Chapter 8

Carl's POV********

I pounded on the door, my knuckles striking the wood with impatience. Each second that passed made the heat of my anger bubble up even more. Why was she taking so long to answer? Did she think she could avoid this conversation?

“Mia!” I shouted again, my voice echoing down the hallway. It was nearly midnight, but I didn’t care. Sleep was the last thing on my mind.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the soft creak of the door opening.

 Mia stood there, her eyes wide and uncertain. “Carl...” she began, her voice barely above a whisper her body stiff and tense. It was obvious she was scared. Even though I couldn’t see her eyes clearly, I could sense it—hear it in the way her breath hitched and her lips parted nervously.

Good. She should be scared after what she pulled tonight.

I didn’t give her a chance to finish, without wasting another second, I thrust a thick stack of papers into her arms, not bothering to hide the coldness in my voice. “I want all of this sorted out by morning,” I said, each word clipped and harsh. “On my desk by 7 a.m., sharp.”

She blinked, looking down at the pile of paperwork. “But... Carl, it’s almost midnight,” she protested, her voice trembling. “I—”

“I don’t care,” I cut her off, my tone sharp and unforgiving.

Her hands trembled as she held the papers, and for a moment, she opened her mouth again, probably to protest. I could feel it—the hesitation, the unspoken words hanging in the air. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t in the mood for her excuses or explanations. She had crossed a line tonight, and she needed to pay for it.

 “Don’t even think about sleeping until it's done.” my voice low and firm.

She looked like she wanted to argue, but I wasn’t having any of it. I turned on my heel, leaving her standing in the doorway. If she wanted to glare at me, I couldn’t see it, and frankly, I didn’t care. She was still in her office clothes, looking tired and disheveled, but that wasn’t my problem. She should’ve thought about that before throwing herself at Hans.

As I walked down the hallway, the thought lingered. I couldn’t see her face, but something told me she was glaring at my back, angry and frustrated. 

Part of me wanted to turn around and confront her again, just to make sure she understood the gravity of what she’d done. But what would be the point? Mia was stubborn, and she always had that defiant streak.

And those dresses she wore... pathetic. Every time I saw her in those dull, conservative outfits, it irked me. She was my wife, and yet she walked around like she was trying to blend into the background.

 It wasn’t just about her looks; it was the statement she made by dressing like that. It was as if she wanted to hide like she wasn’t proud of her position. That’s something I need to fix, I thought. She should be representing me with confidence, not shuffling around like she’s invisible.

I left her standing there, knowing full well she wouldn’t question my orders. She never did, not when I pushed her like this. Whether she hated me for it or not didn’t matter. This was about control, about reminding her who was in charge. After tonight, she needed to understand that there were consequences for her actions—whether she liked it or not.

But then, as I reached my room, a flicker of regret tugged at the back of my mind. Maybe I had gone too far. The image of Hans’s confused face flashed before me. He hadn’t done anything wrong—at least, nothing intentional. It was Mia who kept drawing his attention, whether she meant to or not. And yet, I had taken my anger out on him. A punch to the face, just because of her.

I sighed, feeling the weight of guilt settle on my shoulders. Hans didn’t deserve that. He was my brother. And now, because of my jealousy, I had made things worse. Tomorrow, I’ll apologize. I owe him that much.

I walked over to my bedside table and picked up the small frame that sat there. My fingers traced the edges of the photograph, my heart tightening in my chest. The memory in that picture was fading, just like the emotions I kept trying to bury. The life I had once known seemed so distant now, blurred by the choices I had made, by the walls I had built around myself.

I ran my thumb over the image, and without warning, tears blurred my already clouded vision.

What am I doing?

But I quickly shoved the thought aside. There was no room for weakness. Not now, not when everything was spiraling out of control. I set the frame back down and rubbed my hands over my face, willing the emotions away.

Tomorrow, I will make things right with Hans. But with Mia... I wasn’t so sure.