Extra: Yandere Milfs Obsessed with me!-Chapter 41: A Sweet Kiss

I was following Kaiser. It wasn’t exactly obedience, but rather a form of necessity, as if an invisible thread was pulling me toward him. He was moving away from the crowded salons, the feigned laughter, and the warmth of the candles. We delved deeper into less lighted corridors. Our steps echoed differently on the stone.

The light became scarce. The torches were spaced out, and the blue glow of the moon passed through the high stained-glass windows. It drew colored and pale shapes on the floor. The air was cooler. It smelled of cold wax and damp stone.

Kaiser pushed a heavy oak door. It opened onto a closed loggia, an indoor balcony whose arches overlooked an empty courtyard. We were sheltered from view. The only light came from a shaft of moonlight above our heads.

The silence here was complete. It contrasted absolutely with the noise of the salon. Kaiser turned toward me. His face was partly in shadow, partly illuminated by the moon. The light accentuated the sharp line of his jaw and the dark depth of his eyes.

"Jessica," he said simply.

His voice, deep and calm, made me lift my eyes to the sky at the same time as his. The stars had freed themselves from the usual veil. I was struck by their density. Indeed, they seemed much closer and more numerous here than in the darkened garden of my childhood.

He stayed like that for a long moment, his hands resting on the cold stone balustrade, his face entirely turned toward the sky. Without thinking, I imitated him. I leaned beside him, barely a hand’s width away. The silence that settled between us was not heavy; on the contrary, it was soft, very tender. For the first time in years, I felt no need to fill it, to speak, to justify myself or make myself smaller so as not to disturb. I simply breathed, deeply, and this simple action already seemed immense to me.

The light night wind slid over my bare skin above the neckline of my dress. I was cold, yet I absolutely did not want to move. It was then that Kaiser turned his head slightly; I felt his gaze settle on my profile.

"When I was a child," he murmured finally, "my mother would take me to the roof of the house. We would stay there for hours, wrapped in the same blanket, looking at the stars. She said that the stars were the only things that never lied."

(Ps: This bastard didn’t know his mother; he’s just spouting bullshit.)

I did not respond immediately. I let his words float in the air between us, mingling with the breath of the wind.

"No one has ever spoken to me like that," I finally confessed, my throat a bit tight.

He turned his head completely toward me. The moon, low on the horizon, illuminated half of his face, the curve of his lips, plunging the other half into shadow.

"You have nothing to prove, Jessica. But if you want your father to pay for what he did to you, you will have to trust me," he said, looking me in the eyes.

A shiver ran through me, which had nothing to do with the cold this time. I felt my lips tremble slightly, betraying my turmoil; I bit them to calm them. He saw it. Without a word, he detached one hand from the balustrade and his fingers barely brushed the back of my hand resting there.

Under this caress, I lifted my eyes to him. Our faces were so close now that I could distinguish each dark eyelash, each shade of gray and blue in his irises.

He finally moved. Slowly, sliding his hand under my chin, gently lifting my face toward his.

"Jessica..." he whispered, his voice now only a warm breath against my lips. "I need to ask you something."

"Anything you want," I replied without thinking, the words escaping on their own in a barely audible murmur.

"Proof," he said. "Proof that you trust me..."

The proof he was actually asking for was to betray my father.

The words swirled in my head. He was asking me to betray my own blood. A dizziness took hold of me. Then the memories came back. The empty gaze of my father at my dying mother’s bedside.

His indifference when Hugo had humiliated me. His silent tolerance of Melissa’s hatred. He had never protected me. He had only tolerated me.

Kaiser saw the conflict in me. His voice became softer, almost persuasive. "I promise that I will protect you, no matter what decision you make. I will make sure you are happy. I promise..." He paused. The following words seemed to weigh heavily in the air. "... to make you a Paragon."

I lifted my eyes to him. In the dim light, his features seemed frozen. Strangely, I found him even more beautiful than before.

Thus, the last bond of loyalty to my family broke, silently. A strange calm invaded me. It replaced the inner turmoil.

"Okay," I said. My voice was firm and clear in the silence of the room. "I will give you what you need. I know where he keeps his most sensitive documents. I know the names of his agents. I will provide you with proof."

A slow, almost imperceptible smile brushed Kaiser’s lips.

"You are truly sublime," he murmured. Then, as he leaned in. The outside world seemed to dissolve. There was nothing left but the moonlight, the silence of the stone, and the reduced space between us that disappeared.

His hand rose slowly. His fingers first brushed the line of my cheek. The contact was surprisingly warm against my cool skin, and a shiver ran through me, distinct from the cold of the stone. His palm adapted to the curve of my face, his thumb tracing a path toward the corner of my lips. In his eyes, I saw passion for me.

He leaned in then, and the space between our breaths evaporated. Then he kissed me; his lips were soft, firm, and only sought to meet mine. It was brief.

When he pulled back just a few centimeters, his breath became words, a murmur that slid against my skin like silk. "You are magnificent," he whispered.

Such sweet words provoked in me a wave of warmth; I felt the blush rise to my cheeks, an embarrassment that the dim light could not completely hide. He saw it, and a flash of tender satisfaction passed through his gaze.

Then he came back.

He kissed me again. Time seemed to dissolve. The world reduced to the pressure of his lips on mine, to the warmth of his hand against my face, to the taste of his saliva. My hands finding on their own the thick wool of his coat to anchor myself there.

When he finally separated, the air suddenly seemed colder. A hoarse breath escaped me. On my lips, I could still feel the taste of his lips. The sensation was very pleasant, and I did not want to part with it for now. I wanted more; I desired something much more intense. With that, I approached him, gave him a look, then kissed him in turn.

(End of Jessica’s POV)