when sky forgot my name

Chapter 09 –

POV: Kieller Voss

I wasn't just driving. I was tearing through the city like a storm.No destination. No peace. Just my hand gripping the wheel and my thoughts spiraling out of control.Lyra Vale. That cursed name. That award. That smug, polished look in her eyes when she held the trophy that should've been mine.

The city blurred. My anger didn't.

By the time I reached my estate—Villa Nighthaven—the sky had turned a cruel shade of blue.My villa didn't welcome people. It warned them.Tall black-glass walls, security lasers, and a driveway longer than most politicians' lies.Power dripped from every inch of it.

As I stepped out, the butler intercepted me like he had a death wish.

"Excuse me, sir. You have a guest."

"Unless it's devil coming to return my soul, I'm not in the mood."

"It's your father, sir."

I sighed. Of course. When everything's burning, the devil shows up with gasoline.

"Tell him I'll be down in five minutes. Or not at all. Up to him."

I didn't rush. I strolled to my room, tossed my jacket, splashed cold water on my face, and stared into the mirror.

My father was waiting downstairs, probably rehearsing his monologue about legacy, shame, and how I failed the great Voss name.

Let him wait.

At: The Living Room Showdown

He was seated like a king no one crowned — expensive suit, stone face, eyes full of judgement.

I walked in like I owned the world and sat like I'd burned it already.

"What the hell happened out there?" he started, voice laced with venom.

"Hmm. You'll have to narrow that down. I disappoint people on multiple levels."

"LYRA VALE, Kieller. She's been dragging you for two years, and now—this?"

"Dragging? I let her win the scraps. I take the real trophies later."

"Don't insult me. Your company's shares dropped 20%. Your media rating is a joke. Investors are furious."

I shrugged.

"Then they should invest in her. She's good at playing the victim. That's marketable these days."

He stood, slamming his palm on the glass table.

"You're a disgrace. I should've never handed you this empire."

I leaned forward, elbows on knees, matching his fire.

"No, Father. You handed me a broken crown, and now you're mad I don't kneel to you while wearing it."

"Enough. I want your resignation."

"Denied."

"What did you say?"

"I said no. You gave me one last chance years ago. This time, I'm taking it whether you like it or not."

He stormed out without another word. Classic Voss move — explode, insult, escape. No substance. Just pride and old wine.

The Road, The Van, and the Chaos

I drove. Fast. Aimless.The roads were quiet, but my mind wasn't.

Then it happened.

Out of nowhere, a black van sped past me — police sirens howling behind it.

And then —Something flew out of the van.

A body.

A woman.

She hit the ground like a ragdoll — spinning, crashing, bleeding. The van kept going. The police car chasing them exploded into a barrier.

What the hell?

The van pulled up next to me.

Men jumped out — masked, fast, ready to finish what they started.

I was halfway to flooring the gas pedal — when instinct took over.

"HEY!" I shouted, stepping out, raising my gun.

"Wrong damn day to pick a fight with me."

I fired a warning shot, then aimed and popped one of their tires.

I had already called the police before stepping out. Put them on speaker.

"Kidnapping in progress. Two vans. One sports car. Hurry."

"ETA two minutes," came the reply.

More men stepped out of the van. One from the sports car started shooting at me.

I ducked, ran forward.

Two men were dragging the body back into the van.

I slammed into them — fists flying, elbows cracking.

And then I saw her.

Her.

Lyra freaking Vale.

Unconscious. Bleeding. Her once-glamorous red dress torn, dirtied, soaked in blood.

Of course it was her.

Of course my worst night would feature her.

I cursed under my breath.

"Out of all the dying damsels in the world… it had to be YOU."

Still, I picked her up. Carried her in my arms. Not out of sympathy — but because leaving her felt… too easy.

Wrapped my coat around her because her dress was badly torn and her damn pride wouldn't.

At: Eden-Crest Elite Hospital:

I drove like hell to the nearest top-tier hospital.The kind where billionaires get face-lifts during heart surgery.

The moment we pulled up to Eden-Crest Elite Hospital, the security recognized my car.

They rushed outside as if the President had arrived.

"No press, no cameras, no interns with TikTok brains," I snapped.

I carried her inside — still unconscious, still bleeding, still a magnet for chaos.

A nurse reached to help, but I brushed her off.

"She doesn't need sympathy. She needs a surgeon. And privacy. Now."

"Mr. Voss, she's in critical condition—"

"Do I look like someone who came for the hospital tour? MOVE."

They took her in. I stood there, coat soaked in her blood, watching her disappear behind the sliding glass doors.

"Sir… her vitals are crashing. We need O-positive blood urgently. Are you—?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm your golden donor tonight. Hook me up before I change my mind."

As they inserted the needle, I kept my eyes on the hallway — sterile, white, and way too quiet for a night like this.

A doctor tried to brief me again. I didn't let him finish.

"Let me guess. Broken bones, brain bruised, internal bleeding. Seen it in movies. Just fix her."

"She'll need intensive surgery. Likely weeks of recovery."

"She can recover with her mouth shut, right? Good."

They moved her to a VIP surgical suite. I followed, just far enough to keep my distance, just close enough to oversee it all.

After the transfusion, I stood over her briefly.

Just a flicker of hesitation. Her breathing was shallow, her body paler than I'd ever seen it.

"You're not allowed to die, Lyra Vale. Not until I finish beating you."

And then I left.

At: Villa Nighthaven 

I got back to Villa Nighthaven and tossed my keys on the obsidian counter.

Every inch of this place screamed silence, solitude, and control — things Lyra Vale had shattered tonight.

I walked to the mini bar, poured myself a drink, and stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that overlooked the city.

The skyline sparkled. Cold. Distant. Much like how I wanted to be.

But I couldn't get her out of my head.

That red dress. The blood. The way her body hit the pavement.

The way I ran toward her — without thinking.

"Damn it, Vale," I muttered, slamming the glass down.

I stormed upstairs, peeled off my shirt, and faced myself in the mirror.

Messy hair. Blood stains on my collar. My jaw tight.

Even my reflection looked disgusted with me.

I changed into a black cotton tee and lounge pants, but rest wouldn't come.

I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling like it owed me answers.

Then the screen lit up — my smart TV had flipped to the news.

"Breaking: Billionaire CEO Lyra Vale abducted. Three staff confirmed dead. Suspect still at large."

They showed it all.

The surveillance. The body. The van. The masked men.

And then — the most painful part — her being hit in the back, dragged into the vehicle like nothing more than luggage.

"You had one job, Lyra. To stay out of my story."

I groaned and turned over, annoyed at the heat in my chest. What was that — concern? Guilt? Hell no.

I jumped up, walked to my drawer, and yanked out the red velvet envelope.

Same inkless threat. Same blood.

"You saved her once.But this game doesn't end in rescue.Next time, we don't miss.Next time... we carve your name instead."

I crushed the card in my fist.

Whoever they were…They made two mistakes tonight:

1. They attacked Lyra without finishing the job. 2.They left me alive.

"Your move, cowards."

I tossed the card into the fireplace. Watched it burn slowly — just like the rage building under my skin.

I stood there, staring into the fire as the red velvet envelope turned to ash — slow, silent, final.

They think they scared me?

They think tossing blood-soaked threats makes them powerful?

Let me remind them who the real monster is.

They left me a threat.They thought I'd be scared.How cute.

Let me make this crystal clear—

You don't warn Kieller Voss.You beg him for a chance to survive.And even then…I might still choose to burn you anyway.

So run.Hide.Plot your little revenge.

Because the moment I decide to move—You don't just lose the game.You become part of the ashes.

 [End of Chapter 09 – Fire Beneath the Ice]