Novel-novel oleh stellopenn

Chapter 86Rohan POVThe silence in my office feels different this morning. It is not the kind of silence I curate or the kind that follows after staff retreat, after doors close, after the house settles into its disciplined rhythm. This silence presses in on me and waits.I sit at my desk with my hands folded over the surface, staring at the files I arranged before I slept last night. The stack is neat, precise, ordered by urgency and consequence. Names, accounts, influence chains, leverage points. This is my world reduced to paper and ink, a sort of power translated into something I can hold, rearrange, and control.This is supposed to steady me. Instead, my attention keeps drifting to the empty chair across from me. Ella sat there once. She did not ask permission. She walked in like the room belonged to her, looked at the shelves behind me, and asked if I owned anything in this house that did not taste like discipline. I remember the way her mouth curved when she said it, half-smil

Chapter 85Ella POV I slipped into the dimly lit bathroom of the upscale restaurant, my heels clicking softly on the tiled floor. The date night with Rohan had been electric from the start and now his eyes were fixated on me, his hand brushing my thigh under the short gown I wore. I needed a moment to freshen up, and the next, as I leaned over the sink, adjusting my tight black dress, the door creaked open. Rohan stepped in, locking it behind him with a wicked grin."Couldn't wait," he murmured, closing the distance in two strides. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me back against his chest. I gasped, meeting his eyes in the mirror, my pulse racing.He spun me around, crashing his lips onto mine. The kiss was hungry, our tongues tangling as he pressed me against the cool marble counter. My fingers dug into his shirt, yanking him closer. Rohan's hands roamed up my sides, cupping my breasts through the fabric, thumbs circling my hardening nipples."Rohan," I whispered, breaking the

Chapter 84Ella POVRohan did not act out of impulse. Now I thought about it, that should have been my first warning.We were standing near the tall windows overlooking the east wing gardens, the late afternoon light spilling in at a shallow angle, when he said it. It was not a casual conversation or an afterthought the moment he cleared his throat. He waited until our conversation reached a natural pause, until silence settled between us comfortably, and only then did he turn to me.“I’d like to take you out tonight,” he said. His tone was even, measured. “Properly. I’ll like to take you somewhere nice.”I couldn’t sense any qualifiers or teasing in between. There was in fact no implication that this was just convenience or obligation. He was really asking for a date night. I felt it register in my body before my mind caught up. My first instinct was not excitement, but containment. My years of reflex and experience told me that anything offered this cleanly came with gravity, and

Chapter 83Ella POVI noticed the gap before I named it. At first, it was nothing more than a faint disruption in rhythm, the kind that registers in the body before the mind decides it matters. A hallway crossed without pause.A morning passed without the quiet certainty that I would see him somewhere between rooms, between obligations. A day unfolding smoothly and yet slightly off, like a familiar melody played half a note lower.Rohan was no longer there. He was not absent in any dramatic sense or gone. He was not withdrawn in a way that invited confrontation either. He was simply not present in the margins of my day the way he had been. There were no causal overlaps or unspoken check-ins disguised as logistics. There were no quiet moments of shared space that required nothing from either of us except awareness.The absence made no announcement. It just existed. I told myself this was normal. People grew busy and schedules shifted. Power recalibrated itself constantly in a place li

Chapter 82Rohan POVI began the withdrawal deliberately. It was not as a punishment or as avoidance. Certainly, it was not a retreat.I framed it as recalibration, the kind that follows any prolonged engagement when proximity begins to distort perspective. Distance restores clarity. It always had. I had lived by that principle long before Ella entered my life, long before her presence began to rearrange the rhythms of my days without asking permission.For weeks, she and I had existed in a pattern that was too fluid, too seamless. Our routines overlapped naturally and corridors converged without intention. Meals aligned without discussion and presence became default instead of decision.I knew default states were dangerous. So I adjusted. I altered my schedule by minutes at first—subtle enough not to be noticed, deliberate enough to matter. No more “coincidental” meetings in the east corridor where morning light pooled across the marble floors. No more shared breakfasts disguised as

Chapter 81Ella POVI told myself I was only looking for him because it made sense. The Pack House ran on systems, and systems required alignment. Schedules overlapped. Decisions echoed. It was inefficient to operate in parallel when we could move in sequence. That was the explanation I offered myself as I crossed the west corridor just after dawn, my steps unhurried, my posture composed, my mind carefully neutral.I was not seeking him. I was streamlining. The house was awake in that particular way it always was at this hour—quiet but alert. Staff moved with trained softness, doors opened and closed without sound, the air carried the faint scent of brewed tea and polished wood. Morning light filtered through tall windows, pale and unintrusive, catching dust motes that drifted lazily as though nothing in this place had ever been hurried.I had timed this unconsciously. I realized that only when I saw him. Rohan stood near the tall console table by the library entrance, sleeves rolled