Chapter 135 Chapter 135

Chapter 135 Chapter 135
Instinctively, without taking her eyes off the telescope, she picked up the phone and answered the call without checking the caller ID.
“Who is it?” Her voice sounded lazy and cold.
The silence on the other end of the line lasted a split second. And then, a deep, grave, and unmistakably magnetic voice vibrated through the speaker, sending an instant shiver straight down Katherine’s spine.
“It’s me.”
Katherine Lutz froze. She looked away from the telescope’s lens, straightened her back immediately, and looked at the phone’s display glowing in the dim light.
And there it was. The name glowing on the screen. João Arbex calling.
Her heart skipped a beat, pounding against her ribs in an annoyingly teenage way. She brought the phone back to her ear, swallowing hard, completely at a loss for words.
On the other end of the line, miles away, a low, hoarse, soft laugh could be heard. The sound seemed to caress her eardrums.
“My little fox…” João murmured, amusement coloring his somber tone. “Why aren’t you speaking? Did the cat eat your sharp tongue?”
Katherine closed her eyes, struggling to maintain control of her breathing and her usual icy tone.
“You’re the one who called me, Mr. Arbex. The burden of the conversation is yours,” Katherine replied, impeccably calm.
João seemed to ignore her wall of ice.
“How’s your studying going for tomorrow’s test?”
Katherine looked at the steaming bowl of instant noodles.
“Not bad.”
He pressed on, his voice dropping a notch, sounding more intimate:
“Do you grasp the advanced material easily, or do you need a private tutor?”
Katherine furrowed her perfect eyebrows. She knew very well who had prepared that brilliant material and what he was insinuating.
“You traveled across the country on business and called me late at night just to ask about my academic performance?” she said sarcastically.
João Arbex didn’t answer immediately.
The line went silent in terms of words, but not in terms of sound. The silence was filled only by the sound of the man’s slow, controlled, shallow breathing. It was a raw sound, dangerously close to the microphone. Inexplicably intimate. Inexplicably seductive. As if he were lying in bed next to her, and not hundreds of miles away.
Katherine’s face flushed. She lowered her gaze to the floor, her heart racing from the invisible tension that man could create using only silence.
After waiting agonizing seconds under the weight of that breathing, she could no longer bear the heavy silence.
“If you have nothing else to say, I’m going to hang up and eat. Good night.”
Her hand made the motion to push the phone away and end the call.
But his deep, authoritative voice cut through the air, quick as a silk whip:
“Are you free now, Katherine?”
Katherine switched the phone to her other hand, resting it on her shoulder as she stirred the steaming pasta delicately with her fork.
— Maybe — she replied, her voice laced with lazy nonchalance.
There were a few seconds of thick, appraising silence on the other end of the line. And then, with the precision of a predator that sees in the dark, João asked abruptly:
— Are you eating instant noodles?
Katherine froze with the fork in mid-air. She looked down at the bowl, quite surprised. How on earth did he guess that from miles away?
“Yes. Super-spicy instant noodles. Why?”
“I clearly remember that the fridge in that lab was very well stocked with fresh ingredients and expensive cuts of meat.” His voice revealed a slight hint of frustration and disapproval, as if he were scolding a stubborn child who refuses to eat her vegetables.
“Fine, but I think instant noodles taste great,” Katherine retorted defensively.
“Do they taste great, or are you just too lazy to cook something decent for yourself?” João teased, hitting the mark perfectly.
Katherine choked slightly, indignation rising to her cheeks.
“What’s going on, anyway?” She chose to get straight to the point, changing the subject to hide her embarrassment. “You didn’t call me just to check up on my diet, Mr. Arbex.”
Once again, silence filled the line, but this time it was accompanied by a faint rustling. The sound of wood brushing against fabric. The sound of someone settling in.
Katherine furrowed her brows, her curiosity piqued. What is he doing in the middle of the night?
“Do you like music?” he asked, his deep voice suddenly sounding as the subtle rustling continued.
Katherine’s curiosity grew even more. She leaned back in the leather chair.
“There isn’t a sane person in this world who doesn’t love music.”
“Right.” She could almost “hear” the charming smile forming on his lips on the other end. “Then give me five minutes. Just listen.”
As she tried to guess what the cold, ruthless tycoon of the Arbex Group was up to, the surprise took Katherine’s breath away during the silence that followed.
The soft, strummed, acoustic sound of a guitar traveled through the satellite network across thousands of miles until it reached her ear. The chords were clean, played with a melancholic and profound mastery. The slightly hoarse notes of the steel strings, combined with the serenity and beauty of the night seen through the skylight, formed an absurdly perfect harmony.
João Arbex, the Ice King, was playing the guitar for her.
Katherine held the phone against her cheek with both hands, listening in absolute silence. She felt a strange, warm, and unfamiliar wave wash over her armored chest.
It was an intoxicating, gentle sensation, as if she were slowly falling into a sea of night-blooming flowers while gazing at the vast starry sky above. Her heart beat to the rhythm of that solitary melody.
Only after the last note vibrated and faded into the air did she slowly return to reality.
The male voice, now incredibly close, low and soft, sounded through the speaker:
“Did you like it, my little fox?”
She paused for two long seconds, trying to control her own voice so it wouldn’t sound affected.
“What song is that?” Katherine asked. The instrumental melody seemed extremely familiar, like an echo on the tip of her tongue.
“The original artist’s name is Ray,” João said.
Katherine searched her photographic memory, but still couldn’t remember the lyrics or the exact title.
At that moment, a very faint and muffled voice, which seemed to belong to Marcus, the assistant, echoed in the background of João’s audio:
“Mr. Arbex, the car is ready. It’s time to go to the meeting.
The man’s breathing on the phone became a soft whisper, laden with a reluctance he rarely showed.