Kingston’s Point of View

I sat in the leather chair across from Snow’s father, relaxed yet fully aware of the tension in the room.

His office was grand, everything about it designed to assert dominance—mahogany furniture, tall windows, shelves lined with books that looked like they’d never been opened.

But none of that mattered to me. The only thing I cared about was why I was here: Snow.

“Thank you,” her father said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was calm, measured, but there was an edge to it, as if thanking me left a bitter taste in his mouth. “For helping Snow. I heard you took her to the hospital.”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs casually. “She needed help. I was there.”

His brow furrowed slightly, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. “That’s it? You just happened to be there?”

I tilted my head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. “Why does it matter? She’s fine now, isn’t she?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the polished surface of his desk. “Why are you doing this, Kingston?” he asked, his voice low and deliberate. “What’s your angle?”

There it was—the real question he wanted to ask.

I didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence hang in the air as I studied him. His face was calm, but his eyes were anything but. I recognized that look—it was the same one I’d seen in countless negotiations, in men who wanted to outthink me but never could.

Finally, I sighed, sitting up straighter and locking eyes with him. “I like my little bunny,” I said simply, the smirk widening into a full smile. “And she’ll soon be mine.”

The words hit their mark. I saw the flicker of tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled just slightly against the edge of the desk. He didn’t like what I was saying, but he didn’t interrupt.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said quietly after a moment, his tone laced with warning.

I chuckled, standing up and smoothing out my jacket sleeves. “I’m always playing a dangerous game. It’s what I do best.”

As I stepped toward the door, I glanced back over my shoulder. “Don’t worry, old man. I’m still your enemy—but not when Snow’s around. When it comes to her, the rules change.”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. The silence spoke volumes, and I knew my words had left an impact.

I pushed open the door, stepping out into the hallway with a small laugh. Her father thought he could intimidate me, but he didn’t understand. This wasn’t about rivalry or business deals anymore.

This was about Snow.

As I walked through the quiet halls of the mansion, my thoughts drifted to her—her hesitant smile, the way she looked at me with a mix of curiosity and defiance. She was different. Innocent in ways I hadn’t expected, but with a fire that I couldn’t ignore.

She didn’t trust me yet. I could see it in her eyes, the way she hesitated around me, trying to figure out my intentions. But that was fine. I had time.

I stepped out into the cool afternoon air, my red Lamborghini gleaming in the driveway. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I let out a breath, running a hand through my hair.

Snow was going to be mine—whether her father liked it or not.