Chapter 306: "It’s Over."
He looked exhausted. Remote. Yet somehow still so devastatingly composed that it made my chest ache.
God, he’d always carried the room like this. Even a hallway bent toward him, like it belonged to him.
My eyes dragged over the sharp line of his jaw, the veins corded faintly in his hands where they hung at his sides, the faint crease between his brows. Every detail screamed familiarity and distance all at once.
And then his eyes locked on me.
Those beautiful eyes I’d spent too many nights dreaming about.
The silence between us stretched... thick, suffocating, like a glass wall that neither of us wanted to break. My lungs burned with the weight of all the things I wanted to say. I opened my mouth, desperate, reckless enough to try...
But his voice cut in first.
"The meeting is about to start." His tone was cool. Controlled. That voice that made even walls listen.
His gaze didn’t waver, but it was unreadable, closed off in a way that made my stomach twist.
"Why aren’t you in the conference room yet?"
Just like that, every breath I’d fought to find, gone again.
"I wanted to..." My voice shook, just a little. "See you. Privately."
For a fraction of a second, I swore something flickered in his eyes, but then it was gone, replaced with the coldest mask I’d ever seen on his face.
"The meeting is about to start." His tone was sharp, clipped, like a blade carving distance between us. "Whatever issues you have with me, bring them up later."
And just like that, he stepped past me. His shoulder brushed the air where I stood, and then he was already at the elevator, his hand sliding into his pocket as the doors slid open.
He didn’t look back.
I stood there, frozen, breath caught somewhere between my lungs and throat. My pride felt like shattered glass beneath my ribs, cutting with every inhale. But what use was pride? Ego? When Kael had just treated me like any other staff member in this building?
It was almost laughable, how I’d once told him to stay away. And now... now it was him. Not in words, but in everything else. The line he drew was clearer than ink.
I tried to summon anger. To bite down on the humiliation clawing at my chest. But all it melted into was hurt. And guilt. Because what right did I really have?
I forced myself into the conference room before I could fall apart.
Kael was already there, seated at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. The aura he carried made everyone else fade to background noise, but I still found myself slipping glances at him, searching for cracks in that armor. Nothing. Just stone.
The meeting began. Numbers. Budgets. Profits. Expansion into new territories. My ears caught phrases like "quarterly projections" and "divisional mergers," but my mind was elsewhere, stuck on the hallway, on the steel edge in his voice.
Still, I had to keep up. I was staff here. One mention of my name, and I nearly jumped in my chair.
"Aria Thorne will oversee the preparations for the Roman Group’s fiftieth anniversary gala."
I blinked. "Yes. Understood."
A murmur of approval. Pens scribbling. Someone went on about the Roman Empire. A conglomerate so powerful it made governments bend, one of the richest parent companies in the world. The kind of wealth that didn’t need the spotlight; the kind that could pay Forbes itself to keep the Romans’ name quiet. Too big, too dangerous, too untouchable.
And I was supposed to help plan their celebration.
The meeting eventually ended, executives filing out in waves. Kael was immediately swallowed by his people, assistants, advisors, department heads, talking at him, handing him files. I waited, heart hammering, until the tide finally dispersed.
And as he stepped away, his presence filling the doorway,
"Kael," I called, my voice catching.
His stride faltered.
I took a step closer. Too close, maybe, but I needed him to see me, needed to find something, anything, in those eyes.
But all I found was exhaustion. That same quiet, bone-deep weariness that made guilt pinch in my chest for stopping him at all. For a moment, I almost stepped back. Almost let him go.
But the need for assurance was stronger. Desperate.
His gaze dropped briefly, then returned to mine, steady and guarded. "If this is about work, then you should, "
"It’s not." The words burst out, firmer than I felt, trembling with every ounce of dignity I was still clinging to.
I forced myself to keep going, voice cracking at the edges. "I know I told you to stay away. But I didn’t think you’d actually take me seriously."
Because in my head, Kael had always done the opposite of what I asked. He lived for my protests, my reactions. He fed off them, pushed me to the edge just to watch me unravel.
But now... nothing.
No warmth.
No teasing.
No flicker of wickedness in his eyes.
Just exhaustion. Like a wall I couldn’t climb.
And maybe that was the answer I had been looking for all along, screaming right at me, but I couldn’t bear to accept it. The questions burned in my throat: about him, about me, about her. That girl whose mouth he didn’t push away. But none of them came out.
Instead, I whispered, "Are you alright?"
He scoffed softly. The sound cut through me, sharp and humiliating.
My face heated. "What’s so funny?"
But he didn’t answer. He turned and started for the door, leaving me stranded in the silence.
I followed before I could think better of it. "Kael, "
He stopped, his back to me. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and cold, each word measured like a blade.
"You don’t need to worry about me anymore Aria." He glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. "Just focus on your work. On getting better."
My chest tightened, breath caught somewhere between anger and panic.
And then his voice dropped, final and merciless.
"As for the contract... the leash I’ve had on you... that twisted arrangement between us..."
He faced me fully this time, his eyes a storm I couldn’t enter.
"It’s over. You’re free now."