Chapter 36

DORIAN’S POV***

The office was silent, but my mind wasn’t.

The city outside my windows had already dimmed into night, the city lights glowing faintly through the glass. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. The building was almost empty.

But I was still here, not because I had to be but because I didn’t want to go home.

Home meant silence. It meant thinking. It meant remembering the way Amara looked at me earlier today like she’d won something without even trying. Like she’d enjoyed watching me unravel.

A date.

And the worst part wasn’t the word. It was the fact that she said it with ease. As if it meant nothing. As if she didn’t know what it did to me.

I pressed my fingers against my temple, forcing myself back into the documents spread across my desk. Contracts. Reports. Numbers. Anything that wasn’t her. But every line blurred into her name anyway.

I’d barely signed the last page when a knock came. I didn’t look up.

“I said I’m not seeing anyone,” I muttered.

The door opened regardless. A familiar scent hit the air before the voice did.

“Still rude, I see.”

I lifted my head slowly, already knowing who it was.

Sofia Reinhardt stood in my doorway like she owned it.

Perfect hair. Perfect dress. Red lips that didn’t belong in my office at this hour. She looked like she’d stepped out of a magazine shoot, not into a corporate building.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

I leaned back in my chair, unimpressed. “What are you doing here?”

She smiled wider, as if my irritation was entertainment.

“I came to see you.”

“I told you not to.”

She stepped inside anyway, closing the door behind her with a slow click. Then she walked toward my desk.

“You always tell me not to,” she said lightly. “You never mean it.”

“I meant it.”

Sofia gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, wow. You’re breaking my heart.”

I stared at her. Flat.

She laughed, completely unbothered.

“I missed you,” she added, softer this time.

I didn’t respond. I didn’t have the energy for this.

She glanced around the office, eyes landing on the files and papers scattered everywhere.

“Working late?” she asked. 

I narrowed my eyes. “Leave, Sofia.”

She ignored it, walking closer. Then like she had no sense of boundaries, she perched herself on the edge of my desk, facing me.

My jaw tightened.

“Sofia,” I warned.

She crossed her legs slowly, deliberately, like she wanted to see if it would get a reaction out of me.

“You look exhausted,” she said. “And angry.”

I stared at her without blinking. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I am,” she replied, smiling.

Then she leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping.

“Did I come at a bad time?”

I didn’t answer. Because the truth was—yes.

She came at the worst possible time. My mind was already full. My restraint was already thin. And she was sitting there like she was still part of my life.

She reached for one of the documents on my desk.

“What’s this?” she asked, flipping through it casually.

I grabbed it from her hand.

“That’s confidential.”

She blinked innocently. “Oops.”

Then she laughed again.

God, she hadn’t changed.

Still bold. Still spoiled. Still convinced the world would always make room for her.

She tilted her head, studying me.

“You’re different,” she said. “You used to smile more.”

I scoffed. “You remember wrong.”

“No,” she insisted. “You smiled. You used to get shy around me.”

That was true. When we were younger, when I was stupid enough to think she was untouchable.

Sofia’s smile softened, like she could see the memory too.

“You had the biggest crush on me,” she teased.

She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against my sleeve, playfully.

“You’re still handsome,” she said. “Still cold. Still impossible.”

My gaze sharpened. “What do you want, Sofia?”

She blinked.

Then she smiled again, sweet and annoying.

“You,” she said simply. “Obviously.”

I let out a slow breath, forcing patience into my voice.

“This isn’t a good time.”

She pouted.

The same childish pout she used when she didn’t get what she wanted.

“You always say that,” she whined. “It’s never a good time with you.”

I didn’t respond.

“My father says you’ve been avoiding our family dinners.”

I stared at her.

Sofia sighed dramatically. “Dorian… you can’t keep acting like you don’t belong to us.”

I gave her a hard look.

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

She smiled, amused.

“Still stubborn.”

Sofia bent slightly, her lips near my ear.

“You know…” she murmured. “If you wanted distraction, you could’ve just called me.”

My hand tightened around the pen.

I was seconds away from telling her to get the hell out.

But before I could—

The door opened. I turned, my chest tightened.

Amara stood there.

She wasn’t dressed for work anymore. Her hair was looser, her face softer, like she’d been on her way out before she remembered something important.

A file was clutched in her hand. Her eyes flicked to me then to Sofia.

She froze. The air in the room froze with her.

Sofia turned, smiling like she belonged there.

Amara’s lips parted slightly, her gaze fixed on Sofia’s position—too close to me.

Then she cleared her throat.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry… I should’ve knocked.”

Her voice was calm, but I saw the slight tremble. The way her fingers tightened around the file. Her eyes met mine for one second. And in that second, something sharp passed between us.

Something raw.

Then she stepped back, already preparing to leave. But Sofia spoke before she could.

“Wait,” Sofia said, voice sweet.

Amara paused.

Sofia walked toward her, eyes sweeping over her like she was inspecting a purchase.

“And who are you?” Sofia asked.

Amara straightened her shoulders. “I’m Amara. Mr Wellington’s personal assistant.”

Sofia’s lips curled.

“Oh,” she said slowly. 

She glanced at me, like she was amused by the idea then she turned back to Amara and smiled wider.

“I’m Sofia,” she said. “His fiancée.”

The word hit the room like a gunshot.

I turned sharply. “Sofia.”

She ignored me. Amara didn’t move, her face didn’t change much.

But her eyes did.

They darkened, just slightly. She swallowed.

Then she gave a small nod.

“I see.” Her voice was too controlled.

“I’ll leave you both then,” she said.

She stepped back again. I stood up immediately.

“Amara—”

She stopped, just for a second. But before I could take another step, Sofia’s hand slid around my wrist.

“Dorian,” she said softly, her tone turning childish, “where are you going?”

I looked down at her hand then back at Amara.

Amara’s gaze flicked to Sofia’s fingers on me. Her jaw tightened.

Her lips curved into a polite smile. The kind people used when they were hurt but didn’t want anyone to see it.

“Goodnight, Mr Wellington,” she said.

Then she turned and walked out. The door closed behind her. And the silence that followed was violent.

I stared at the door like I could undo it. Like I could rewind time.

Sofia tugged my sleeve gently.

“Come on,” she said. “Sit with me. You’ve been working too hard.”

I didn’t move. My eyes were still on the door. The way Amara’s eyes looked before she left. Watery.

Sofia leaned against my arm, completely unaware of the storm she had caused.

“You missed me,” she said softly.

I didn't respond. I only pulled my wrist from her grip. But my voice came out cold.

“Don’t ever call yourself that again.”

Sofia blinked. “Call myself what?”

I looked at her.

“Fiancée.”

Her smile returned.

“Oh,” she said. “But it sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

It didn’t, and it had just cost me something I didn’t know how to fix.

I grabbed my coat from the chair. Sofia’s brows furrowed. “Where are you going?”

“I’m done for the night.”

She pouted again. “Dorian—”

I finally faced her, my eyes hard.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Her expression faltered slightly. “I just wanted to see you.”

I stared at her for a long moment then I opened the office door.

And walked out because if I stayed another second, I might do something reckless.

And for the first time in a long time…

I wanted to be reckless.

For her.