𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝟏𝟖+

chapter ten

RONAN

IT WAS JUST TWO HOURS AWAY UNTIL I REGAIN the throne that was taken from me when I surrendered to the Americans. I had been eagerly waiting for this moment for two and a half years. Since my capture, I had been strategizing, and now everything was falling into place.

Plan A.

Dominic would grant me control over the streets of Costa Rica and New York in exchange for his beloved principessa.

Plan B.

Kill them all.

The agreement excluded the use of guns. Only five people would be present in the confined room: Me, Nicholas, Dominic, Adeline, and Aria. No bodyguards, no additional assistance, and no distractions. I instructed Nicholas to take all of my guns, including the backups, and securely hide them. I didn't want to be tempted to carry one with me, aware of my own weaknesses.

Mistakes were not an option. I couldn't afford to make any errors because I knew that a single mistake would cost me control. I was a precise executor, and time was of the essence. Every passing second mattered to me. I believed in calculations. Mathematics permeated everything, and any incorrect calculations would jeopardize the entire plan. Accuracy in calculations was crucial, and I never faltered in that aspect.

"I overheard Nicholas telling Aria, 'It will only be the five of us: Ronan, me, your father, your mother, and you.' Aria nodded, and their attention shifted to me," I said, my gaze fixed on the blank white wall in front of me. "Where's blondie?" I asked. "She's at home. And this time, she will stay there. Levi and Viktor are keeping an eye on her," he replied.

My eyes shifted to the dark-haired woman who had just taken a seat on the stool by the kitchen island. Her hair cascaded down her back, measuring eighteen inches. I observed that she usually styled it in curls, never leaving it straight or natural. Her dark hair complemented her caramel-colored skin, and her deep brown eyes seemed to captivate everyone around her.

And I despised it.

"Nicholas, leave," I muttered. He glanced at Aria once more before walking past me and exiting the room. Aria's body language remained unchanged. She didn't appear tense or worried about being alone with me. I stopped at the third square of tiles on the floor, which was two inches away from her seat. I didn't need to get any closer. Her natural scent reached my nostrils, infiltrating my mind, and I knew it would linger for days.

She was confused. I had been standing here for two minutes, staring at the back of her head, inhaling her scent, and observing the details of her appearance. She had an average-sized head with an ordinary amount of hair strands. Typically, a person has or had around a hundred thousand strands of hair on their head, discounting the fifty to a hundred strands lost over time.

"Ask me a question," I finally spoke, my eyes still scanning the back of her head. Her body subtly shifted in the chair, and her hands rested in her lap. "I don't have any questions," she quickly replied.

She was lying.

She had numerous questions, but she was afraid to ask because she already knew the answers.

"Ask the question, Aria," I insisted. For a moment, she remained silent, but then she turned around in her seat, and our eyes met for the first time since being in the same room. Her deep brown eyes locked with my different-colored ones, and they sparkled with intensity. Her throat seemed dry, and now I sensed her tension. I shifted my focus, finding an object in the kitchen to divert my attention