Chapter 234
KATYA POV
I barely recognized the girl in the mirror.
She stood too still, shoulders drawn in, eyes dull in a way sleep couldn’t fix. The soft light in my bedroom washed over pale skin and dark circles, catching on the faint tension in my jaw like it was sothing solid.
I leaned closer, bracing my hands against the edge of the vanity. I hadn’t slept. Not really.
Every ti I closed my eyes, the night replayed itself in fragnts—Roo’s voice, calm and unreadable.
The weight of his attention. The way the air in the room had shifted the mont my phone rang. Michael’s na lighting up the screen.
I swallowed, my reflection doing the sa a half-second later. I kept thinking about what I’d done wrong.
About what I hadn’t said. About the thousand ways silence could be twisted into guilt in a house like this.
Turning away from the mirror, I tried to drag my fingers through my hair before rembering I had bandages on.
The bed behind looked untouched, the sheets still too smooth for a night that was supposed to have passed.
I’d spent most of it staring at the ceiling, counting breaths, listening for footsteps that never ca. That was almost worse.
A sharp knock sounded at the door, making flinch before I could stop myself.
My heart slamd once, hard, like it had been waiting for the sound all along. I stood there, frozen, eyes fixed on the door as if it might open on its own.
This was it. Whatever Roo had decided.
I smoothed my hands down the front of my clothes, a useless gesture, and forced myself to move.
Each step toward the door felt heavier than the last, like the room itself was resisting. I reached for the handle and paused.
Breathe. I opened the door to see Jas. My eyes narrowed automatically, montarily forgetting about Roo as a mory pushed forward—the cold snap of tal against my wrists, the weight of his grip that night.
I hadn’t forgiven him yet. Not fully. Not even when I knew it wasn’t his fault. He was just following orders. Just doing what he was told by Mr Antonio.
Jas didn’t flinch under my gaze. He never did. Never betrayed the flicker of anything human behind his expressionless mask.
"The Don requests you bring your phone and co to his office," he said, voice flat, neutral. No explanation. No hesitation. Just the order.
Then he turned and left, the door clicking behind him, leaving standing frozen in the hallway.
My chest tightened imdiately, pulse spiking. Roo needed in his office. Not wanted, not asked, not expected. Needed.
Every step back into my room felt heavier, as if my body suddenly rembered all the bruises it carried from both nights, all the tis it had been tested, all the tis I’d been forced to obey.
I grabbed my phone, checking it automatically even though I already knew it was there, already charged, already ready. My hands shook slightly, betraying the calm I tried to force onto myself.
I hadn’t slept, and yet now I had to move. Had to present myself. Had to face whatever Roo was planning next.
The quiet of the house pressed in on , each creak of the floor under my feet making my stomach twist.
I had no idea what he would do. And the thought made my heart pound harder. I stepped into the hallway again, the door closing softly behind , though the sound felt too loud in my ears.
The corridor stretched ahead, long and polished, every frad painting and closed door suddenly familiar in a way that made my skin prickle. Roo’s office was at the end.
I walked slowly, my footsteps muted against the floor, my phone a weight in my hand that felt heavier with every step.
The house was awake but silent. With each pace forward, my thoughts spiraled tighter. I should have taken the check.
The idea ca unbidden, sharp and regretful. I should have signed my na, taken the money, and disappeared before any of this had happened.
Before phones. Before looks. Before being summoned like this. Before Roo. My throat tightened as I stopped in front of his office door.
The wood was dark, solid. Unyielding. Just like everything else about him. I raised my hand and knocked softly, the sound barely more than a whisper against the door.
For a second, there was nothing.
Then.... "Co in."
Two words. Calm. Even. Unhurried. And yet my heart slamd harder against my ribs, the sound of his voice alone enough to make my pulse spike.
I swallowed, fingers tightening around my phone as if it could sohow protect . I pushed the door open.
The office was dimr than the hallway, lit by muted morning light filtering through tall windows.
Roo stood behind his desk, still and composed, jacket immaculate, posture relaxed in a way that made my nerves scream.
His eyes lifted the mont I stepped inside.
And locked onto mine.
The world narrowed instantly. Everything else—the desk, the shelves, the space between us—faded into the background as his gaze held mine with unsettling focus.
I froze in the doorway, breath caught halfway in my chest.
His gaze didn’t soften. It didn’t harden either. It just stayed—steady, assessing, impossible to read.
His hand lifted and he gesture toward the chair opposite his desk.
"Sit." My fingers tightened around my phone as I forced myself to move, stepping fully inside the office and closing the door behind with care, the click of it sealing the space in a way that made my chest constrict.
I walked deeper into the room, every step asured, careful, like I was crossing sothing fragile. The desk lood between us, wide and polished, a barrier that felt intentional.
I lowered myself into the chair he’d indicated. The leather was cool beneath my palms. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him again.
My eyes dropped instead—to the edge of the desk, to my hands resting too stiffly in my lap, to the faint reflection of light on the polished surface.
Anywhere but his face.
††
Building the tension lol.
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