It wasn’t directed at Shiyao, but at the prospect of meeting Kieran.

Her expression turned uncharacteristically cold as she turned away. “I don’t know what you’re thinking. I told you I can handle the negotiations myself.”

That icy demeanor struck Shiyao differently.

Resentment and panic instantly flooded his chest, tightening like a vise.

He gritted his teeth, unable to hold back. “Are you saying I’m overstepping?”

Alarieka frowned. “No, I just meant-”

Shiyao cut her off with a bitter laugh. “Of course you want to go alone. If I tagged along, I’d just block your little reunion with Mr. Argent, wouldn’t I?”

Alarieka almost doubted her ears. “What did you say?”

Shiyao gripped her chair back, yanking it around to face him. He leaned down, hands caging her against the armrests like prison bars, looming over her with smoldering eyes.

“Did I misspeak?” he sneered. “The moment you heard Kieran wanted to meet, you cleared your entire schedule for him.” Jealousy and anger twisted his words. “Alarieka, are you that desperate? Is he some perfect catch? Even married, you still want him?”

Fury ignited in Alarieka’s veins. “Shiyao, do you even hear yourself?!”

His hands flew from the chair to clamp her shoulders. “Tell me I’m wrong! Why must you see him? Are you still hung up on him?”

He couldn’t help it. Just Kieran’s name, just imagining Alarieka meeting him–it dragged every rumor about her past to the surface. He’d never dug into her history, but the internet never forgets. Countless posts about Alarieka, Kieran, and Roschelle’s tangled mess haunted him. He knew better than to trust gossip blindly, didn’t know if she’d truly been obsessed with Kieran as claimed.

But he couldn’t stop the doubts. Not this time.

This was his first real love, the first time a woman’s every smile and frown consumed him. He cared too much. With love, he was childish. Reckless. Too desperate to know her heart, too frantic to prove his place in it. He lost all reason, blurting out everything like some lovesick fool.

Slap!

Alarieka’s blood ran cold. Pure rage seized her. Before thought caught up, her palm cracked across Shiyao’s face.

His voice died. His head snapped sideways, hair falling over his brow, shielding his eyes. Her palm stung from the force. Fury pounded in her temples, chest heaving as she glared at him, teeth clenched in near-hatred.

“I have no idea what’s gotten into you. There’s a line even for nonsense.”

Shiyao hung his head without speaking.

His fair skin showed a distinct palm print blooming on his cheek. Alarieka stared at it, hatred churning hotter inside her.

“Shiyao, get out.” Her voice was ice.

He remained motionless, hand still resting on the back of the chair.

Fury surged through Alarieka. She lashed out with her foot, landing a sharp kick squarely in Shiyao’s abdomen. She didn’t hold back. A low grunt escaped him as he stumbled backward, crashing against the floor-to-ceiling window behind him.

Seeing him like this only irritated Alarieka more. She was the one who’d been inexplicably attacked, yet he was the one playing the victim, looking so pitiful and wronged. She refused to look at him again. Swiveling her chair furiously, she glared at her computer screen, face cold.

A moment later, Shiyao’s voice rasped, “Alarieka… I’m sorry. It was my fault…”

Alarieka kept typing, her expression frozen. “Get lost. Now.”

His voice cracked, “I won’t go. Can’t I stay?”

She didn’t answer, hammering the keys so hard they thundered.

Shiyao lifted his face, gazing at Alarieka with a mix of pain and hurt.

“… Then I’ll go?”

Still, no answer came.