720 DAYS IN PRISON, HE RETURNED INVINCIBLE

Chapter nineteen: Sleepover ambition

Vivianne blinked, stunned. The distance stretched between her and this stranger in plain clothes, not only in length but also in silence. His quick disapproval somehow tasted worse than anything she had ever felt because it was happening for the first time.

Vivianne thought about calling her bodyguards to escort her home, but it would take at least an hour before they arrived, and by then, things might have gone wrong. Alone in the wrecked hotel with thugs she didn't know, maybe they were waiting outside to finish her off or planning reinforcements to trap her again.

In summary, she needed this stranger's help, and the sheer reality of her desperation felt absurd. But what was even more absurd and humiliating, was waking up to a morning news bulletin for the whole world to see that the CEO, the Ice Queen of the Cross family, had been sexually assaulted by thugs in a hotel. That would be devastating.

Killian looked away from her without any interest and started walking out.

Vivianne crossed the room in two strides and stood in front of him, blocking his path while gripping his arm slightly tight than necessary out of urgency and desperation.

Killian was momentarily shocked. The contact sent an electric jolt through his brain, a sharp reminder that it had been a long time since he had been this close to any woman. Something flickered behind his eyes that was genuine discomfort. Or maybe not.

He plucked her hand away.

"Please, help me..." Her voice dipped to a pleading edge, cracking with desperation. "...I'll do whatever you say."

"Good," Killian replied curtly. "Then just walk away from my presence. You're already invading my personal space."

Her pride teetered on the edge of collapse.

Vivianne Cross's expression fell, but instead of feeling disappointed or angry at his outright rejection, she found herself strangely intrigued. Her curiosity deepened, and her heart, cold as ice, cracked under the weight of something she had never experienced before and something she never wanted to admit.

Who really is this man?

Some men would jump at it, to willingly help her, and some would never resist the price she was offering. But Killian had rejected both insignificantly.

The moment Killian walked back into his room, Vivianne slipped past him before he could close the door.

He paused and looked back in shock to see her standing in the center of the room with a smile that was oddly satisfying and childish. Killian was shocked at her display.

"What do you think you're doing?" He raised a brow.

"I'm spending the night at your place," Vivianne said, the smile still lingering on her face. "Why didn't I think of that earlier? Instead of going home so late at night, it's better if I stay somewhere safer."

"You don't even know me yet you're speaking about staying in my place," Killian said, his voice hardening slightly, though something had cracked beneath his stoic mask which was Genuine surprise.

"I know enough from what I saw earlier," she replied. "You're not a bad guy. You stopped me from drinking that poison. You fought those men just to protect me."

Her voice was a mixture of gratitude and intrigue.

"I didn't do it for your admiration or whatever you think of it," Killian said firmly. "I did it because it was necessary."

"And that's what makes you different." Vivianne's voice was sincere. "It makes you a good person, and I'm very grateful."

Killian paused, allowing the silence to stretch.

"Alright." He let out a sharp exhale of resignation and exhaustion. Having a strange woman sleep over at his place was the last thing he expected that night. "I'll just take your place."

"Maybe it's better if I spend the night here." She grinned.

Vivianne's determination to have Killian escort her home had completely vanished. Her voice carried a hint of excitement as she looked around the luxurious penthouse. Even her own free behavior baffled her. She had never felt this safe around anyone—not even her family members. Yet, there was something about this stranger that made her feel protected.

Killian was utterly surprised by her decision.

"You want to sleep here? With me?" he asked flatly.

Vivianne locked eyes with him, searching for any hidden motive behind his words. Killian's expression remained unreadable, his eyes devoid of ulterior intentions.

Vivianne took a step forward and immediately regretted it.

Her heel slipped with a sharp scraping sound against the marble floor. The room tilted before her eyes, and for a second, the sensation of falling felt oddly satisfying before panic took over. Her arms flailed wildly in a futile attempt to regain balance.

She screamed.

Realizing she was about to smash her head against the floor, she shut her eyes.

Killian moved in a blur and Vivianne landed safely in his arms.

The penthouse fell silent.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel bar that had become a wreckage the moment Killian stepped in, Jack pulled his phone from his pocket with trembling and bloodied fingers after he recovered a small strength, muttering order into the speaker with his broken sore lips. Anger simmered just beneath the surface.

"C-come over to the Five Star Hotel now. Call the damn ambulance."

Fifteen minutes later, three bodyguards in sharp suits arrived alongside paramedics.

They were shocked to find him battered on the floor. He was lifted onto a stretcher, whimpering with every slight shift before he was rushed to the hospital.

Jack Moore lay on a hospital bed, bandages wrapped around his face like a ghost. One dislocated leg hung in traction. He was surrounded by his family; his father, David Moore; his mother, Mariam Moore; several relatives; and Cassandra, who had rushed over the moment she heard what happened.

"What the heck happened to you, baby? Oh my God..." Cassandra gasped. Her purse clattered to the floor as her eyes widened with panic and concern. "I always told you to watch your speed on the road."

"Tell us, son," David Moore said. "What exactly happened?"

"Yes," his mother added, concern etched across her face as she insisted. "Tell us what happened that made you look like a punching bag."

"The bodyguards told me they found you in a bar," his father continued. "What were you doing there? Did you get drunk again?"

The question struck Jack like a physical blow.

His heart raced.

He couldn't possibly tell his family the truth, especially with Cassandra's present—that he had been chasing another woman when their wedding was drawing near.

His mind scrambled for an excuse.

"It was Killian," he blurted. His thoughts raced as he searched for a convincing story to back his revelation.

He couldn't tell them that he had tried to force another woman into his bed and ended up receiving the beating of his life.

"Killian?" The room fell silent in shock.

Everyone exchanged surprised glances.

"That criminal!?" David Moore exclaimed. "How the heck did he get out of prison?"

"Are you telling the truth, son?" Mariam Moore asked, her eyes slightly wide.

Meanwhile, Cassandra stood frozen beside the bed, her expression a mix of shock and confusion.

"It's true that Killian is out of prison, but..." She paused, her gaze skeptical. "...could he really have done something this brutal?"

She knew who Killian had been in the past; the submissive son-in-law enduring the insults and humiliation of her family, the man who never struck back, even when he was innocent of any charge. Killian would rather make peace.

But another thought clashed with those memories. Killian is now a man with a history in prison. Worse still, the most dangerous and terrifying prison in the entire world. Dreadmoo. A place even stronger men breaks.

"I'm just wondering if it was really Killian who did this to you." Her skepticism was obvious.

"Tell us what actually happened, babe."

Jack opened his mouth to speak.