It Should Have Been Like This (The Revised Version)

Chapter 28: Overdose

I twisted my lips in a pained grimace, biting down hard on my lower lip until I could feel the delicate skin break. Oh, how I longed to just punch that infuriating, smug smile right off his face, to slam his head down against his desk until that self-satisfied expression was wiped away. But I couldn't, and Rominic knew it — he knew he had me trapped.

My heart pounded with a burning fury as I clenched my hands at my sides, feeling the joints of my knuckles crack under the strain. The metallic taste of my own blood seeped into my mouth as my teeth continued tearing into my tender lip.

Rominic's expression softened, and he slowly rose from his seat, moving to loom over me. His hand came up, reaching towards my face, and I instinctively tried to pull away, but he was too fast. His fingers gripped my chin firmly, forcing me to hold still as his thumb gently stroked the tense muscle of my cheek.

"Stop biting your lip," he murmured, using his other hand to press his thumb against my bottom lip and his index finger against the top, prying my mouth open. Before I could protest, he slid his middle finger past my lips, forcing them apart to prevent me from biting down again.

"I hate you," I spat, the words muffled by his intrusion.

His lips curled in a tight, humorless smile. "I know." In a sudden, defiant gesture, I tore my face away from his hand and spat directly onto his, wiping my lips with the back of my hand to emphasize my disgust.

Rominic stared at me, his lips thin and eyes narrowed, his hand still frozen in the air where my face had been. "Touch me again, and I'll introduce my knee to your balls," I growled, the metallic taste of blood still lingering on my tongue.

Rominic slowly brought his hand down, casually reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crisp white handkerchief. He nonchalantly wiped the saliva from his face, his expression one of mild amusement.

"I've kissed you before," he said coolly. "This is nothing."

I couldn't help but curl my lip in a derisive sneer. "Is that all you've got?"

His smirk deepened. "Do you want me to say that my balls have already met your knees before? Remember that trip to Minnesota?"

The implication hit me like a slap, and I felt the blood rush to my face, my cheeks burning with humiliation. Turning scarlet, I quickly took several steps back, putting more distance between us.

Rominic burst into laughter at my reaction, turning and sauntering back to his desk. I gritted my teeth, my hands clenching into tight fists at my sides as I scurried to my own workspace. Hiding or ignoring him seemed the best strategy now — I cursed myself for ever trying to fight him in the first place.

I pointedly ignored his presence for the rest of the morning. When lunchtime arrived, Stacy came to get me, and we made our way to the cafeteria together. There, we found Giovanna and August already seated, their faces pale with a mixture of horror and discomfort as they listened to a loud, gesticulating woman at their table ramble on about some topic. Stacy and I immediately veered away, opting to sit at a different table instead, leaving Giovanna and August to fend for themselves.

After lunch, I returned to the office, carelessly striding back in without even bothering to knock first. But the sight that greeted me there absolutely horrified me — Rominic sat on the leather sofa, his legs splayed apart and his body hunched forward as he stared with a vacant expression at the ghastly gash in the palm of his hand, which was gushing out blood in a steady stream. The crimson liquid poured down onto the floor, forming a growing puddle beneath him, with splatters of it even dotting the pristine white leather of his right shoe.