Chapter 131 We are getting married
~Hermes~
My steps falter for half a second as the memory flickers through my head —
~Please don’t leave me.
The words echo so clearly it feels like they were never just a dream.
My pulse spikes.
Did I say that out loud last night?
Shit.
I force my features still, dragging my gaze to Natalya, who’s flashing her bright, rehearsed smile at them.
Natalya laughs at something Tobias says, smooth and effortless. There is no sign of suspicion. No simmering anger. No quiet, poised vengeance — the kind she’s famous for.
If she heard me mention June’s name, she wouldn’t be smiling.
June wouldn’t even be here. Natalya would’ve made sure of that.
So maybe… I didn’t say her name. Maybe I only said don’t leave me.
Maybe it was nothing.
I school my expression — neutral, CEO-like — and follow Natalya to the table, pretending not to notice how June’s shoulders stiffen when I sit beside her.
A camera flashes somewhere to my right.
Reporters. Great.
I can’t look at June. Not now. Not when Natalya’s laughing and the sound feels like a warning in disguise.
If she knows… I’ll see it in her eyes.
But for now, she’s calm.
The table is already set: trays with burgers, fries, and drinks. My stomach knots, not from hunger, but from the fact that I don't have any control of this situation, which I'm supposed to be used to, because lately I don't have control of anything.
Natalya leans slightly toward me, whispering just loud enough for me to hear:
"You still take your burgers with no cheese, right?"
I raise an eyebrow, glancing at her. She doesn’t know. A little smirk tugs at my lips, but I keep it hidden.
June, catching the hesitation, tilts her head, correcting softly:
"Actually, he prefers it with cheese now. Swiss, if they have it."
Natalya freezes for a fraction of a second, masking it with her practiced smile. "Oh right, I was kidding—"
Tobias, completely oblivious to the tension radiating from me, slides June’s tray slightly closer to her, straightening the napkin. "Here, you’ll need this," he murmurs, light, friendly, like a gentleman should.
My jaw tightens. Every small movement, every polite word, is a punch to my chest. I force myself to breathe evenly. I deserve these. I deserve all these.
He asks, casually, leaning toward her:
"You prefer your burger like this, right?"
June nods politely, a small smile gracing her lips. Nothing more, just polite, but my chest burns anyway.
Natalya’s eyes flick toward me, pretending to adjust her hair. I can feel her scrutiny under the guise of casual conversation. She doesn’t speak — not yet — but I know she’s observing, testing. Her smile is effortless, her demeanor perfect, like a real actress.
I force my gaze to the tray in front of me, pretending to analyze the fries, but every fiber of me is aware: June’s hands brushing against Tobias’s as he passes her drink, the way her shoulder shifts when he leans in slightly, the way she laughs softly at his joke.
A flash goes off to my right. Another camera. I stiffen, my teeth grinding just slightly. We’re “showing humility,” playing normal. But inside, my thoughts are chaos.
I catch June’s eyes from the corner of my vision. She doesn’t meet mine. Smart girl. Smart. Smart.
"Don’t forget, people," Natalya says lightly, "act natural. Remember, the cameras are watching."
She leans back slightly, the bright cafeteria lights catching the gleam in her eyes. "So… who’s excited for the gala?" she asks, voice light but carrying that unmistakable undertone — she’s setting the pace.
Tobias grins, already sliding into the role she’s given him. "I am," he says, glancing at June. “
"It’s going to be… fun, I think."
Natalya tilts her head, her smile widening. "And Tobias… who’s going to be your plus one?"
Tobias hesitates just for a beat before turning toward June, his expression easy, polite. "Well… I was hoping…" He gestures toward her with a charming tilt of his head. "Would you like to be my plus one?"
Great. Another sour sight to see.
June freezes for a split second, then forces a polite smile. She nods once, precise. "Sure. I… I’d like that," she says, her voice measured.
Feeling pleased with herself, Natalya spins slightly in her chair, letting the moment linger, before turning her attention toward me. "And Hermes… my fiancé," she says, exaggerating the word for effect, "will you be my plus one?"
I force a smile, neutral, detached. I don’t look at June — she’s too busy trying to eat her hamburger without drawing attention, stuffing it down as if she can swallow this entire tableau.
Then Natalya drops it, like a bomb detonating softly across the cafeteria: "You know the date for our wedding has already been set. We're getting married in a week."
I turn sharply, not expecting that. We didn't discuss anything.
What the fuck is she talking about?
My brows raises at her in a subtle way, but she ignores the gesture. Just great.
The cafeteria erupts. Some employees clap, a few whistle, whispers ripple across the tables like wildfire. Cameras flash from every angle, catching every reaction, every twitch.
Tobias is the first to react, clapping with a broad, oblivious smile. He even leans slightly toward June, as if to include her in the celebration. My jaw tightens. The way he hovers over her, so polite, so gentlemanly, makes my blood burn.
June chokes mid-bite, her hands shaking slightly as Tobias jumps in, thrusting a water bottle toward her. My grip tightens on the table edge, an impulse rising to stand, to step forward and help, but my eyes catch Tobias’s concerned gaze and I stop.
Control. Always control.
Natalya’s tone softens, just a fraction. "June… are you okay?" she asks, tilting her head, still smiling but now careful. She waves subtly at the cameras. "Stop filming for a minute, please."
I want to ask her the same thing, but my instincts scream caution. Natalya knows something. I know she does. Or at least she suspects. If only I could remember everything from last night…
And then — a sharp pain shoots across my skull. My teeth clench. I groan, holding my head, trying to contain it.
Natalya’s smile falters, replaced by genuine concern. "Hermes… are you okay?"
I can’t speak. Words fail me.
And then June, panicked, covers her mouth, her eyes wide. "Hermes… are you okay?" she blurts, her voice shaking.
Her eyes lock on mine, full of alarm, and instinctively, I want to stand, to reach her, to say something — anything. But the cafeteria, the cameras, the employees’ eyes — everything freezes me in place.
I can’t tell if my body is betraying me or if this is just the world catching up with the truth.
My pulse pounds so hard I can hear it. Every beat feels like it’s pushing against the inside of my skull, begging to escape.
In the blur of noise — claps fading, chatter dimming — I catch the shift of attention. Tobias and Natalya both turn their heads toward June.
And June… she’s still looking at me. Eyes wide, panic trembling in her pupils. Her lips part like she wants to say my name again but stops herself, remembering where we are.
From the corner of my vision, I see Natalya’s lips twitch. A smile. Subtle. Sharp. Knowing.
Shit.
My chest tightens. I can almost hear the echo — June, please don’t leave me — and now it’s not just a memory, it’s a death sentence.
She knows.
Natalya knows.
I exhale shakily, trying to mask it with a sigh, but my vision sways. The lights above blur into streaks. The pain behind my eyes sharpens into something cruel.
Not now. Not here.
I blink once. Twice. Everything tilts.
The last thing I see is June’s face — startled, worried — before the darkness swallows everything whole.