THE LOST HEIRESS RETURNS AFTER DIVORCE
Chapter 65: You broke into my office

Chapter 65: You broke into my office

[This Chapter is dedicated to diavla! Thank you for your golden ticket, love]

Then she turned to face him, her voice sharper now. "Is that why you were staring at me while I was changing? Because you were ’admiring’?"

He didn’t flinch. If anything, the smirk on his lips deepened.

"It’s not invading privacy if I’m just admiring what’s already visible."

"You sound disgusting, Caius."

There was no bite of embarrassment in his tone. No shame. He looked pleased—like he was enjoying the tension, the way he always seemed to.

Heather turned her attention to the rack, trying to distract herself. She began rolling it toward the wall to get it out of the way, her thoughts swirling in frustration.

She needed to say something else, something that would wipe that smug smile off his face.

But then she noticed the shift in the air. She didn’t hear him speak, his silence was louder than anything she had heard all evening. Then she turned. Caius was no longer looking at her.

He was staring at the desk—at the document she had pulled out earlier. The one she forgot to put back.

His expression had changed completely. His eyes weren’t amused anymore. They were dark.

And she realized, too late, what she had done. She had left it there, wide open, on full display.

Heather swallowed hard and bit her lip. "I can explain," she said quickly.

The moment Caius saw the document on the desk, everything shifted. The look in his eyes—Heather had seen it before.

Not often, but enough to recognize what it meant. It was the storm before the downpour, the tightening of a jaw just before something shattered.

He crossed the room slowly, almost too slowly, and took the paper from her hand. He didn’t speak yet. He didn’t have to.

The silence in the room thickened around her as he slipped the document back into its envelope, sealed it with firm precision, and dropped it into the drawer like a body into a grave.

His hand lingered on the drawer handle for a second too long, before he straightened. He ran his fingers across his forehead like he was wiping away a thought he didn’t want to say out loud.

One hand stayed in his pocket. The other dropped to his side.

He started walking toward her.

Heather stiffened. She didn’t mean to. It was an old reflex—something leftover from another life.

"What did you read?" His voice was low, the kind of low that didn’t need volume to be dangerous.

"I can explain—" she began.

"You broke into my office," he cut her off. "Went to my drawer, and read my files."

"I didn’t break in," she snapped. "You called for me. I thought you were here."

"You thought I was here, and so what—you thought that gave you permission to go through my things?" He stepped closer.

"I saw my mother’s necklace," she said, her voice sharper now. "Locked up in a glass case. I thought maybe the key was somewhere nearby."

"So naturally, your hands went into my drawer?" he said, voice now laced with bitter sarcasm.

"I wasn’t looking for anything else," she said. "I saw that document by accident."

"And yet you opened it." He was inches from her now. Heather’s back hit the wall, and she knew he felt it—the way her breath caught.

She hated that he was making her feel trapped.

"I was curious. That’s all."

"No," he said. "That’s not all. That’s never all with you."

Heather narrowed her eyes. "Don’t do that. Don’t talk to me like I’m some kind of con artist. You lost the right to act wounded a long time ago."

Caius’s stare was unflinching. "Did someone send you to monitor me? Was it Adonis?"

"What? No. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Then why were you going through my files?" He moved in, enough for her to see the glint of something in his eyes.

Not exactly rage, something else. A kind of wounded ego that made men dangerous.

Heather didn’t answer.

He smiled, but not the kindly smile. "Well then. You know the rules," he said. "Sex, to repay what you’ve done."

The words hit her like a slap.

She stared at him, stunned. Not because she was shocked—she wasn’t. But because part of her had almost forgotten the man he used to be.

"You’re disgusting," she said softly, the venom in her voice stronger than any scream. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I don’t have any shame about getting what I want."

He stepped even closer, his breath brushing her face. And just like that—like a light switch—her body remembered the last time his eyes looked this dark.

The broken vase. Lauren’s vase.

She hadn’t meant to knock it over. She had only gone into his room to carry his jacket, so she could wash it for him. She was young, foolish.

Still trying to believe that being his wife meant something to him. The vase shattered behind her, and that was when he snapped.

He didn’t exactly hit her.. But he slammed her against the wall, pinned her wrists above her head.

And it hurt. Not just physically. She remembered the betrayal more than the bruise.

That was the first time she realized she’d married a stranger.

His hand brushed her face now—not soft, but firm. She knew what he was going to do after this, so she slapped his hand from her face.

Caius shifted his hand to himself and kept it there. He was staring at her like he couldn’t recognize who this person was.

"Do you realize what you just read?"

"I barely read it."

"I know you’re not this stupid. You were looking for something against me, weren’t you?"

She didn’t reply to that, but she shook her head. She wasn’t exactly looking for anything against him, but when she did find something accidentally, she took advantage of the opportunity.

He nodded this time, and slowly paced around the room before turning back.

"I am going to ask you one more time, why did you come in here?" he said again, more quiet now.

"I told you. I thought you were in here."

"You saw the sign on the door."

"I did. And I ignored it."

"Of course you did." He exhaled, like this all made sense to him now. "You always cross the line. And then you act surprised when there are consequences."

"I wasn’t trying to cross any lines," she bit out. "But then I saw my mother’s necklace locked away like it was a piece of decoration. You had no right to have it. No right."

"That necklace was with Lauren. Your mother gave it to her, not you."

Heather’s stomach turned. "My mother wasn’t even alive to give; she left it for me first. Lauren stole it, just like she stole everything that belonged to me."

He didn’t flinch.

"And you," she said, her voice shaking now, "you let her. You watched her. You watched everything she did to me and still managed to act like I was the crazy one. Like I was just some backup plan waiting quietly on the bench."