Accidental Marriage with the CEO: Unwanted Bride
Chapter 37: Cold shoulder

Chapter 37: Cold shoulder

Syres responded as he approached them, hands buried in his pockets, his composure unshakable and deliberate.

Zara scoffed, her voice sharp. "You might have saved her this time, but that doesn’t make you innocent. For all we know, you could be part of this twisted plan." Her accusation hung heavy in the air.

But instead of defending himself, Syres tilted his head slightly and replied, calm as ever, "You are right. I could be part of this game. Maybe I shouldn’t be trusted." He then lowered himself into the chair across from them, the tension thickening with every breath. "Still... if Patricia wants it, I will leave the mansion. You two can stay here."

Zara froze. Was he bluffing? Manipulating? Yet there was something about his tone...steady, stripped of ego, that made it impossible to call it a lie.

She didn’t know him well, but she knew enough to tell Syres wasn’t the type to speak carelessly or break a promise.

"What makes you think we will fall for your sweet little offers?" Zara narrowed her eyes, smirking as she tried to regain control of the conversation.

"I don’t think," Syres replied, his confidence razor-sharp. "I know. And you already have." He delivered the words with a quiet finality that sliced into her pride.

"No, thank you, Mr. Syres," Patricia cut in, her tone polite but resolute. "You have done more for me than I could ever ask of my own family. I will stay in a hotel."

Syres didn’t argue. He merely nodded, respecting her choice.

"I will stay with..." Zara began, but her words were cut short by a loud, echoing bang that silenced the room.

All eyes turned to the door, except Syres. He simply smiled, a knowing curve to his lips.

Heavy footsteps followed, and then... he appeared. The last person any of them expected. His presence shifted the air itself, thick with fury, dark with promise.

Patricia’s heart lurched the moment their eyes met. His were blazing, unreadable. Was he angry that she wasn’t dead? Or because she was under the roof of the man he warned her about?

"What took you so long?" Syres rose and turned toward Roman, deliberately stepping into his line of sight, shielding Patricia.

"Get out of my way," Roman said, his voice quiet, lethal. Even a child would hear the threat beneath the calm.

"Relax. You are making me regret calling you. Shouldn’t you be thanking me? After all... I found your wife." Syres smirked, his words dripping provocation.

The response was immediate and brutal. In a flash, Roman’s punch cracked across Syres’s face with a sickening thud. Both Zara and Patricia gasped, stunned.

"That was hurtful," Syres muttered, his head turned, blood gathering at the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away, the light fading from his face, replaced by something darker, something dangerous.

In a blink, he returned the punch with equal force.

Roman didn’t flinch. He seized Syres by the collar and slammed another fist into his face. The fight ignited into a full-on brawl.

Patricia ripped the drip from her arm and forced herself off the bed, stumbling toward them. Her legs trembled, every step a struggle, but she reached them, just in time. She thrust herself between them, Roman’s hand still raised in midair, his fury locked on Syres.

"Please... stop," Patricia whispered, barely able to stand.

She lost her balance but Syres caught her before she hit the ground.

Unseen by her, another hand had reached out to help... then hesitated... and quickly withdrew before she could notice.

"Hey, easy," Syres said gently, even though he was the one who clearly needed comfort. His face was battered, visibly more injured than Roman’s, a silent testament that he had been holding back, unlike his opponent.

"Are you okay?" Patricia asked, her voice laced with worry. But Syres only gave her a soft smile and replied, "You should be more concerned about your fuming husband."

His gaze dropped to Roman, whose fists were clenched tightly at his sides, the rage still radiating off him.

"We leave. Now," Roman commanded and stepped forward to lift her, only for Patricia to shift away from his touch and lean into Syres instead.

Roman’s frown deepened. Her rejection stung like acid. Why did she shrink from his touch like that? As if he were something vile...something monstrous?

"I have Zara by my side," she said quietly, still avoiding his eyes. "I will come home as soon as I am healed."

Roman wasn’t the most emotionally intuitive man, but even he could tell something was terribly wrong. She hadn’t picked his calls, had almost frozen to death, and now she was acting like he was the one who put her there. Was she really giving him the cold shoulder...without even asking him anything?

"No. We leave together. Now. I don’t care who you have by your side," he insisted, the edge in his voice rising.

Patricia finally looked up and the hatred in her eyes stopped him cold. It was sharp. Icy. Like a blade pushed straight through his chest. She didn’t just blame him, she despised him. At that moment, he was sure of one thing.

She wanted him dead.

"Fine," she said, her voice strong and final. He looked disappointed by her response. Just when he thought she was about to unleash her fury, she shut it down with one bitter word, and it irritated him more than a thousand accusations.

"Let me help you,"

"Let me help you,"

Roman and Syres spoke in unison, stepping forward. Patricia scoffed at Roman’s offer, her expression unreadable but her choice clear.

Was this really the same man who had conspired with his mistress to leave her for dead?

"Syres will help me," she said coldly.

Roman didn’t argue. He withdrew in silence, smothering his anger. Once they were home, he would talk to her, he would make her listen. Now wasn’t the time.

Syres lifted Patricia gently into his arms and began walking toward the exit.

Zara followed, her emotions conflicted. She wasn’t thrilled Patricia had chosen Syres but she was grateful it wasn’t Roman.

She passed him without a word, but he called her name. She halted with an eye roll before turning to face him.

"I am not as easily deceived as Patricia. Save your lies for her," she snapped before he could speak.

"I care less about deceiving you," Roman said, voice low. "Why didn’t you call me immediately?"

Zara stared at him like he had just grown another head. Was he serious?

"Oh, now you want to flip the blame on me? After she called you again and again and you ignored her?" Zara exploded, unable to hold it back any longer.

"Called?" Roman repeated, his brows drawing together in confusion. He hadn’t used his phone yesterday but when he checked it this morning, there had been no calls from Patricia. He had assumed she was hiding from him, possibly on a date with Syres but now?

Suspicion flared.

"Save me the pretense," Zara said. "You want her dead so badly, but you will have to go through me first."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving him frozen in place, pieces of the puzzle crashing together in his mind.

So that was why Patricia had recoiled from him like he was the enemy. And now, Roman knew, he knew someone had made damn sure those calls never reached him.