Kael had been smiling since the moment he and Clariss disappeared around the hallway corner.
That rare smile — arrogant, satisfied, almost triumphant — clung to his face like a badge he had earned.
Because in his mind, everything was going exactly the way he planned.
The little scene he orchestrated — letting Clariss cling to his arm, walking right past Amara as though he barely noticed her — worked better than he expected.
He saw Amara's expression shift, even if just slightly.
He saw her steps falter.
He saw her eyes flicker.
And in Kael's delusional confidence, that small reaction was everything.
"She still cares," he thought proudly. "Amara is still mine. She always has been."
His chest swelled.
His ego soared.
For weeks, he felt broken — restless, tormented, unable to sleep properly.
His pride was wounded, his heart confused, his thoughts consumed by the memory of Amara walking away from him again and again.
But today…
Today revived that part of him that always assumed her love was unshakeable, absolute, and eternal.
"Of course she can't let me go," Kael thought arrogantly.
"Her love for me is too deep. Too loyal. She'll come back eventually. She always does."
He even thanked Jake in his mind — and Kael never thanked anyone unless he absolutely had to.
"That idiot was right for once," Kael murmured to himself with a smirk. "Making her jealous works."
He felt almost giddy with victory.
Beside him, Clariss clung to Kael's arm, her own heart fluttering for entirely different reasons.
Because THIS — being allowed to hold Kael's arm, being walked with publicly, being pulled beside him — was something she had never experienced before.
Kael usually recoiled from her touch, dismissing her boldly whenever she tried to cling to him.
"Keep your paws away from me."
"Don't touch me."
"Don't cling. It's irritating."
He used to say those to her all the time.
But now…
Now he let her cling.
Now he wasn't brushing her off.
Now he was pulling her along.
So Clariss, too, felt overjoyed.
This was the first time Kael sought her out first.
The first time he allowed this kind of closeness.
The first time he chose her to stand beside him in front of Amara.
"Maybe…" Clariss thought breathlessly, "maybe he finally sees me."
She tightened her grip on his arm, smiling with triumph.
Kael didn't notice.
He was too absorbed in the echo of Amara's reaction replaying in his mind.
The more he thought about it, the more excited he became.
He wanted to see Amara's reaction again.
He wanted more proof that she still felt something for him.
He wanted to see her face twist with slight jealousy — because then he could convince himself everything between them wasn't truly broken.
"Let's go back," he suddenly said.
Clariss blinked. "Back? Where?"
"Where we saw her," Kael answered, already steering her arm. "I forgot something."
He didn't forget anything.
He just wanted to go back and witness more.
Clariss didn't question it.
She was thrilled to simply be dragged along.
So the two of them retraced their steps — Kael walking quickly, Clariss stumbling to keep up.
And while walking, Kael arrogantly thought:
"If I had done this trick earlier, she wouldn't have walked away from me. I wouldn't have suffered these past weeks."
His jaw clenched.
"It was so obvious," he muttered to himself. "I should've made her jealous the moment she returned from her leave."
He sneered inwardly.
"I wouldn't have lost sleep. Wouldn't have spent days feeling like—"
But then—
His thoughts slammed to a halt.
Because as they approached the hallway…
He heard voices.
Familiar voices.
Amara's laughter.
Damian's teasing.
Their tones soft.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Almost… intimate.
Kael froze mid-step.
Clariss bumped into him.
"K-Kael?"
But he didn't hear her.
His ears honed on every sound.
"Damian, stop—!"
"I'm just stating the truth. You're cute, deal with it."
"Damian!"
It sounded like flirting.
His blood instantly boiled.
Every muscle in his body stiffened.
His fingers curled tightly—so tightly that Clariss winced when he unintentionally squeezed her arm.
"Kael—Kael, that hurts!" she cried softly.
But he didn't respond.
He didn't even realize he was crushing her wrist in his grip.
All he could focus on was Amara's voice
and Damian's tone
and the unbearable closeness he imagined between them.
His heart pounded.
His breath grew shallow.
His pride shattered without warning.
They were laughing.
They were teasing.
They sounded happy.
And that made Kael lose control.
"Move," he snapped, pulling Clariss faster.
"Kael—wait! You're walking too fast—Kael!"
She almost tripped.
He didn't care.
He didn't notice.
He only quickened his pace, rounding the corner—
And then he froze.
His eyes widened.
Because he saw it.
He saw Amara on top of Damian, her hand covering Damian's mouth as they lay sprawled across the floor, surrounded by scattered documents.
Damian's hands were around Amara's waist, steadying her.
Damian's voice — soft, breathy — echoed:
"Amara…"
It was a moment so intimate-looking, so impossibly close, that the shock punched Kael straight in the chest.
He felt like the ground collapsed beneath him.
Amara's head whipped up, her cheeks turning crimson the moment she saw Kael and Clariss standing at the end of the hallway.
Her body trembled lightly from the embarrassment.
She scrambled off Damian so quickly she nearly slipped again.
"I—I'm sorry! Excuse me!"
She didn't look at Kael.
Didn't look at Clariss.
Didn't look back at Damian.
She just ran.
Her ears burned.
Her limbs felt stiff.
Her heart pounded with mortification.
Damian sat up, brushed paper off his shoulder, and rose to his feet calmly — as if falling on the floor with a woman on top of him was something he dealt with weekly.
He dusted off his sleeves.
Straightened his tie.
Then he turned and looked at Kael and Clariss.
His expression had drastically shifted.
His eyes were cold.
Hard.
Sharp.
He didn't say anything rude.
He didn't glare visibly.
But his stare carried the message:
You're interrupting something that wasn't meant for your eyes.
A territorial warning.
A silent challenge.
He gave them a polite nod — the kind that meant the exact opposite.
"Excuse me," Damian said simply, then walked away to follow Amara.
He didn't wait for a response.
He didn't look back.
Kael stood frozen.
His breath caught painfully inside his chest.
His pulse thundered like a drum.
His mind replayed the image repeatedly:
Amara on top of another man.
Damian holding her waist.
Their faces inches apart.
Her hand against Damian's mouth.
Her blush.
Damian softly calling her name.
His jealousy struck him like a physical blow.
Every part of him burned — from rage, from humiliation, from fear he refused to acknowledge.
Clariss finally found her voice.
"Oh my god…" she whispered with a mocking smile. "They're already in a relationship, aren't they?"
Her tone was sharp.
Almost gleeful in how she twisted the knife.
But she didn't expect Kael's reaction.
"Stop spouting nonsense," Kael snapped, his voice cracking with emotion he couldn't hide.
Clariss's eyes widened.
Kael didn't even wait for her response.
He marched away, leaving her stunned in the hallway — completely forgotten.
His pace was stiff and uneven, as if he was running from the scene stuck in his mind.
Kael slammed the office door behind him.
He leaned his forehead against it, breathing harshly.
His thoughts spiralled.
Amara's laughter with Damian.
The fall.
The closeness.
Her blush.
And Damian saying her name as if it belonged on his tongue.
Kael's fists tightened.
He tore off his suit jacket and threw it onto the couch.
He couldn't calm down.
Every time he blinked, he saw Damian's hands on Amara's waist.
Her flushed cheeks.
Her soft gasp.
Her embarrassed expression.
And worst of all—
The way she didn't even look at Kael after she stood up.
As if he didn't matter.
As if he wasn't part of her world anymore.
That realization rattled him.
Deeply.
Kael sat at his desk, fingers trembling, and chest tight.
Anger.
Jealousy.
Confusion.
Regret.
They all swirled together violently.
And through it all…
Damian's voice echoed in his head.
"Amara…"
Gentle.
Warm.
Protective.
Kael hated how it sounded.
Hated how much it affected him.
Hated how it replayed over and over.
He gripped the armrests of his chair until his knuckles turned white.
He had come to make Amara jealous.
Yet he ended up being the one crushed.
The one hurting.
The one drowning in the sight he couldn't erase.
Kael closed his eyes.
But instead of darkness, he only saw the scene again.
The warm tone in Damian's voice.
Amara's flushed face.
And that moment — that impossibly intimate moment — seared itself into him like a wound that refused to close.
And no matter how he tried to breathe…
He felt like he couldn't.
Like he was losing something he didn't even know how to fight for.
Something he never thought he could lose.
Amara.