CHAPTER 84: HOW QUICK

"It is not..." Roman began, ignoring her warning and taking a step closer.

"Can you have Kay take me home?" Patricia cut in sharply, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound firm. "I am exhausted. I need to rest."

Her words silenced him instantly.

"...Okay," he said quietly.

The ease of his agreement stunned her. She had expected resistance, an argument, maybe even anger. But instead, he surrendered without a fight. She didn’t let her surprise show. Turning away from him, she headed for the parking lot, her steps quick, her body stiff as though holding herself together with sheer will.

Kay looked up when she approached. His brows furrowed in confusion. Why was she leaving so soon? The party still had hours to go. Before he could ask, Patricia slipped into the passenger seat beside the driver’s seat instead of the back, her silence heavier than words.

"Miss Patricia..." Kay started, concerned.

"Leave her." Roman’s voice cut like steel from behind.

Kay glanced between them, even more unsettled. But he didn’t argue. A few seconds of silence passed, and then the pieces clicked together in his mind. Something had gone wrong. Again. Kay had seen it before, misunderstandings, cold silences, hurt lingering in the air. He was almost used to it by now.

"Where are we headed?" He asked quietly.

"Home," Roman answered, his eyes fixed on Patricia in the passenger seat. "I will drive."

Kay handed him the keys without protest. He knew better than to interfere when the tension was this sharp. "Here you go, sir."

Roman took them, brushing past without another word.

Inside the car, Patricia refused to look at him. Her arms were folded tightly, her gaze glued to the window, as though the world outside could shield her from him. Roman glanced at her once, his chest tightening, then started the engine.

The drive was suffocating. Silence pressed against them, heavy and unrelenting, broken only by the hum of the tires on asphalt. Neither dared speak.

When they finally pulled into the villa, Patricia reached for the handle immediately. But before she could step out, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist and pulling her back into the seat.

"Let me go!" She shouted, thrashing against him. Her voice cracked under the weight of everything she was holding in. "I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!"

"I know... just look at me." His voice was low, almost desperate, as he leaned closer. The closeness forced her backward, her chest heaving with uneven breaths.

"What is it? I am tired," she muttered, trying to sound unbothered. But her voice shook and she still wouldn’t look at him.

Roman’s jaw clenched. He stared at her, his silence heavy with regret. He hated himself in that moment for letting her see that scene, for letting Silver anywhere near him. He had planned to explain, to tell her the truth on his own terms. But now... how could he? She had seen enough to condemn him, and any words would sound like lies.

Patricia finally lifted her head. Her brows furrowed when her eyes met his. Rather than arrogance, his gaze was filled with confusion, darkness and even pain.

She tried to hide it, but he could see the tremor in her lashes, the redness swelling around her eyes, the tears clinging to the edges, threatening to break free.

And it shattered him.

"Would you believe me if I said you saw the wrong thing?" Roman finally spoke, his voice low, searching her face.

Patricia let out a bitter scoff. "You are not even apologizing. Not even trying. Instead, you would rather feed me lies just to ease your own guilt." Her eyes blazed as they locked on his.

"Apologizing is useless," he replied flatly. "Why apologize for something that was done intentionally?"

Her frown deepened, fury burning through her veins. "Then let me go. I don’t need your apology either. Just release me, and you can go back to your ex, or whichever woman you want." The words cut sharp, her voice rising as she thrashed against his iron grip. But he didn’t budge, his gaze fixed on her with a suffocating intensity.

Then, without warning, he seized her lips.

For a second, shock froze her, but then fire surged in her veins. She bit him, hard. The sharp sting forced him to pull back with a hiss, though his expression was unreadable, not pained but something darker.

"Don’t you dare try to take advantage of me!" She screamed, her chest rising and falling, eyes stormy with rage and heartbreak.

Roman froze. Her voice struck something in him, hollowing him out. He realized any word, any plea would only break her further. Slowly, he released her.

Without hesitation, Patricia yanked the door open and stormed out, not sparing him a single glance. She couldn’t bear to breathe the same air.

Silence fell heavy once she was gone. Roman leaned back in the driver’s seat, groaning as his hand dragged through his hair in frustration. Regret gnawed at him; his words, his actions, all wrong. But how could he explain? How could he tell her the truth without sounding like a liar? That everything with Silver was only to get evidence on Paul? That Silver was nothing but a pawn, a tool, a desperate woman who would sell anything and anyone for scraps of attention?

Yet Patricia... Patricia had looked at him like he was filth. Like he had betrayed her.

Climbing out of the car, he made his way upstairs. He stopped before her door, hand lifting to knock but his phone rang, interrupting his movement.

Kay.

Roman’s jaw tightened as he answered. "Send her in," he ordered curtly, his gaze flicking to the door one last time before he walked away.

Minutes later, Patricia sat in her room clutching her stomach. Hunger gnawed at her, so she forced herself toward the kitchen, deciding to make something simple. She knew nothing about the restaurants in this city, and she refused to ask Kay. Asking Kay meant seeing Roman and seeing Roman again was the last thing she wanted.

She had just started cooking when she heard footsteps. Assuming it was Kay or Roman, she kept her head low, stirring absently. But when the steps drew closer, she finally looked up and froze.

A pale, petite woman stood some steps away from the kitchen, dressed in clothes that were barely clothes at all. A crop top split wide at the chest and shorts so tiny they clung indecently. Patricia’s lip curled in disgust. Who even wore something like that in public?

Then her gaze landed on him. The woman trailed at his side, and together, they made their way toward where she guessed to be his room.

Patricia’s chest caved. Not even a day. He couldn’t even wait a day before bringing another woman here. How quick. How obedient.

The stranger’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. "Oh! Is that your sister?" She asked casually, eyes flicking toward Patricia.