "it isn’t a good idea to tempt a man. Because he could take more than your body. He could take your life."
The look in his eyes shifted. Something predatory, dangerous, the expression of someone who’d killed before and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. He channeled everything he’d absorbed from being around Viktor, Marcello, the family heads. That aura of lethal capability that made normal people’s survival instincts scream.
He had his skill to thank for this flawless execution of menace.
Vivienne’s entire demeanor changed instantly. The seductive confidence evaporated. She stumbled backwards, actual fear flooding her face as she moved out of his way, pressing herself against the wall.
Her breathing had picked up, eyes wide, body language screaming that she’d just realized she might have pushed the wrong person.
Kyle held the look for another beat, then let it drop completely. His expression shifted to something friendly, almost boyish, as he laughed.
"Hahahaha! I’m just joking!" he said, the transformation so complete it was almost whiplash-inducing.
But the message had been delivered. The line had been drawn. Whatever games Vivienne thought she could play, Kyle had just made it clear there were boundaries she didn’t want to cross.
He walked past her toward the door, pausing in the hallway. "Take Calista to the hospital if she doesn’t get better when she wakes up. That fever needs monitoring."
Vivienne nodded, still pressed against the wall, still processing what had just happened.
Kyle looked at her one more time, his expression softening into something almost paternal. He wanted to make her feel small, put in her place. It was clear there was no male figure in her life doing that, setting boundaries, establishing hierarchy.
"Good girl," he said, his tone carrying just enough condescension to land properly.
Then he left, walking out of the apartment and heading to his car.
Behind him, Vivienne finally moved away from the wall, her hands shaking slightly as she processed the interaction.
"What the fuck is up with him?" she muttered to herself, but it wasn’t from a place of excitement or intrigue. It was actual fear. Genuine uncertainty about what she’d just encountered.
Kyle had been in the presence of actual killers now. The fucking Mafia. The family heads who’d built empires on violence and control. This wasn’t him just replicating movies or television shows anymore. He could recreate the actual sensation that Viktor, Marcello, and the other family heads had inflicted on him. That aura of danger that came from real proximity to death.
He climbed into his car, started the engine, and pulled away from Calista’s building.
His little detour was done. Now he was headed to Jane and the others, finally getting around to the original plan for the day.
But as he drove, he glanced at his phone sitting in the cupholder. Still no response from Ella. The message still showed only one checkmark. Not delivered.
Kyle frowned, unease creeping in despite his efforts to push it away.
Where the hell was she? And why wasn’t her phone receiving messages?
He told himself it was nothing. Phone died, she was somewhere with no signal, she was pissed and had blocked him.
But something in his gut said it was more than that.
Something was wrong.
