Sweet Hatred Chapter 305: Office

I hadn’t planned this. At least, that’s what I kept whispering to myself. But sohow my feet had carried here like they belonged to soone else.

The closer I got to the entrance, the heavier my chest beca, my guilt and grief pressing down like weights. I didn’t know if I wanted to confront him, scream at him, or just catch the smallest glimpse of his face... just to know. Just to confirm whether he was still mine in so twisted way, or if I’d already lost him for good.

And God, I didn’t even know which truth would hurt more.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chi, and for a second, my lungs forgot how to work. The last floor. I wasn’t even supposed to be here... this wasn’t where the monthly executive eting would take place. But my feet had betrayed , dragging here anyway, like I needed proof that he was still real.

And then I saw her.

"Miss Thorne?"

I blinked. Rose. Kael’s secretary. Young, bright-eyed, always so eager to please. The girl had probably only just graduated college, but she carried herself with the sa sharp efficiency Kael demanded from everyone who worked near him.

Her face lit up the mont she recognized , the formal address lting into sothing warr. "It’s really you! I haven’t seen you in so long... since that day you ran out after... um..." she trailed off delicately, clearly rembering the frantic way I’d bolted weeks ago when Olivia’s call had co.

I pasted a tired but practiced smile on my face. "Yeah. Sorry about that, Rose. Things got... hectic."

She shook her head quickly, too respectful to pry. "I’m just glad you’re back, Miss Thorne. Everyone’s missed you around here."

Everyone. My throat tightened. I knew she really ant him.

As if on cue, she lowered her voice, leaning in slightly like she couldn’t help herself. "Mr. Roman is in his office right now, but..." her eyes darted to the polished oak doors, "...he’s with Mr. Rothschild, Mada Gauthier, and a few shareholders from Fujimoto Group. They flew in this morning."

My stomach twisted so violently I had to keep my hands steady against the strap of my bag. He was in there. Just a few feet away.

"Right," I murmured, forcing my voice not to crack. "Of course."

Rose, oblivious to the storm in my chest, brightened again. "And, um... about your pending reports. Don’t worry, Miss Thorne. Mr. Roman personally handled them himself while you were away. He didn’t even assign them to anyone else."

I froze.

Handled them. Personally.

Kael, who couldn’t even stand people wasting his ti with minor details, had taken my workload and carried it himself. Quietly. Without asking. Without telling .

The urge hit so hard once again it nearly staggered ... this desperate need to see him, to tear into that office, to demand answers, to beg for clarity, to just... breathe the sa air as him. Just like that night.

But I didn’t.

I smiled faintly at Rose, the edges trembling. "Thank you. Really."

She dipped her head respectfully, returning to her desk like nothing had shifted in the world. But mine had.

I glanced toward his office doors again, pulse thundering. Thirty minutes until the big monthly eting. Thirty minutes before the hallway would clear, before the sharks swam back into their holes.

And then... then before or after...I’d have him alone.

Or at least, I’d try.

The clock on the wall ticked louder than it had any right to.

Every second dragged its feet across my nerves, grinding them thinner and thinner until I could barely sit still. I’d planted myself in my own office, the door half-shut, my back pressed against the cool glass of the window.

And still, I couldn’t breathe right.

Every sound outside twisted tighter. Footsteps. Laughter. Doors creaking open. The low murmur of foreign accents as investors drifted down the hallway, one by one, their shoes tapping on the marble.

Each ti, my heart lurched... was it him? Was he leaving? Would I miss him?

I pressed my palms into my knees, staring at the grain of the polished desk like it might anchor . But nothing did. My thoughts spiraled, ruthless and jagged.

What if he’d already replaced ? What if the girl in his arms ant sothing real? What if I was just a ghost clinging to the man who had already let go?

I tried to swallow, but my throat was sand.

More voices filtered through, muffled but clear enough, deep timbres of n, one sharp feminine laugh. The eting was ending. My pulse stuttered as heels clicked against the floor, the heavy oak doors opening, then closing again.

Then silence.

It was so sudden it made my ears ring.

And then, him.

His voice. Low. Even. Commanding in the way only Kael’s voice could be. "That’ll be all."

My stomach dropped straight through the floor.

Air caught sharp in my lungs, refusing to move.

For a beat, I stood frozen, hand tightening on the edge of the sleeves of my blazer that had grown too big for , nails biting into the fabric. Don’t move, don’t embarrass yourself, don’t,

But my body betrayed before my brain could stop it.

I was on my feet.

My hand was on the door handle.

And I opened it.

There he was.

Kael Roman.

Standing just down the hallway, outside his office, as if the universe had stripped every barrier away in a single cruel sweep. His head turned, those storm-dark green eyes lifting, locking straight on .

And I... couldn’t breathe.

For a second, I thought maybe my heart just... stopped.

Because there he was, Kael.

Tall, broad-shouldered, the weight of his suit fitting him like it had been sewn onto his skin. His tie was slightly loosened, the top button of his shirt undone like he’d just wrestled through hours of suffocating conversation. His hair was pushed back carelessly, a few strands falling loose, like he hadn’t bothered to ta them after running his hands through it.