Sweet Hatred Chapter 167: Back to work pt 2

...

Now, back in the taxi, I sighed and turned toward the window.

"I don’t know," I murmured. "Sotis I think maybe he does. Sotis I think it’s just... power gas to him."

"But you care about him."

It wasn’t even a question. I didn’t deny it. I couldn’t. Because the truth had sunk in over the weeks like water soaking through paper. I loved him. And now that I knew it, I couldn’t un-know it.

I was aware of it in the way my chest ached when I heard his na. In the way my body reacted when I rembered his touch. In the way I still checked my phone, hoping to see his na light up even though I told myself I didn’t care.

I was aware of it now more than ever. And I knew—I knew—that if I didn’t get it under control, it would ruin . I needed to kill it before it killed . Because Kael Roman didn’t belong to anyone. And I couldn’t afford to be the girl who forgot that. Not again.

The elevator ride felt longer than usual.

Maybe it was the nerves. Maybe it was the way Sarah kept sneaking little glances at like she was holding back a smirk.

"What," I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Nothing."

"Sarah."

She grinned. "Okay, fine. I was just wondering how long it’ll take before you start fantasizing about your boss again."

My mouth dropped open. "I do not—"

"You literally just sighed into your coffee while whispering his na under your breath."

"I did not."

"You did. I swear on my eyebrows, Aria. Don’t make reenact it."

I covered my face with my hand, heat rushing to my cheeks. "God, I hate you."

She giggled. "No, you don’t. You love . And you really want that man. Don’t even lie."

I didn’t say anything.

She didn’t need confirmation. It was written all over . It always had been.

The elevator chid and opened.

Ga face on.

We stepped out and made our way through the glass halls of XE Tower. So heads turned, either out of sympathy or surprise, but no one said anything. I nodded politely, adjusted my heels, and kept walking.

When we reached my floor, I waved Sarah off and headed toward my office.

That’s when I saw Rose.

"Morning," she greeted, standing from her desk like she’d been preparing for this mont all morning. "Welco back, Ms. Throne. There are a few things on your plate—Mr. Roman’s been out of the country for a large-scale acquisition negotiation. So, you’ve got several pending project revisions, two high-priority client proposals, and at least one partnership renewal that’s waiting for your feedback."

I blinked. "Damn. I’m not even through the door yet."

She gave a sympathetic smile. "Glad to have you back."

I opened my office door and stepped inside and then paused.

Sitting on my desk was a deep navy-blue box with a ribbon so black it shimred.

My na was handwritten on a cream envelope tucked beneath it.

I frowned, walking over and picking up the card.

"Welco back. I know you don’t fancy flowers. So I got you sothing you’d actually enjoy. —K"

I pulled open the box and imdiately exhaled a breathy "holy shit."

Inside was a rare bottle of Château Lafite Rothschild 1982. Pristine. Untouched. Easily worth more than my rent for a year. Maybe more.

I couldn’t even rember telling him I liked this vintage, hell, I couldn’t even rember ever saying it out loud. I must’ve ntioned it once. Offhand. In passing.

And yet.

He rembered.

The blush that rushed to my cheeks was imdiate and stupid. What if he just saw how much of an alcoholic I was back in Ro? That too could be plausible.

I looked around, half-convinced soone was watching fall apart over an inanimate object. But the room was empty. It was just , the wine, and the damn echo of his signature.

How did he even get this here if he’s not back yet?

I set the bottle down carefully and sat, my chest tight in that annoying way it always got when he did sothing that made feel seen.

The sky outside was unusually bright for a Monday morning. There was warmth in the air even though it had been raining a lot more lately. A breeze that drifted through the barely cracked windows and brushed against my skin like it was telling , It’s okay to feel good today.

I closed my eyes for a mont and let it wash over .

Then, of course, my brain decided to betray .

I imagined him, Kael, standing behind . His hand slipping around my throat, thumb brushing the pulse just beneath my jaw. That slow, taunting way he’d tilt my chin back while he drove himself inside , dragging it out just to hear beg.

God. Forgive mother. Your daughter is thinking about getting pounded not even up to three months after your death.

I squeezed my thighs together and leaned back in my chair, biting my lip.

A knock shattered the thought like glass.

"Ms. Thorne?" Rose’s voice drifted through the door. "Do you want to start forwarding the project briefs now?"

I cleared my throat and adjusted my blouse like I hadn’t just been ntally railing myself with my boss.

"Y-Yeah. Go ahead," I called out, voice a little higher than it should’ve been.

She left.

And I sank further into my seat with a groan, dragging my hands down my face.

This is gonna be a long ass day.

.....

I was barely halfway through the one hundredth and sothing docunt when my phone buzzed across the desk again.

I rubbed my eyes, my neck sore from leaning over paperwork all day. I hadn’t taken a proper break since morning. Rose had dumped a stack of new project briefs, vendor contracts, and minor HR approvals on my desk, and I’d stubbornly decided to clear every single one of them today. Even Sarah had poked her head in two hours ago, expecting us to leave together like we always did but I waved her off, claiming I needed to catch up.

Truth was, I needed the noise.

Work was easier than going ho to the noise of my own head. Easier than facing the ache under my ribs and pretending I was fine when I wasn’t. My mother’s death, my father’s sudden appearance, everything still clung to like static—quiet, invisible, but impossible to shake off. So I worked. And worked.

Until, of course...

Kael.