Chapter 26: Disgruntled

I watched Sarah smirk, that cruel twist of her lips that made something in my chest tighten painfully. “Leave, Sarah,” I’d said, but the words barely carried strength. My voice felt like it belonged to someone else—someone drained, someone who had already lost the battle before it began.

She didn’t move. Of course, she didn’t. Sarah always needed to have the last word, and this time, she had come prepared to wound me.

“That’s what you always do—avoid confrontations,” she threw back, her tone sharp but tainted with that strange, mocking amusement that made me want to scream. “But whether or not you approve, my father being the major shareholder of this company wants an arranged marriage for me. I didn’t like the idea initially, but now I’m considering it.”

Her voice turned silkier, deadlier. “So, dear friend, what do you think will happen when I suggest to be married to Kevin?”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. My heartbeat stumbled, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat like it was trying to choke me. Kevin. Married to Sarah. The thought alone burned through me like acid.

She knew exactly what she was doing—each word was a knife she twisted slowly, deliberately, so I’d feel every inch of it cutting through my composure.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, because if I did, I’d break. The only thing I could do was cling to the only shred of control I had left—cold detachment. My hand reached for the intercom almost on instinct. “Lori,” I said, my voice coming out too tight, too controlled. “Come and get her out of my office.”

Sarah laughed under her breath, the sound bitter and full of disdain. “Why can’t you just give your support already and be happy for me? Now I know you never wanted me to be happy!”

Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit. Once, she was my safe space—the one person who understood the loneliness of trying to be strong in a world that kept testing you. But now, all I could see was someone who had chosen to betray me, not just as a friend, but as someone who knew how deeply I felt and used it against me.

Lori walked in then, poor girl, looking like she was already regretting her first day on the job. The tension in the room was almost visible—thick and heavy, like something alive.

Sarah gave one last scoff, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. “Just so you know, I consider this the end of our friendship.”

And then she was gone—heels clicking against the floor, the door shutting with a hollow thud that felt far too final. Lori hesitated, but I waved her off without looking up.

The silence that followed was unbearable. I could still hear my blood rushing in my ears. The room felt too small, the air too thin. Before I knew it, I was on my feet, pushing the papers off my desk. They fluttered to the floor like broken wings. “Damn it!” The curse tore out of me before I could stop it. My voice cracked halfway through, raw and desperate.

I leaned against the edge of the desk, my breathing uneven, and pressed my palms to my face. “She’s not bluffing,” I whispered to no one. Because I knew Sarah too well. Once she decided she wanted something, she’d fight like hell to get it—even if it meant tearing down everyone in her way.

And now, she wanted Kevin.

I swallowed hard, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t go away. My chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. What happens to me if she succeeds? The thought scared me, but it also ignited something darker inside me—something that refused to lose.

I could already see where this was going. Sarah’s father was a major shareholder. If she played her cards right, she could secure the marriage, seal the alliance, and make me irrelevant—both in love and in business.

No. I couldn’t let that happen.

My father’s wedding to Nina. The merger. The union that was supposed to “strengthen” both families. It was all part of the same tangled web—and I was right in the middle of it, choking.

I knew what I had to do, even if it terrified me. I’d ruin it all—the wedding, the merge, the carefully crafted empire that my father and Nina were so desperate to build. Because maybe, just maybe, it was better to let it all burn than to keep living like this—watching the man I love being taken away in slow motion while I’m forced to smile and pretend it doesn’t kill me.

The guilt hit next—like a tidal wave. I could already see the fallout: my father’s disappointment, the crumbling of the company he built with his own hands, the chaos that would follow. But love makes you reckless, and heartbreak makes you cruel.

If destroying everything was the only way to keep Kevin, then maybe that was the price I had to pay.

Then almost immediately, my phone chimed.

The notification sound was sharp, intrusive — slicing through the silence that followed my storm of thoughts. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath before reaching for the phone, my hand trembling slightly. For a brief second, I wished it was Kevin — maybe a message, something, anything to anchor me. But when I saw my father’s name glowing across the screen, my stomach turned.

“Come home early for dinner, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

—Dad.

I read the message twice, maybe three times, as if the words would somehow rearrange themselves into something less dreadful. But they didn’t. They just sat there, cold and smug, like they knew how much I already dreaded whatever surprise awaited me at home.

My throat went dry. I threw my phone aside, the sound of it clattering against the desk making me flinch. My lips pressed into a thin line as the familiar nausea crept in — the kind that came whenever my father decided to “introduce” someone new into my life. There was always an agenda. There was always something brewing beneath the surface.

I couldn’t sit still. My chair suddenly felt too small, the walls of my office too close. I needed to move, to find Kevin — I needed to see him, to feel something that wasn’t anger or dread. I grabbed my bag and stormed out, barely noticing the startled look Lori gave me as I brushed past her.

Kevin’s office wasn’t far, but the walk there felt endless. My heels clicked sharply against the tiled floor, each step echoing louder than the last. When I reached his office and found it empty, something inside me sank. The air smelled faintly like his cologne — that subtle, intoxicating mix that always made my heart do that stupid flutter. But the chair was empty. His desk was clean. He was gone.

Before I could even turn around, his assistant rushed over, almost tripping over herself. “Mr. Stone is not in, ma’am,” she said quickly, her voice slightly nervous. “He left the office a while ago.”

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair — a gesture that had become almost reflexive whenever I was trying not to lose it. “Did he disclose where he was going?” My tone was sharper than I intended, but patience wasn’t something I had left in me today.

The assistant shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, ma’am. He drove off insisting not to be accompanied by a bodyguard.”

Of course he did. That was Kevin — impulsive, stubborn, reckless when he wanted to be.

“Alright. You can get back to work,” I said, cutting her off before she could say anything else. I needed to breathe. I needed to find him.

I fished my phone out of my bag again and started typing, my fingers moving faster than my thoughts.

“Where did you go? Call me.”

I hit send and immediately started walking again, heading straight for the elevator. My pulse was a mess, my thoughts tangled. The entire day felt like a cruel joke — Sarah’s smug face still burned into my memory, my father’s text replaying like a warning siren in the back of my mind, and Kevin… Kevin just disappearing when I needed him most.

I was staring down at my phone, waiting for his reply that wasn’t coming, when I collided hard with something — or someone.

The impact sent me backward, my phone slipping out of my hand as I stumbled and fell to the cold floor. The jolt of pain in my elbow shot straight up my arm, and for a second, I just sat there, stunned. Then frustration surged up like fire.

“Are you fucking blind?” I snapped before I could stop myself.

I looked up — and froze.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, probably late twenties, dressed in a perfectly tailored tux that screamed expensive taste and smug confidence. His jawline was sharp, his hair slightly tousled in that intentional way men knew looked good, and his expression… blank. Completely blank.

“That’s quite a rude thing to say,” he said calmly, though there was a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice. “Considering your eyes were practically glued to your phone screen.”

His tone was smooth, but condescending enough to make my blood boil.

I snorted, pushing myself off the floor and dusting off my skirt. “Yeah, well, maybe try not standing in the middle of the hallway like a damn statue next time,” I muttered, glaring up at him.

He raised an eyebrow — amused, maybe. The kind of look that said he wasn’t used to people talking back to him.

“Well, maybe try watching where you’re going, ma’am,” he replied, and the way he said “ma’am” made it sound more like an insult than a courtesy.

I wanted to roll my eyes right out of my head. “Whatever,” I hissed under my breath, brushing past him before I said something worse. My heart was still pounding, but not from the fall — from the sheer irritation of the encounter.

I didn’t even look back. I couldn’t. I just needed to get to the elevator and away from everyone and everything.

As the elevator doors slid shut behind me, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirrored panel — hair slightly messy, eyes burning, lips pressed tightly together. I barely recognized myself anymore.

Every part of my life felt like it was spinning out of control — my friendship, my father’s plans, Kevin, everything. And that man, whoever he was, was just another reminder that the universe wasn’t going to give me a break today.