His Father Bought Me-Chapter 45: She Looks Different

Roman’s brows drew tight, seeing the darkness in Estelle’s gaze.

But she dismissed him, looking back at the maids. "I want it comfortable. No more than that. Make sure it’s lavish." Her fingers brushed lightly against the armrest as she spoke. "I’ve had a stressful few days, and I’d like to settle in as soon as possible."

The maids hesitated one last time, their eyes darting to Roman for approval. Then they turned and hurried off. The soft echo of their footsteps faded down the hall.

Roman exhaled, dragging a hand briefly over his face before looking back at her. "If this is you trying to get back at me—"

"Get back at you?" Estelle cut in, turning her chair slightly so she could face him fully. Her brows lifted, incredulous. "For what, exactly?"

Roman opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him the space.

"You think too highly of yourself, Roman," she continued, her voice calm but cutting. "The world doesn’t revolve around you."

A flicker of irritation crossed his face, and he shook his head slowly. "If this isn’t about me, then you’re playing a dangerous game." His voice lowered, warning threading through it. "You’re stepping on the lion’s tail, and when it turns, I won’t be able to protect you."

For a moment, the air between them stilled.

Then Estelle leaned back slightly, her fingers relaxing against the armrest, her gaze steady, unmoved. "Well," she said softly, "the lion should have left the sleeping hyena alone." A faint, cold smile touched her lips. "Now that I’m here," she added, her voice quiet but firm, "I intend to be comfortable."

She looks different. The thought landed quietly in Roman’s mind, but it stayed there, turning, refusing to leave as he studied Estelle. Something in her posture, the set of her shoulders, the stillness in her hands, it wasn’t the same woman from earlier. What is this?

Estelle didn’t look at him again. She simply turned her chair and moved back into the room, the soft whir of the wheels breaking the silence.

Roman’s brows drew together as he watched her, and then something clicked. It was a small detail, but it was out of place, and his frown deepened. "What happened to the stylist Vance took you to meet?" he asked.

The question hit its mark, and Estelle froze. Her fingers tightened slightly on the armrest, her pulse jumping so sharply she could hear it in her ears. Oh no... She didn’t turn.

Roman’s eyes narrowed. "Are you going to answer me?" he pressed, stepping forward. His gaze swept over her again, slower this time. "Because you sure as hell don’t look like you just came from any stylist."

Estelle swallowed, but her throat was dry. She closed her eyes for a brief second, searching for anything, but her mind came up empty.

Roman’s chest rose a little faster now, as unease crept in. "Wait..." His voice shifted, suspicion threading through it. "Why were you with my father and Vance earlier?" He took another step closer. "Where did he take you?" His tone sharpened. "Answer me, Estelle."

Still, she said nothing, and the silence stretched endlessly.

Roman’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t read her, couldn’t break through whatever wall she’d just put up, and it grated against him. In three quick steps, he closed the distance and spun her chair around. The sudden movement made the wheels scrape softly against the floor.

"Hey—" He stopped her fully, forcing her to face him. "What are you hiding?" he demanded, his eyes searching hers. "Why can’t you even look at me?"

Estelle shook her head once, small but firm as her gaze slid past him. "I have nothing to say to you."

Roman’s expression darkened. For a moment, the edge in him softened just slightly, and something quieter slipped through. "Can I still trust you?" he asked, his voice lower now, almost careful.

The question hit deeper than she expected, and it made Estelle’s heart stutter.

Time to prove that you’re worthy of my trust... Magnus’s voice echoed in her head, loud and unrelenting.

Her fingers curled against the armrest, but still she stayed silent.

Roman let out a short, disbelieving breath. "Should I take your silence to mean you’ve already betrayed me?" A bitter scoff followed. He shook his head, stepping back half a pace. "I should never have trusted you."

That snapped something.

Estelle’s head lifted sharply, her eyes burning now. "The same way I should never have trusted you!" she shot back, her voice tight, just shy of breaking. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Roman blinked, caught off guard. He actually recoiled a fraction, confusion pulling his brows together. "What are you talking about?" he asked, searching her face. His mind raced, grasping for answers. Did Lena say something? No... she wouldn’t.

"How have I betrayed you?" he continued, his tone sharpening again, defensive now. "Why would I do that?" The lie came too easily.

Estelle’s eyes burned, anger tightening in her chest as she opened her mouth, but at the last second, she stopped. The words hovered, sharp and ready, but she swallowed them down. Her fingers gripped the armrest instead.

"I’m not interested in having any conversation with you," she said at last, her voice controlled. She paused for a moment, and then she exhaled, shaking her head faintly. "You know what? Waiting in here was a mistake to begin with."

She turned her chair, the soft hum of the wheels cutting through the tension, but Roman stepped in front of her before she could move an inch.

"Answer me," he said, his voice firm, demanding. "Tell me, once and for all, what this sudden change, what this anger, is about."

Estelle exhaled slowly and lifted her gaze to his, meeting the intensity head-on. It made her pulse spike, her heart beating faster against her ribs, but she didn’t look away. Not this time.

"I’ll say it again, Roman Whitehall," she said, her voice steady despite the storm underneath. "I don’t owe you any explanations." A faint breath slipped past her lips. "We are both doing exactly what benefits us."

Roman’s jaw tightened. He shook his head, studying her like he was trying to peel back a layer she wouldn’t let him see. "What did my father offer you?" he asked, the accusation clear in his tone.

For a moment, Estelle just looked at him. Her jaw trembled, barely noticeable, but her chest rose and fell unevenly as she held his gaze. "Nothing your father offers me is enough to make me betray you," she said softly. Her eyes didn’t leave his.