Sweet Hatred
Chapter 185: Anger?

Chapter 185: Anger?

Hell, the day I walked into his apartment and heard the headboard slamming against the wall, some girl moaning like she was in a cheap porno? I didn’t even cry. I stood there for ten seconds, blinked, turned around, and left. I didn’t even get to see her face.

I wanted to. Sometimes I tried to remember what her voice sounded like, but my memory came up empty. I didn’t even care enough to storm in and slap her, or curse him out. I just... left. Went home. Slashed a tire or two. Broke a window or two also... and moved on.

Eric cheating on me didn’t destroy me. You know what did?

Kael firing me.

That stung worse than any betrayal.

So why... why did Ash Stanley make my chest feel tight and my blood feel like it was crawling through my veins like poison?

Was it the sex?

No.

Well—okay. The sex was... ridiculous. The way Kael had fucked me like it was a religion and he was trying to baptize my soul with every goddamn thrust definitely didn’t help. He kept going and going like I was a never-ending puzzle he was determined to solve with his dick and I just, passed the hell out like an idiot.

Yeah. That was memorable.

But not enough. Not this much.

The problem wasn’t the sex. The problem was me.

I knew I was in love with him. I’d known for a while. I was self-aware enough to name it, to feel it clawing under my ribs when he said my name in that low voice, when he touched my wrist like I was fragile, when he said stay.

But this?

This wasn’t normal. This was something else. Something unhinged. Like I was losing my grip on my own limits.

Because I didn’t just love Kael, I loved him too much. More than I could wrap my head around. More than I ever meant to. More than I probably should.

And that scared me.

Because what if he really did marry her?

What if all the things I’d quietly let myself hope for, all those moments that felt real, weren’t?

What would happen to me?

Would I collapse?

Would I still keep my head up, pretend it didn’t kill me, while slowly rotting from the inside out?

Sarah’s voice sliced through the fog of my spiraling thoughts. "You look like you’re about to kill someone."

I blinked at her. She was watching me with raised brows, half amused, half concerned.

"You need food," she said, standing up. "There’s a new place that opened across the street. Fancy rice bowls or some shit. Let’s go."

"I’m not hungry," I muttered. "I have work to finish."

Sarah groaned. "You’ve had ’work to finish’ since eight a.m. Come on. Just thirty minutes, Aria. You need to get out of your own—"

The door opened.

We both looked up.

And of course.

Kael.

Tall. Imposing. Perfect in that goddamn three-piece suit. Like walking temptation, dipped in danger, with that unreadable expression and eyes that landed on me like a direct hit.

My pulse spiked like an idiot.

Sarah looked between us and grinned.

Oh great.

Kael walked in like a thunderstorm, quiet but charged, jaw sharp, sleeves rolled, eyes locked straight on me. God, he looked terrifyingly good. And the way his gaze brushed over Sarah like she was background noise made something sour stir in my stomach.

"Mr. Roman," Sarah muttered, immediately scrambling to grab her tote bag like she’d just remembered she left her oven on.

Kael didn’t spare her a glance. He kept walking toward me, boots echoing across the floor like a countdown. His attention was solely mine, and instead of feeling flattered, I felt like prey. Again.

"I’ve been texting you," he said, his voice low, cool, and utterly unreadable.

I had. Put. My phone. On Do Not Disturb. So I could actually get some damn work done. But of course, to Kael, that was unacceptable.

"Doesn’t matter," he continued without missing a beat, already reaching for my bag like it belonged to him. "I picked a place for lunch."

He slid my phone and files into it like this was just another day in the dictatorship of Kael Roman.

That feeling hit me again, the one I hated most, helplessness disguised as rage. My throat tightened. My jaw locked. This sick cocktail of humiliation and pathetic yearning stirred in my stomach. I hated that he could still do this to me. Still have this power over me. Still twist me around his fingers like silk he didn’t even realize he was touching. And I gave him that power.

I used to find comfort in being wrapped up in his world, jetting off without notice, expensive lunches, being swept away into his penthouse like I was his favorite indulgence. But now? Now it just felt like I was disappearing.

I could already see the rest of the day playing out in my head like a looped recording: we’d eat, he’d tease me till I was laughing against my will, we’d head back and either get sucked into meetings or he’d drag me into another spontaneous flight, and then maybe I’d end up in his bed again, letting him ruin me the way only he knew how. And somehow, I’d keep letting him.

It was starting to scare me. Like I wasn’t even me anymore. Like I was just...this shadow orbiting his life. A version of myself I’d never agreed to become.

Hold on, I thought. Aren’t I overreacting? Am I just being dramatic again?

Sarah’s hand reached the door, clearly seconds from fleeing, but I stopped her without thinking.

"Sarah, wait."

I turned to Kael, gaze sharp as razors. "I already told you I’m having lunch with Sarah today."

His hand stilled mid-motion with my bag, but I didn’t give him the chance to say anything. I took the bag from him, snatched it, really and walked past him like I hadn’t just felt every nerve in my arm light up from brushing his jacket.

But then his hand caught mine.

The audacity.

I spun around to glare at him, heat bubbling in my chest.

"What are you doing?" I asked, each word clipped and laced with warning.