𝑽𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂 [M.Kaiser x reader]

• Chapter 46 •

"There are two ways we can do this,"
-???

*(Warning: violence, drugging, Nothing you're not already used to :)*
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"Stay here." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. Y/n mawled. "No way..." She crossed her arms. "You're not seriously thinking of going alone."

"That's exactly what I'm thinking." Michael ran a hand through his hair, his slight anxiety evident. "I just need to see who's on board. It'll be quick."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"Y/n, you're not."

She clenched her jaw, stepping closer. "Micha..."

"Y/n." He cut her off, his eyes hard, but not out of intention. "You're staying here. That's final."

She let out a frustrated breath before turning to the only other person around who might have some sense. "Uh, Dad or uhm Noa..." She called to him, who had been silently observing. "Tell him I can handle myself."

Noa sighed, leaning back slightly. "Kaiser's right."

Y/n's eyes widened. "But he might get hurt?"

"He's built for that. I'll stay here with you." Noa said, his voice level. "If something happens, you need to be ready. Let him assess the situation first."

Noa gave Michael a simple nod before he turned. Y/n's face looked a bit frustrated, but deep down he knew that she was worried.

Michael hurried down the hallway, the urgency in his steps matching the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The jet's floor seem move to under the lights and every sound seemed amplified. The hum of the engines, the faint creak of the floor beneath his feet, and the rapid beating of his own heart.

Rounding the corner, he spotted the kitchen, its sleek design almost too perfect to be in the sky. But what caught his attention wasn't the pristine countertops or the glint of the knives neatly arranged on a magnetic strip.

It was the shadowed figure standing at the counter.

The thing was draped in an odd blend of dark clothing that seemed to absorb the light, making it appear almost like a silhouette brought to life. In its hand was a vibrant blue rose, the petals luminous under the gleam. The figure's presence was as calm as it was unnerving, exuding a sense of control that Michael instinctively distrusted.

His grip tightened on the broom he'd snatched from the corner, bringing it to his chest like a makeshift weapon. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice firm.

The figure turned slowly, the rose still in hand. "I'm glad it was you who came," it said, its tone light yet carrying a sinister undertone. With such quickness, the figure slid a knife from its place, the blade catching the light in a menacing gleam. Twirling it lazily, the figure pointed it directly at him.