13. Karma is a bitch

ELOWEN 

And—he was gone as I had heard the door closed with a soft click. 

Slowly, I opened my eyes. The room buzzed with sheer emptiness as I laid there, alone and helpless. 

I stared at the white ceiling, hanging down a modern chandelier. Slowly, it blurred before my eyes as some memories crawled in my mind, without my will…

The paparazzi. The lights. The shouts...

Those disgusting questions, and given names— “A mistress,” “a cheater,” “a gold-digger” —each word clinging to my skin like filth. 

I thought, what could be worse, and now, I have a lawsuit against me. 

A bitter laugh escaped the bottom of my chest. A sound I couldn't even recognise as mine. 

“He filed a lawsuit. Adrian Hale filed a lawsuit against me for defamation. Misuse of corporate funds.” I whispered, the words tasted too bitter in my tongue. 

When it was me who brought him his first investors. Me, who stayed up three nights straight to rebuild his brand when his CFO ran off with money. Me, who protected his goddamn empire while he was out celebrating with his friends, sacrificing my entire career… And now, thinking about those days it felt too stupid, too foolish. 

 the gut. 

They say true— Karma is a bitch, and my karma brought me to this situation… 

Those thoughts settled heavy on my chest, pressing me down so heavily that at some point I couldn't bear the suffocation anymore, and so, I kicked the blanket off and swung my legs down. 

My feet touched the cold marble, shooting a pain through my bones. 

My head spun, yet I didn't sit back, not anymore. I didn't want to be marked weak. I'm stronger than this. 

I rose to my feet and slowly looked around. It looked like a suite of a penthouse…

The room has wide glass walls overlooking the city, lights bleeding through the rain-streaked windows. Every corner screamed wealth, restraint, and control.

Just like him. Even the air smelled like Veyrek. 

I walked toward the window. The skyline blurred beneath the rain. From here, the city looked like a graveyard of glass. Beautiful, silent, and heartless, just like him. 

I swallowed the bile in my throat and turned away, wandering through the penthouse… It’s Minimalist, and cold. Not a single photo was there, just a pile of his dominance wrapped in perfection.

As I was walking around, suddenly my eyes caught them—A flower vase, right beside the bed. But what caught my attention was the flowers in them. 

Black dahlias… 

I blinked and then stepped toward it. The same rare flowers he had sent me this morning. The ones I thought were meant to mock me, the ones that dragged me here, furiously— “the symbol of endings.” 

They symbolize mystery, elegance, and sophistication. However, they can sometimes be associated with despair, brutality, and sadness as well. 

But, why are they here, in his suite? 

I reached out, my fingertips carefully grazing the dark petals. Smooth, dark, velvety — beautiful, yet coldly merciless.

Why would he have them here, too? It's weird, no one really likes them hanging around always. 

Or is it—for me? 

The thought crossed me painfully. Does he still want to mock me? Or—something else? 

As I felt confused and jammed with my own thoughts, just then—a knock on the door startled me. 

Before I could answer, the door opened, and Alexander Veyrek walked in. Maddeningly composed, as if chaos itself bowed to him when he entered a room.

Our eyes met. My chest tightened, my emotions betraying me, and I looked away first.

He shut the door behind him, and walked forward without saying a word. He stopped before me and stretched his hand, holding a file. 

I blinked, raising a brow, “What’s that?”

“The offer's still on,” he said simply, as though he knew I would agree without any argument. 

I stared at him. “You think fainting changes my answer?”

“No,” he said, placing the file on the bedside table, beside the vase, and inserted his hands in pockets. “But circumstances do.”

My fists clenched at my sides. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Watching me fall apart while you stand there playing savior.”

“Tell me Veyrek, was it fun enough?” I smirked bitterly. 

He didn’t move, nor smiled, he only raised a brow, seemingly amused. “Do I look like a saviour to you, Elowen?”

I blinked at first, then, “No,” I hissed. “You look like the devil who knows exactly when to appear.”

“Then that's more like it.” he murmured, voice low, dangerous. 

I turned away, because looking at him made me want to throw something at him. “I don’t need your charity.” My tone came out harsh. 

“This isn’t charity,” he said. “It's a partnership, Corvella.”

Those words made me laugh bitterly. “Partnership?” I turned to him. “You mean ownership?” 

His lips curved, but it wasn’t amusement — it was precision. “Call it what you want. The result’s the same.”

I froze. He didn't even hesitate, did he? 

“Why me?” I muttered, suddenly feeling weaker. 

He didn’t answer immediately. He walked closer, his steps were slow and deliberate. “The world already thinks you’re mine,” he said softly. “Might as well make it useful.”

My stomach twisted with a strange sensation. “You’re unbelievable.” I whispered. 

“And yet,” he said, stopping almost an inch away from me. “you’re standing here.”

His calmness burned more than yelling ever could. I looked him in the eye, or I tried to. Those emerald gazes—they were the most mysterious things I had ever seen in my life.

I swallowed hard, my heart was thundering, yet I forced myself to look him in the eye. “You think you know everything about me,” I murmured. “But you don’t, Veyrek.” 

His intense gaze watched me in silence, making me shiver through the core. “Then tell me.” His words were calm, too dangerous and fu**k me! They're seductive! 

I hesitated. For a second, I almost did. Almost let it spill — But no. He didn’t deserve to know. 

I looked away, stepping away from him. “Forget it.”

He didn’t press, which I thought he would. Instead, his words fell behind— “I'm leaving the file here, Corvella, hopefully, it'll be signed by the morning.” And before I could respond, just as he came, he left, leaving me alone— again…