CHAPTER 85: YOU KNOW

The moment Roman’s gaze met hers, Patricia quickly looked away, turning her attention back to what she was cooking. Still, deep down, she longed to hear his response, curious, even anxious, about what it would be. Not that it would surprise her if he denied her; yesterday had been proof enough that he didn’t value her.

"This way," Roman said instead, offering no answer as he gestured for the new woman to follow him toward his room.

Scoffing, Patricia tightened her grip on the chopping board, silently rebuking herself for expecting anything more.

Later, once she was done cooking, the echo of rapid footsteps hammered upward, closing in fast. She frowned, confused. Who could possibly be running inside the house? Roman had no pets, and he certainly didn’t have children. Could it be an intruder?

Her eyes widened at the thought, and she quickly ducked behind the counter, crouching low to hide. In the process, she slipped and landed hard on the floor with a loud thud, her heart skipping a beat.

The sound began to fade, and Patricia winced, certain she had been discovered. She glanced toward Roman’s room, briefly considering running there. But what if the intruder had a gun? He could shoot her before she got close. And if he was strong, or fast, she would be caught in no time.

Shaking the thought away, she scanned the kitchen for anything to defend herself with. Roman was nearby; if she made enough noise, he would hear and come out.

Taking a deep breath, she stood quickly, snatched a frying pan from its hook, and turned toward the sound, gripping the handle tightly.

"What do..." The words died in her throat as the frying pan slipped from her hands, clattering to the floor with a sharp screech.

"There you are... ahh." The voice trailed off, drowned out by the noise of the pan. Patricia blinked in shock, it was Zara, striding toward her. Her heart was still racing, and she gripped the counter for support, afraid her knees might give out.

"I thought it was a thief! What are you even doing here?!" Patricia snapped as Zara reached her side, only for her friend to burst out laughing.

"Wow," Zara teased between chuckles, "my best friend was about to hurl a frying pan at me. I wonder how many stitches that would have taken. What do you think, Doctor?" She smirked, leaning down so their faces were level, her laughter growing louder.

"Possibly a hundred," Patricia retorted, finally shaking off the nerves. "And I would have had the honor of stitching you up myself." She pushed away from the counter and started toward the exit, only to halt when her stomach growled loudly, reminding her why she had been in the kitchen in the first place.

"Ah! You haven’t eaten? How dare he starve you and make you cook for yourself?" Zara exclaimed, frowning as her eyes dropped to the tray Patricia had set on the table. She didn’t need to be told who prepared it, Patricia’s exhausted look made it obvious she had cooked it herself.

Patricia glanced back at the food, her appetite for the food, suddenly gone. Turning to Zara, she said quickly, "Do you know any restaurants around here? Let’s go out to eat." The eagerness in her tone betrayed her desperation to leave the villa, even if only for a few hours. At least it would give her an excuse to stay away from Roman. Not that it would solve anything, but it was better than staying here, haunted by thoughts of whatever he might be doing behind closed doors. Despite the loud crash of the frying pan earlier, he hadn’t even bothered to check. Foolish of her to think running to him would have made any difference.

Zara opened her mouth to respond, but her eyes suddenly flicked past Patricia, narrowing as if she had caught sight of someone...or something, behind her. Patricia jolted her arm to break Zara’s focus, pulling her attention back.

"Why would you think I know any restaurants? I am just as new to this city as you are," Zara replied. But Patricia was not convinced.

"I am assuming Silas brought you here," she countered flatly. "If you need something, you can ask him."

"That he did," Zara admitted. "But it goes both ways. I heard what happened, and how you ended up here. Shouldn’t things have... you know..." She wiggled her fingers in a suggestive gesture. Patricia instantly understood, her cheeks heating as flashes of the other night came to mind.

No. She couldn’t allow herself to soften. She needed to stay angry. Roman wasn’t going to sweet-talk or gaslight his way out this time.

"He has a girlfriend," she snapped. "And nothing happened between us. I only came here as any other doctor would." With that, she turned to leave the kitchen, ignoring Zara’s exaggerated teasing noises behind her.

"You two must have fought again," Zara called after her. "But that’s normal for couples. Which is exactly why I am never getting married." She bumped into Patricia, who had suddenly stopped walking.

"Silas, thanks for bringing my best friend," Patricia said, her voice steady, though Silas’s gaze shifted slowly from Zara to her. A smile tugged at his lips.

"It was nothing. How are you? Adjusting to the city well?" He asked, his warm tone catching Zara’s attention.

With a dramatic scoff, Zara rolled her eyes and mimicked his voice under her breath. "See him acting all sweet and cozy," she muttered loudly enough for both of them to hear, exactly as she intended. Zara despised men who pretended, and if it weren’t for the fact that Silas was exceptional in bed, she would have already moved on. It took betraying her best friend to get him and she was not going to let pretty emotions get in the way of savoring him. For now, she would use him until she grew bored, and then discard him without a second thought.