I nearly growled. Of course, he was calling for me now. I’d just gotten back, and he was already pulling me away. His office was in the north wing, a long walk from where I was, and my patience was hanging by a thread. I hadn’t eaten all day, I was exhausted, and on top of that, I had to hear such vile things. I dumped the grocery bags on the maid and forced myself to head to his office.
I didn't bother knocking and just opened the door.
Darius didn’t even look up from his papers as I walked in. “I heard you haven’t eaten today,” he said flatly. “I had someone prepare a meal for you.”
I blinked, momentarily thrown off by his words. Then I saw the full-course meal on the coffee table, steam still rising from the dishes. Confusion twisted in my gut. Did he expect me to sit there and eat in front of him? I stayed silent, not moving.
After a long pause, he finally glanced up at me. “What’s wrong? Aren’t these your favorites?”
Favorites? I stared at the food, then back at him, my anger bubbling up again. What was this game? Was he trying to pretend he cared now? After everything?
I couldn’t take it anymore.