Sweet Hatred Chapter 87: No falling In Love

ARIA

I slamd the door behind harder than I needed to.

Not because I was angry. Not really.

But because if I didn’t channel the chaos spinning inside into sothing physical, I was going to start screaming—and maybe fully crashing out—and that was not happening in front of Kael.

I could still feel his stupid eyes on . That cocky little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth like he was proud of himself for getting under my skin again. Like he knew I’d been acting off since the fever. Since that night.

That damn night.

I stord across the hallway, heels loud and fast, then yanked open the door to my office—right across from his—and shut it with a sharp thud.

Safe. Alone. Finally.

I leaned against the door, chest rising and falling, and let myself breathe. Anyone watching would’ve thought I was furious. But the truth? The truth was uglier.

Because all I could think about was that ssage.

Hi darling.

From an unsaved number. Just sitting there on his screen like a slap to the face. No na. No explanation. No context. Just those two words that had been running laps in my head ever since.

I’d told myself it didn’t matter. That it had nothing to do with .

We weren’t exclusive. We weren’t even a thing.

He made that clear from the beginning. No falling in love. No blurred lines. No expectations.

So why the hell did it feel like soone had dropped a brick on my chest when I saw it?

I dropped into my chair. Let out a shaky breath. My hand was trembling slightly, and when I looked down, I realized I was clutching my lighter—flicking it open and shut, again and again.

Click. Fla. Snap.

Click. Fla. Snap.

God. I was losing it. The lighter clicked again in my hand, fla flickering briefly before I snapped it shut with a sharp flick.

Click. Snap. Click. Snap.

Over and over.

It had beco so kind of nervous tic now, the way my thumb moved without thinking—just like the thoughts I couldn’t shut up inside my head.

Hi darling.

I hated how soft the words sounded in my mind. Hated how they kept echoing even though I had no right—absolutely no right—to let them bother .

It wasn’t like Kael owed anything. We weren’t... that. I an, sure, we were wrapped in sheets and sick days and this chaotic intimacy that didn’t make sense half the ti—but he’d never promised love. Hell, he’d explicitly said the opposite.

No falling In love, Aria.

Right. I scoffed under my breath.

Could really use a smoke right now.

This was temporary. A distraction. So insane fever dream of an arrangent that got out of control more than once—but it didn’t an anything.

And yet...

Yet I couldn’t stop wondering who the hell that text was from.

And worse—I couldn’t stop wondering why he hadn’t said anything about it. He had to know I saw it. Right? The way I froze. The way I went quiet. The way I pressed that cold bottle to his forehead and bit back the words burning my tongue.

But he didn’t ask. Didn’t explain. Didn’t even seem to notice.

And maybe that was my answer right there.

I let out a laugh—bitter and short—and realized I’d been flicking the lighter for so long the tal was hot against my skin.

I turned it over in my palm, eyeing the scratched up edges, the faint smudge of his fingerprint that sohow still lingered from that night inside the nightclub.

God. That night.

The slap. His offer. The stupid contract. The way he stole my lighter like he owned from the beginning and I hadn’t even realized it.

How much ti had passed since then?

A few months?

It felt like a lifeti and a half. And yet here I was. Still burning.

I was still staring at the damn lighter like it held the answers to all my problems when the knock ca.

Sharp. Crisp. Annoyingly polite.

"Miss Thorne?" Rose’s voice filtered through the door, smooth and professional, the exact opposite of the chaos inside my head.

I rolled my eyes and muttered, "What now?"

She cracked the door open, all prim posture and tailored suit, not a hair out of place. Her clipboard was practically glued to her chest like it was shielding her from the blast of my irritation.

"Mr. Roman asked if you could review the new strategic proposal for the—" she glanced down, "—Asia-Pacific expansion initiative. He said you’d know what to do."

I blinked. "The what?"

She smiled tightly. "The rger. The one involving XE Tech and Axiom Logistics. The team’s waiting on revisions before it moves to legal."

Of course. A new challenge. rger. A big one. One that would normally take weeks to dissect, and he’d just dropped it on my lap in the middle of emotionally combusting over a text ssage like so unhinged middle schooler.

I clenched the lighter in my palm.

"Tell him I’ll get on it," I said through my teeth, already reaching for my laptop.

"Right away." Rose gave a small nod, like I wasn’t clearly about to set fire to sothing, and backed out of the room.

The door shut with a soft click, and I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly.

Typical Kael. Of course he’d dump a billion-dollar rger in my inbox while pretending everything was perfectly fine. While I was losing sleep wondering who the hell "darling" was, he was out here throwing entire empires at like they were distractions.

And the worst part? I liked it.

The work. The chaos. The numbers. The deadlines. It was better than sitting still and thinking. Better than wondering whether I was already too deep to climb out.

So I shoved the lighter into my drawer, opened the proposal file, and muttered, "I definitely need a smoke later."

The numbers helped—at first.

I sank into them like they were a shield, dissecting projections, margin forecasts, logistical overheads, legal compliance estimates. I drowned in them, grateful for the silence they brought. Every ti the image of his phone screen flashed in my mind—Hi darling—I just cranked the volu of my focus higher, like I could outwork the ache twisting in my chest.

It helped. Mostly.

Until I found myself pausing mid-sentence in a report, wondering how Kael was doing in his office. If his fever was really gone. If he was drowned in pending works and etings like .

I closed the tab and rubbed my temples.

Focus, Aria.

But Kael Roman had a way of bleeding through every crack. Like smoke. Lingering. Suffocating. Every ti I shut a door in my mind, he opened another—usually without knocking.

Before I knew it, the sun had dipped, casting a golden wash across my office windows. My laptop clock blinked 5:37 PM and panic lit up in my chest.

Kaleb.

Shit. His birthday was tomorrow and I hadn’t even bought his present. I was supposed to leave work early to get it and wrap it up before heading over to my place. Now I’d be lucky to make it before every store closed.

I shoved my laptop shut and stood up, tossing papers into my bag without care. I was ntally running through what to buy a turning-eight-year-old boy when I realized I had no Idea what eight-year-old boys were into these days. Dinosaurs? Robots? Fortnite? I could barely keep up with adulting, let alone kid trends.

I groaned softly, yanking my blazer from the chair and adjusting it over my shoulders. My heels clicked toward the door, mind still occupied with the possibility of bribing a toy store clerk for recomndations.

Then the door opened.

I skidded to a stop a second before slamming into him.

Kael.

Of course.

Because even when I tried to get away, the universe had other plans.

He looked like a forbidden fruit in a tailored shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair tousled like he’d just run his hand through it in frustration or... distraction. The way his eyes swept over —lazy, intense—made my stomach clench.

"Leaving already?" he asked, voice low, amused.

And just like that, the lighter wasn’t the only thing threatening to set on fire.

"Yeah?" I deadpanned, throwing him a glare over my shoulder. "And that’s none of your damned business. I’ve clocked out."

I tried to walk past him, brushing his shoulder intentionally harder than necessary—but the bastard was quick. His arm shot out, stopping mid-step, and before I could protest, he was crowding back into my office. One fluid motion. Door shut behind us with the kick of his foot.

I stumbled a little, mostly from surprise, partly from the proximity. He didn’t give a second to catch my breath. That wicked smile tugged at his lips, the kind that said I’m about to make very bad decisions, and then he kissed .

Hard. Deep. Possessive.

I hated that my mouth opened for him like muscle mory. I hated that my body lted before my brain could catch up. I hated that for a second—I forgot.

But the mont that text flashed in my head again—"hi darling"—I yanked him back by the hair.