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Chapter 5 - JEALOUSY GAMES

If there was a hidden war waged in the quiet glances and forced smiles of the office, Sasha was now a seasoned soldier. Ever since she refused to answer Kian and Adrian's curious question about her relation with Lex, Kian had barely spoken to her unless it was about work. And even then, his words were clipped, cold, and overly professional. But his actions? They screamed something else entirely.

Her workload had doubled—projects she wasn't even assigned to were suddenly landing on her desk. Late-night emails. Early-morning briefs. It felt deliberate, like he was testing her patience. Or punishing her for being… unforgettable.

"Sasha, the design brief for the Kimathi project should be on your desk by now. I expect a draft by 9 a.m. tomorrow," Kian said, not even looking up from his screen.

She swallowed her sigh and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Sir. The title tasted bitter in her mouth. Kian hadn't cared for titles when they were alone, whispering things he shouldn't have. Now, it was all protocol and power plays.

But two could play this game.

She matched his ice with silence, completed every task without complaint, and pretended she didn't notice how his eyes lingered a little longer when she wore her hair up or how his jaw clenched whenever Adrian leaned too close during meetings.

Then the office buzzed with news—"a party".

"His wife's throwing him a birthday party. This Saturday. All staff invited," one of the interns whispered to another near the break room.

Alani stood frozen near the printer.

His wife.

The words didn't sting. They burned.

Back in her office, she scrolled through the company-wide invite on her screen, her stomach churning. "To celebrate the birthday of our CEO, Kian Rono. Hosted by Mrs.Rono."

Formal. Perfect. Public.

And a slap to her chest.

He hadn't mentioned his birthday. Hadn't even dropped a hint. Not that he owed her that,but still.

She didn't realize she was gripping her pen too tightly until it snapped in half.

Friday passed in a blur of exhaustion. Kian had asked her to prepare a presentation deck that would normally take a team to finish. Alone. In one night.

Sasha stayed until 1 a.m., fingers numb, eyes heavy, but she did it—and she did it well.

The next morning, her phone vibrated. Lex.

"Still coming tonight? We could go together."

Sasha hesitated before replying.

"I'll see how I feel."

The idea of watching Kian laugh beside his wife, wrapped in a world she would never belong to, made her stomach twist. But not going would be defeat. She refused to let jealousy keep her small.

Saturday evening, the venue was stunning. Chandeliers glittered above white florals and gold-accented decor. The who's who of Nairobi's elite were scattered across the room, but Sasha's eyes only sought one man.

He stood tall in a navy suit, his smile soft but polite. Beside him, his wife...elegant, poised, and wrapped in a red gown that demanded attention.

"Sasha!" Lex called out beside her, breaking her focus. "You came."

She smiled tightly. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Neither would Adrian, apparently," Lex smirked, nodding toward the bar.

Sasha followed his gaze.

Adrian raised his glass toward her, sending a wink that made her chuckle in spite of herself.

Kian noticed.

Their eyes locked for a beat too long across the room. Then his arm subtly pulled his wife closer. Alani's jaw tensed.

Let the games begin.

She walked toward Adrian, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. She laughed at his jokes, let him hold her waist, even smiled up at him like he was the only man that existed in that room.

But he wasn't.

Kian's gaze followed her every move like a shadow. Every brush of Adrian's hand on her hip was answered by the tightness of his jaw. Every time she laughed, his eyes darkened.

When she stepped off the floor to catch her breath, she bumped into him.

Hard.

He caught her elbow, steadying her.

"Careful," he said lowly.

"Didn't see you there," she replied coolly, stepping back.

"You've been busy," he muttered, eyes scanning her.

"So have you," she replied, glancing pointedly toward his wife.

Something flickered in his gaze regret? Anger?

He leaned in, his voice like smoke. "He's not your type."

"You don't know my type," she whispered, chin raised.

"I know exactly what your type is, Sasha," he murmured, his fingers grazing her wrist so subtly she shivered. "Dangerous. Addictive."

"Your words," she replied, voice catching. "Not mine."

Their moment shattered when his wife appeared beside him, looping her arm through his.

"Ready to cut the cake?" she asked, beaming at them both.

Sasha stepped back, plastering a smile. "Happy birthday, sir."

And walked away.

Her heels clicked louder than her heartbeat, her chest tight with everything she couldn't say.

Behind her, Kian stood frozen, torn between what he had and what he wanted.

The night was far from over.

But the jealosy games had just begun.

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