Sweet Hatred -
Chapter 255: Pictures
Chapter 255: Pictures
KAEL
The lounge smelled like old money, fine scotch, and desperation.
I didn’t mind two out of the three.
I sat alone on a velvet armchair, leg crossed over knee, pen between my fingers, and a stack of blood-thick contracts in front of me. They weren’t just business agreements, they were the bones of empires, the veins of future wars, the key to owning silence in places where chaos once ruled.
Across from me, the man was sweating.
He used to be untouchable. The kind of man who made women lower their eyes and men trip over themselves for a seat at his table. But now?
Just another rotting carcass trying to rebrand.
His voice trembled as he spoke, all flowery promises and empty forecasts. I didn’t even look up. I just flipped another page. Scrawled another note. Signed another name that didn’t belong to me.
A quiet knock.
One of my men entered the room and approached, slipping a thin envelope into my hand.
"From Niko, sir," he said.
My pen paused.
I opened it slowly. One by one, I pulled the photographs out, sleek, crisp, timestamped. My girl.
Aria.
Walking out of Sarah’s apartment with her oversized bag. Hair up. Glasses perched. Her face set like she was daring the world to come for her. Then another, her stepping out of a cab with Sarah, on her phone at the entrance of XE.
I swallowed.
Then came the last photo.
Her walking out of the HQ building again, but this time, beside Sylas.
His face angled toward her like he was saying something only she could hear. Her eyes slightly softened, her shoulders relaxed, too relaxed.
I didn’t move.
"Where are the rest?" I asked quietly.
The guard shifted. "That’s all Niko sent."
I stared at him.
He fidgeted. "Sir, he said that it would be... sufficient."
A small smirk crept to my lips. "Clever bastard."
I carefully slid the photos back into the envelope, slow and deliberate, like placing something dangerous back into its sheath. But that image, that one, of her with him, stayed burned behind my eyelids.
"She’s just an employee, right?" I murmured under my breath, voice silk and acid. "Just a woman I use. Nothing more."
Still, something hot coiled in my chest.
Jealousy? Possessiveness?
No.
It was worse.
It was certainty, that Aria belonged to me.
"Mr. Roman?" the desperate man interrupted again. "I’m confident that with your influence, we can realign my company’s projections and—"
"You bribed the judge," I said, interrupting coldly.
He blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You paid him to bury rape charges. Multiple women. You thought the noise would go away if you paid enough. That the world would move on."
He paled.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, voice soft.
"You miscalculated. Not about the public, they’re easy. But me?" I tilted my head. "I don’t fund rats."
"Th-the evidence was circumstantial. I—"
My stare cut him off like a blade to the throat.
The door opened again.
"Sir," another assistant stepped in. "The meeting’s starting."
I stood.
Buttoned my suit.
Looked at the man like he was already halfway dead.
"I’m not interested in helping your dying corporation back on its feet," I said. "I’m interested in making sure it never rises again."
He blanched.
"Take him out of here," I told my men, slipping the envelope back into my inner jacket pocket. "And if he ever contacts this office again, send his tongue in a box to my doorstep."
Two guards moved.
The man sputtered. Begged. But I didn’t hear him anymore.
I had meetings to attend. Men to crush. But most of all, I had her.
Aria. fre.ewebnov el.com
And her little games with Sylas were just starting to piss me off. Again.
....
The boardroom was carved into the top floor of a tower that kissed the sky.
High ceilings. Tempered glass. A long obsidian table with chairs that cost more than most people made in a year. Seated around it were names that made nations kneel, banking empires, oil cartels, pharmaceutical dynasties. Men who ran the world and still pissed themselves over legislation.
The discussion?
A proposed Global Corporate Responsibility Law, a sleek, shiny noose in the making.
If passed, it would enforce new global restrictions on conglomerate holdings, privacy protocols, tax tracing, and off-shore shell dissolutions. Translation? Less control. Less secrecy. Less power.
The old titans were shaking.
"This law is a death sentence," spat one man, thick-necked and red-faced. "It’s a coordinated attempt to dismantle private influence!"
"It’s a smear campaign in disguise," another added, thumping his fist. "They’re targeting legacy houses like ours."
All around the table, the buzzards squawked.
I sat still.
Silent.
Leg bouncing in slow, perfect rhythm under the table.
I didn’t give a damn about the law.
Because I already had five exit plans, six backdoors, and three underground systems if shit ever hit the fan.
I had Zephyrcore.
I had military contracts wrapped in lies.
I had governments on retainer.
So it was almost fun seeing them panic.
I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled under my chin, and let my mind drift,
To her.
To that picture.
Aria.
Smiling, fucking smiling, at Sylas like he’d earned a piece of her. Like he hadn’t just walked in out of nowhere with that cocky smirk and inherited name.
But the envelope.
The missing pieces. I gave him an order to follow her everywhere.
Niko never half-assed his orders.
He left the other photos out on purpose.
Which meant something was in it.
Something I wasn’t supposed to see, or not supposed to see yet. Something I wouldn’t fucking like.
The fucking nerve.
My jaw flexed.
"...Mr. Roman?" someone called my name.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
The door opened.
All heads turned.
Andrew.
Polished shoes. Navy suit. That practiced golden-boy aura, the kind our father loved to parade. His smile was neat. Disarming. A wolf in prep-school sheep clothing.
He strolled in like he owned the place.
"Apologies for the late entry," he said, voice light and smooth. "Father insisted I come. Thought it was time I stopped ’idling’ and learned a few things from my big brother."
The temperature in the room dropped.
A few heads turned to me, quietly waiting for a reaction.
One of the older board members, clueless, brittle, and fucking stupid, actually asked:
"Wait, if Kael’s already here... why send another Roman?"
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