Chapter 224.
"You’ve been quiet," he says suddenly.
I blink, realizing I’ve been staring.
"I’m eating."
"You usually do both."
"I was thinking."
"That’s usually concerning."
I narrow my eyes.
"You’re annoying."
"And yet," he says smoothly, "you keep following me."
I hate how easily he says that and hate even more that I don’t have an immediate comeback. So instead....i take another bite because silence feels safer.
He notices and though he doesn’t say it....i know he’s amused. Which is deeply irritating.
After another moment, I glance at him again.
"You really work this much every night?"
"Most."
"That sounds miserable."
"It’s necessary."
I study him for a second.
"Do you ever stop?"
He pauses slightly then looks at me.
"Rarely."
Something about that answer feels heavier than it should, like there’s more there but for once....i don’t push. Instead, I just nod slowly and return to my meal and somehow....
Sitting there across from him, in his ridiculously intimidating office, sharing food while the chaos of the club pulses somewhere below us....Feels strangely normal,like maybe normal for us was never supposed to look ordinary at all.
By the time we finish eating, I’m actually... comfortable. Which feels dangerous because comfort around Zane usually means I’m seconds away from either being flustered, annoyed, or both.
He wipes his mouth with maddeningly calm precision, then glances down at his watch.
Immediately, something in him shifts, that softer edge from dinner?Gone.
His expression sharpens, posture straightening slightly as his attention clearly moves elsewhere. He checks the time once more, then exhales.
"I have to go."
I blink.
"I have a meeting."
Right. The meeting....I’d almost forgotten.
He pushes his chair back and stands, gathering his laptop first, then a stack of neatly organized documents from his desk.
Every movement is efficient and purposeful, lik he’s flipping some invisible switch.
I watch him as he gets everything together and though I knew he’d have to work.....a tiny, irrational part of me still feels mildly offended that he’s leaving.
Ridiculous but true.
"How long?" I ask.
He glances at me briefly.
"An hour."
He pauses.
"Two at most."
I narrow my eyes slightly.
"That sounds suspicious."
"It’s work, Elaine."
"Mhm."
He gives me a look, the kind that says I’m already becoming a problem again. Then he walks closer and his tone drops slightly
"Stay here."
I blink.
"What?"
"Inside the office."
I fold my arms immediately.
"Why?"
"Because," he says patiently, though I can already hear the warning under it, "I do not need you wandering around this club by yourself."
I open my mouth but he cuts me off instantly.
"No."
"I didn’t even say anything."
"You were going to."
I frown. Fair.....still annoying though
"I can handle myself."
"I know," he says.
And somehow....That answer catches me off guard, because there’s no mockery there.
But then....
"That doesn’t mean I’m letting you roam unsupervised through my club."
There it is.
I scoff.
"Unsurpervised?"
"Yes.
"I’m not a child."
"No," he says smoothly. "Children are usually easier."
I gasp.
"Wow. You did not."
He ignores that entirely.
"Stay here," he repeats. "Eat. Watch something....read or what ever and try to Cause minimal destruction."
I narrow my eyes.
"You’re very bossy."
"And yet," he says while gathering the last of his papers, "you continue listening."
I hate how smug he sounds but before I can argue again, he steps closer. Close enough now that I actually feel his presence properly.
His gaze locks onto mine and suddenly...Thi feels less playful.
"Elaine.
"Do not go wandering through my club."
I swallow slightly...not out of fear Just...He’s serious, very serious.
And for all my attitud.....i know when to recognize that.
So I sigh dramatically.
"Fine."
His eyes narrow slightly.
"Fine?"
I lift my chin.
"Yes."
He clearly doesn’t fully believe me.
Which.....Okay. Rude, but understandable.
I wave my hand dismissively.
"Go. Do your mysterious important man business."
That almost earns the faintest smirk as he adjusts the documents under one arm, laptop in hand.
Then points at me briefly.
"Inside."
I roll my eyes
"Yes, dad."
His expression immediately flattens.
"Don’t call me that."
And that....That almost makes me laugh, i bite it back poorly. Not well enough, apparently because his stare sharpens. But there’s something dangerously close to amusement there too.
Interesting.
"I mean it," he says one last time.
I nod dramatically.
"I heard you the first twelve times."
He sighs again. I really am going to be the death of this man. Finally, he heads toward the door but just before stepping out...He stops, turns slightly and gives me one final look.
"Behave."
I grin sweetly.
"Always."
He shakes his head once, like he’s accepted whatever headache I’m about to become.
"Little menace."
And then he’s gone, the door closing behind him and suddenly....The office feels much quieter.
I sit there for exactly three seconds, then lean back in my chair, staring at the closed door.
"...Well."
I glance around his office slowly. His rules, his warning and unfortunately....My curiosity is already starting to itch.
The silence lasts all of thirty seconds before boredom starts creeping in. I try, I Close the door being really do.
I sit there in the oversized leather chair, legs crossed, staring at the closed office door like I’m a perfectly obedient wife who fully intends to respect her husband’s instructions.
And for a moment.... I almost convince myself.
Then I sigh. Because honestly? Absolutely not.
"I’m not wandering the club," I mutter to myself as I stand. "I’m just... exploring the office."
Totally different, completely reasonable and if Zane asks.....That’s my story.
I smooth down my dress, then begin roaming again, this time with far more intention. His office is too polished, too carefully put together not to invite curiosity.
Every corner practically begs to be examined.
So naturally..... i do exactly that.
I start with the shelves first. Running my fingers lightly along the spines of books I doubt he has time to read recreationally.
Business.Finance.Negotiation.Psychology and powr.
It’s all painfully on brand.
"Do you own one normal hobby?" I mutter under my breath.
Probably not. I move on.