Chapter 25
My tense nerves gradually relaxed under his abnormal, deceptively gentle behavior.
Physical exhaustion and the intense emotional rollercoaster from earlier hit me all at once. Wrapped in the warm, soft blanket, what lingered around me was no longer his hostile energy.
Instead, it was that familiar woody scent from his body, which now felt strangely comforting.
I suddenly found myself craving this brief moment of false peace.
My eyelids grew heavy, my consciousness began to blur, as if I was about to sink into this sudden trap of tenderness.
Just as my defenses were about to completely collapse, just as sleep was about to capture my consciousness, a thought suddenly flashed through my mind.
His unusual gentleness tonight, his sudden restraint, his patient waiting right now—what was it all for?
Could it be because I said I could meet ZeroSpecter?
This guess was like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing that bit of ridiculous warmth in my heart, leaving me cold from head to toe.
I opened my eyes in the darkness, my voice unusually calm because of the truth, hiding a barely noticeable tremor and a tiny bit of hope.
"James." I parted my lips with difficulty, my face pale. "Are you suddenly acting like this because I can meet ZeroSpecter?"
As my words fell, the room sank into dead silence.
I could clearly feel his fingers, which had been stroking my hair, suddenly freeze.
A soft click, and the blinding light from the crystal chandelier instantly drove away all the darkness and intimacy.
James stood up, looking down at me.
The gentleness on his face disappeared like a receding tide, replaced by the familiar, even colder mockery.
As if that gentle, patient man just now was only my imagination.
"Sophia." A cruel curve slowly formed at the corner of his lips, his eyes looking at me like I was a self-deluded clown.
"Who do you think you are? You think I'd treat you differently just because you can meet ZeroSpecter? Stop dreaming!" His words were like ice picks, stabbing hard into my wounded heart.
Hearing these extremely harsh words, seeing his intensified coldness, my heart strangely calmed down instead.
My last bit of ridiculous hope was completely shattered.
Looking at his gloomy face, I suddenly smiled too.
"James." I asked, word by word, each one hitting the ground with force. "What if I told you I am ZeroSpecter? Would you be scared?"
He was obviously stunned for a moment, then acted like he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, looking me up and down, his eyes overflowing with contempt.
"You? ZeroSpecter?" He repeated with a sneer, his laughter full of disdain and absurdity.
"Sophia, there's a limit to overestimating yourself! Besides playing little tricks and being an unqualified housewife, what else can you do? Write code? Be a hacker? What a huge joke!"
His denial was expected, but hearing it firsthand still made my heart feel like it was being pricked by a needle.
My heart ached with each throb.
I blinked, no longer looking at him, turning instead to gaze at the heavy night outside the window, my voice light and airy. "What about Amelia then? Does she deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as ZeroSpecter?"
His tone was firm and decisive, an unquestionable defense. "You're not worthy of being compared to her!"
Hearing that, I closed my eyes and said nothing more.
All the intimacy, all the testing, all the tenderness—even if fake—ended at this moment.
His statement "You're not worthy of being compared to her" was like a final judgment, ending this absurd night.
The last bit of hope I had for him disappeared with it.
My feet pressed into the soft carpet, somewhat unsteady, but I forced myself to straighten my spine.
Walking to the door, hand gripping the doorknob, I paused without turning around, my voice calm without the slightest ripple.
Yet my words were like a carefully calculated stone, thrown precisely at the oppressive silence behind me.
"Why aren't you wearing a maid outfit?"
As soon as the words left my mouth, I heard James's breathing stop behind me.
Immediately after came James's questioning, filled with disbelief and sudden fury, like a beast whose tail had been stepped on. "How do you know about that?"
That was the additional condition I had mischievously proposed—requiring him to wear a maid outfit to the meeting.
This was undoubtedly the greatest humiliation to his high-and-mighty attitude, and the most satisfying part of my revenge plan.
He had agreed, but clearly never intended to actually do it.
I didn't answer his question.
I pulled open the door, walked straight out, and slammed it shut, cutting off all his sounds.
The next morning, when I walked into my office in high heels and pushed open the door, that familiar figure was indeed occupying my seat.
James sat in my office chair with his back to the door, his posture still upright but somehow conveying restlessness.
He was looking out the window, his fingers unconsciously tapping the desk, making dull sounds.
Hearing the door open, he turned around.
Our eyes met.
His eyes were bloodshot, his jawline tense—clearly he hadn't slept all night.
The moment he saw me, a flash of complex emotion crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by scrutiny and interrogation.
I stood in the doorway, arms crossed, fearlessly meeting his probing gaze.
This time, it was my turn to look down on him.
"You work here?" He asked.
"Partner," I said flatly.
He stared at me, as if trying to find traces of lying on my face, but failed.
He took a deep breath, seemingly suppressing some emotion, and changed his question, his tone calm but unable to hide his urgent inquiry.
"Do you actually know ZeroSpecter or not?"
So it was about this after all.
The smile on my face deepened a bit as I responded in a businesslike manner.
"Mr. Smith, consulting requires a consultation fee." My attitude clearly angered him.
His face darkened, his eyes sinister, but surprisingly, he didn't explode. Instead, he smoothly pulled out his wallet from his suit pocket, extracted a thick stack of cash, without even looking, and threw it on my desk.
I took the money and replied with one sentence. "No comment."
"You're playing me!" The veins on James's temples throbbed—clearly infuriated by my teasing.
At that moment, Andrew walked in carrying two cups of coffee, his face showing just the right amount of surprise. "Mr. Smith? What brings you here?"
His tone was gentle as he placed one cup of coffee in front of me and offered the other to James, his actions naturally creating some distance from the tense atmosphere between James and me.
James didn't take the coffee. His cold gaze swept over Andrew before landing back on my face, his eyes looking like they wanted to tear me apart.