Sweet Hatred Chapter 133: the end (III) final

I took a shower. Shaved. Put on the suit.

Looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the man staring back.

But at least I looked human.

That night, I signed my release forms. They didn’t argue.

I was too quiet, too calm, too cold, just how they liked .

I was a machine. A malfunctioning one, at best.

What scared most wasn’t the pain. It was the quiet. The stillness. The way everyone treated like I was fragile now—sothing broken beyond repair.

But I didn’t need kindness.

I needed soone to see . To hate , maybe. Spit in my face. Remind I was still here. I needed rage. Fire. Sothing.

Because nothing felt worse than nothing. And no one ever looked at the way Ivan did.

No one ever would.

And maybe... maybe I deserved that.

...

The first ti I stepped into the Roman high-rise, sothing inside recoiled. The air slled like polished marble and legacy. It slled like him. My father.

But I walked in anyway, not because I wanted to. Because I had nowhere else to go.

They handed the title of CEO of one of the largest subsidiaries under the Roman empire, XE corp, like a bandage over a severed limb. etings. Deals. Deadlines. Numbers. Contracts. I showed up. Signed things. Stared at people like I was made of stone. And they bowed their heads, too afraid to ask what was missing.

They couldn’t see that I was already gone.

At night, I drank. Smoked. Fucked a bottle more than I ever touched a person.

Mia noticed first.

Sweet, too-perfect Mia with her glossy lips and a face that knew it had confidence. At first, I ignored her—dismissed her flirtations like I would a fly buzzing at my ear. She wasn’t bold enough to catch .

But she got bolder.

Tight skirts. Leaning too close. Subtle glances. She laughed at everything I said even when I hadn’t said anything. And maybe... maybe I let her get away with it because she was trying.

She was trying to pull sothing human out of . And I was desperate enough to let her.

The first ti I fucked her, I didn’t say a word. Just bent her over my desk, gripped her throat, and took what I needed.

She moaned like she mattered. I closed my eyes and imagined a different voice.

It didn’t work. But I kept doing it anyway. I wasn’t chasing pleasure. I was chasing a heartbeat. A pulse. Anything to remind I still had one.

Until her.

Until that day.

When I was with Mia again, the way I always was—rough, chanical, dead behind the eyes. Her nails scratched at the desk like they wanted sothing more. Connection. aning.

She wasn’t going to get it. My eyes drifted to the window. I was thinking about paperwork.

And then the door opened. I could never forget. Mia gasped beneath , trying to pull her skirt down, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

She was standing there. Eyes blazing. Jaw clenched. The kind of anger that felt holy. Aria. And for the first ti in a long ti, sothing inside snapped awake.

My heart didn’t beat—it roared.

I pulled out of Mia, barely registering her panicked whimper, and stood up like I’d been caught mid-murder. My gaze never left Aria. God, she was incandescent—rage glowing off her like heat off a wildfire. Her lips were parted, chest heaving, and her disgust? Her hatred?

It made my knees weak. She looked at like she wanted to bash my head against the wall over and over till it was nothing but brains and blood.

I felt alive.

And then, just like that... it was gone.

The mory.

The blood.

Ivan.

The noise of it all faded, leaving only the sound of birds chirping in the trees around us. A gentle breeze rustled the linens of the table, carrying the scent of basil and roasted garlic. My jaw was tight. My palms were resting flat on my thighs beneath the table, clenched, still trembling faintly from the weight of a past that had taken far too much from .

Yet... sohow, it hadn’t taken everything.

Because she was here.

Aria.

Sitting beside , unaware of how much she was holding together without even trying. Or maybe she knew. Maybe she always knew. Or I just secretly wanted her to.

The ache in my chest hadn’t dulled. It never did. Ivan’s na still carried the sting of loss, of guilt, of all the things I should’ve said but didn’t, all the things I should’ve done but failed to. And yet...

Yet, when I looked at Aria, I felt that impossible, painful flicker again—the sa one I felt the first ti I kissed him. The way that kiss had soothed sothing inside I didn’t know was screaming. The way it had shattered right after.

That sa feeling was back. It has been here for a while.

And it terrified .

Because I thought I’d buried it with him. That whatever was left of wasn’t capable of loving again. That it died on that bloodstained dirt, with Ivan’s breath leaving his body in my arms.

But Aria—God, Aria—she reminded I was still alive. Every ti she looked at like I was more than a na, more than the heir to a cold empire. Every ti she touched like I wasn’t cursed.

She was fixing sothing she didn’t break. Healing parts of I’d long given up on.

And I hated that.

I hated how good it felt.

Because I knew what happened to the people I let in.

Still, I wanted to let her in.

I wanted it so badly, it hurt.

And maybe that’s what fucked up the most, realizing it wasn’t just sex anymore. Not for . God, it hadn’t been for a while now. I wanted her constantly, like—every second of the day, like I couldn’t breathe without thinking about her.

I wanted to be everywhere around and inside her all the ti, not just because she made lose my goddamn mind, but because it felt like the only place I ever—I ever mattered. Like I was safe there. Like I was sothing she wanted to keep. And I think that’s what ruined . That I needed it. That I needed her.

I let out a slow breath, not even realizing I’d been holding it, until sothing soft touched my cheek.

Her fingers.

I blinked.

She was leaning toward , her brows drawn tight, lips parted. Her thumb gently brushed the tear I hadn’t even known had slipped free.

My chest twisted, and I gave her a soft, crooked smile. One that carried the weight of everything I couldn’t say just yet.

And in her eyes, there wasn’t judgnt or pity.

Only warmth.

Like she’d seen everything... and chose to stay anyway.