[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":10},["ShallowReactive",2],{"viewer-data-2603220ECDF1-595":3},{"id":4,"number":5,"name":6,"content":7,"isLocked":8,"price":9,"hasRead":8},595,37,"Chapter 37: The Sting in the Shell","\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The headphones lay on the foyer console table until Roman returned the following evening.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The moment he walked through the door, he noticed them.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The cord was coiled with clinical precision—a venomous snake waiting for the signal to strike. Just last night, he had tucked them neatly back into the specific compartment of Violette’s bag reserved for her loose odds and ends. They wouldn't have tumbled out on their own. Someone had taken them out.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He stared at the coil of wire, his gaze hardening.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of footsteps from the kitchen cut through his thoughts.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette poked her head out, a disposable glove on each hand. Her long hair was swept up, though a few stray, silky strands had escaped, clinging to the curve of her neck like soft, dark tendrils. Her eyes were bright and clear, crinkling at the corners as she smiled.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"You're home?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">His military-grade conditioning as an heir kicked in instantly. Before his brain could formulate a genuine reaction, Roman had already plastered on his public mask. Gentle, warm, and impossible to fault.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"What are you up to?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I bought a massive durian,\" Violette said, her voice brimming with excitement. \"There were seven cloves just in the first section! It was a steal! I must have a secret talent for this—the durian gods are definitely smiling on me. There’s one more section left—want to try opening it?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The air was heavy with it. A thick, cloying, tropical funk that clung to the back of the throat.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman felt a wave of physiological disgust. He had always detested the fruit, but he had been raised on a diet of stoicism and performative politeness. He didn't like it, but he wouldn't force his preferences on others.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Besides, he had never told Violette what he actually liked.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The only time the subject had come up was before they visited her parents’ home at Bauhinia Bay. Violette had asked what he preferred to eat so Charles could prepare. He’d said he wasn't picky about home-cooked meals.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">When she asked if he preferred light or heavy flavors, he’d simply replied, \"Whatever your parents enjoy.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"They like things on the sweeter side,\" she had told him. \"They love doing honey-glazed everything.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman had nodded. \"Me too.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">It wasn't Violette’s fault. He had never given her the right information.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">With that thought, he unbuckled his watch, set it aside, and rolled up his sleeves as he walked into the kitchen. \"How many more cloves do you think are in there?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Hmm... probably just one,\" Violette said. \"This part doesn't look very big.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The scent intensified as he entered the kitchen. Roman slowed his breathing, trying to filter the pungent fruit out of the air, searching for the faint, lingering scent of Violette. She wore a delicate orchid-based perfume, but after a full day, it had faded into a faint whisper, nearly impossible to track.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">But he found it.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The knot of tension in his chest unspooled. He donned a pair of spare gloves without a word, his expression entirely unreadable. As he pressed his fingers against the jagged thorns of the shell, a sharp pain bit into his palm. He didn't flinch; he just moved more methodically.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He hated durian, yes. But letting Violette handle such sharp, jagged work was worse. It was beneath a husband's station.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman pried the final section open with surgical efficiency. He was a quick study; one glance was all he needed to understand the mechanics of the thing. When he placed the two cloves of golden fruit on the serving plate, Violette’s eyes lit up.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"You really are the god of durians! How did you get two cloves out of such a tiny section?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman didn't answer; he just offered a faint, thin-lipped smile.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette had already peeled off her gloves. She stood half-crouched, leaning over the counter, peering down at the crowded heap of fruit with intense focus. A second later, her excitement vanished, replaced by a look of distress.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Nine cloves in total. How are we supposed to finish all this?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">*We?*\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman felt a flicker in his temple.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"If you like it, you can just take your time with it.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"It won't last long in the fridge—two, maybe three days max. And the calorie count is insane! If I want to finish it by then, I’d have to eat three chunks every single day. I’ll break out in hives!\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman tossed his gloves into the bin and bent over to tie up the bag of trash.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"If you don't mind, I’ll take some to the office tomorrow morning.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Sounds good,\" Violette said, nodding.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She didn't suspect a thing, only thinking that it must be nice to be an heir who could do whatever he wanted, even eat stinking fruit in a corporate boardroom. She remembered an intern at the station who had bought a durian pastry for lunch. In the open-plan office, someone had started whispering in a pinched, mocking tone.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Who is that? Don't they know we aren't supposed to eat things that reek?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The girl had looked so humiliated.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette had watched her consider throwing it away, only to look too heartbroken to let it go. Eventually, the girl had climbed the stairs all the way to the rooftop, huddling in the wind just to eat it.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette had followed her, pretending she wanted some fresh air, and had asked for a bite.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Wow, that’s delicious,\" Violette had said, eyes closing in bliss. \"I haven't had a good durian pastry in ages. Where did you get it? Do you have the address?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The girl had been stunned, eyes rimmed with red, before nodding vigorously. \"Yes, yes! Just a second, Ms. Ellis!\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The girl hadn't lasted long under the pressure of the station and had eventually moved on to a different career. But Violette still remembered her—the round face, the way her cheeks puffed out like a hamster’s when she ate.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">*Being the boss must be nice,* Violette thought with a sigh. *Regular workers can't even eat a piece of fruit in their own office.*\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She pulled open a drawer, grabbed a roll of plastic wrap, and sealed the plate. She couldn't resist sneaking a small piece for herself.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"You maw-row... umph... boss...\" she mumbled, the fruit still in her mouth.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman paused, tidying up. He turned his head. \"Hmm?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her mouth full, Violette waved her hand dismissively. \"Umph...\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman laughed softly. \"Finish chewing before you talk.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette nodded.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">They occupied the kitchen in silence. Roman nudged the faucet open with the back of his hand, washing his hands again and again with methodical patience. Over the sound of the water, he spoke. \"I heard from the security team at the station that things still aren't quite safe. From now on, if you’re working late, I’ll come to pick you up.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">It was a statement that required no debate—just a nod of agreement or a soft, melodic sound to signal she didn't need the trouble.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">That was why Roman hadn't worried about her mouth being full.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette gave him that soft, melodic sound.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"They said there was a suspicious black van lurking around yesterday,\" Roman added. \"Did you not know?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette blinked, the answer stuck in her throat.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The water shut off. Roman turned, reaching for a paper towel. He balled it up in his large palm, the paper instantly soaking through with water.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He lifted his eyes, meeting hers in the quiet air of the kitchen. Her mouth was still closed, and a small bulge of durian pushed against her right cheek. As she swallowed, the bulge shifted, tracing a rhythmic path along her jaw.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman couldn't help himself; he reached out and poked her cheek.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Still not finished?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She was finished, but acting like she wasn't felt like the safest move.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette filled her mouth with air, her nose overwhelmed by the sharp, lemony scent of the hand soap on Roman's skin. She felt suffocated by his presence—a clean, sharp scent that masked an overwhelming sense of pressure.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She shook her head, responding to his previous question with that same, soft, melodic hum.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">*I don't know.*\u003C/p>",false,0,1774272918217]