His Father Bought Me-Chapter 41: The Meeting Is Over

Vance didn’t budge. "Your father is speaking with her," he said firmly. "You’ll have to wait until he’s done. Then you can have her."

The words snapped something thin inside Roman. "I’m warning you, Vance." His voice dropped, low and dangerous now, and his fists curled at his sides, his knuckles whitening. "Get out of my way."

For a brief second, Vance hesitated. He caught the tension in Roman’s jaw, the way the muscle ticked in his cheek, the barely restrained violence in his stance. Then instinct kicked in. Immediately, he stepped back and pushed at the door. But it didn’t move.

A gasp escaped Vance’s lips before he could stop it. Then he glanced down. That was when he saw Roman’s hand already braced against the door, his fingers spread wide against the wood, holding it firmly in place. A slow, cold realization crept in. Roman wasn’t taking no for an answer.

He looked back up, his eyes widening slightly, his breath uneven. "What are you doing, Roman?"

Roman didn’t answer, he just pushed the door. The force behind it was sharp, but controlled, like a body check on the ice, and the door flew open with a loud crack against the wall. Vance staggered, his shoulder hitting the frame as he lost his balance for a second before catching himself.

Roman didn’t spare him another glance. He was already moving fast, his eyes fixed on the door as he stormed straight toward Magnus’s office.

"Roman—" Vance rushed after him, recovering quickly, and stepped in front of him again, blocking his path. "You can’t—"

Roman stopped short, and for a brief second, the air between them disappeared. His gaze slid over Vance slowly, as if he was calculating how to destroy him.

Vance adjusted his suit, though his fingers weren’t as steady as he wanted them to be. For the first time, the distance between employer and son felt dangerously thin. "I’m sorry," he said, forcing composure back into his voice, "but you can’t go in there."

Roman’s chest rose and fell, each breath heavier than the last. Then, in one swift motion, he shoved Vance aside, hard. Vance stumbled, his back hitting the wall this time with a dull thud, air leaving his lungs in a sharp exhale.

Roman stepped forward, his fists already rising, instinct taking over, but he stopped himself just short of impact. His hand hovered for a fraction of a second before curling back at his side. "Don’t ever stand in my way again," he said, his voice rough and dangerous. "Next time, you’ll be picking your teeth off the floor."

Vance clutched at his chest, dragging in a breath, trying to steady the sudden spike of fear rattling through him. "You can’t go in there!" he called after him, his voice uneven now.

Roman didn’t slow down. "Then stop me," he threw back, his tone cutting, his brows drawn tight as he closed the distance to the door.

Behind him, Vance swallowed hard. "Oh, my," he muttered under his breath, the words barely holding together.

When Roman reached the door, he didn’t hesitate. His fist slammed against it once, and the wood shuddered under the impact, the sound echoing down the hall. He waited, counting in his head. One second, two. Nothing. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

His jaw clenched as he hit it again with more strength this time, and the hinges groaned faintly. Still nothing. And that was it. The last thread snapped.

Roman stepped back half a pace, then drove his shoulder into the door. The impact cracked through the space, and the door burst open.

Inside, the room was calm, too calm.

Magnus sat back in his chair, composed, almost relaxed, like he’d been expecting this. Lena sat opposite him, her posture steady, her expression unreadable.

Roman’s anger didn’t falter. "This meeting is over," he said, his voice sharp, commanding. "Lena! Come with me." He extended his hand toward her, his palm open, waiting.

Magnus didn’t move, if anything, his smile deepened slightly as he turned his gaze to Lena. The choice was hers. For a moment, she looked at him, then she rose from her chair and walked past Roman’s outstretched hand, close enough that her fingers almost brushed his, then she kept going, as if it had never been there.

Roman didn’t react to Lena walking past him, not yet. Instead, he turned back to Magnus, stepping closer until his palms landed flat against the polished table with a heavy thud. The surface was cool beneath his skin, grounding nothing because his eyes still blazed.

"You’ve played your games with me," he said, his voice tight, vibrating with restrained anger. "But I won’t sit back and watch you drag Lena into it. Stay away from her." The room felt too still. "If you don’t—"

"Yes?" Magnus cut in smoothly, leaning forward just enough to meet him head-on, his gaze steady, almost amused. "Please, go on. Tell me what will happen."

Roman held his stare, his chest rising and falling, his breath uneven, words rushing up his throat, but nothing came. Not a single thing.

Magnus’s lips curved faintly. "I didn’t think so."

The silence stretched, loud and suffocating.

Then Magnus leaned back, dismissing him with a flick of his gaze toward the door. "Get out, and close the door behind you."

Roman’s jaw tightened, his fists curled at his sides, before he forced them open again. For a second, he just stood there, and then he turned. The door slammed behind him with a sharp crack, the sound echoing into the waiting room, but it did nothing to ease the heat coiling in his chest.

Out in the waiting room, the air felt different. Colder.

He caught sight of Lena near Vance, her voice low as she said something Roman couldn’t make out. Vance nodded once. Then she turned and walked away without looking back.

Roman frowned, the tension in his chest shifting. What did he say to her? He glanced once at the closed office door, like he might go back in, but Lena was already leaving. And she wasn’t looking back.