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She looks ready to continue, but I don’t let her.

I step closer again and answer what was clearly meant to be rhetorical.

“For starters, there’s nothing between me and Antonia,” I say. “There never was.”

Her mouth curves into a cold smile. The irony in it stings harder than I expect, but I don’t look away.

“I agreed to be seen with her tonight because she’s pregnant,” I continue, my tone calm.

I see the moment the shock hits her—how her whole face freezes, her breath catching in her throat. She blinks rapidly, as if trying to confirm she heard me right.

“Oh my God,” she whispers, one hand rising to her mouth.

“I just told you there was never anything between us, Thalia,” I say sharply.

I’m tired of this. Tired of the assumptions. The silence. If this is what it takes to end the games between us—for me to say everything—then fine. I’ll say it.

“She’s pregnant with her boyfriend’s baby,” I explain more calmly, though tension still coils in my voice. “The one who was accused of cheating. Long story short—because I don’t know and don’t care about the fucking details—he never cheated. Her parents set him up because apparently he’s not rich enough for her.”

I take a few slow steps toward her as I speak.

My bowtie hangs loose around my neck, and I undo the first two buttons of my shirt just to breathe easier. My jacket is long gone, lost somewhere between anger, confusion, and the police station.

“She found out the truth and planned to run away with him,” I continue, watching every flicker across her face. “But she needed to trick her parents—make them believe she was spending the night with me so she could escape.”

For a few seconds, silence swallows the room. Her eyes move rapidly, layered with shock, disbelief, and guilt. Still, she looks heartbreakingly small standing there, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Her lips part, but nothing comes out.

I step even closer, my voice dropping. “That’s all it was, Thalia. I helped her. Nothing more.”

“You kissed her,” she accuses me.

I chuckle under my breath and close the distance between us.

“She kissed me on the lips, Thalia,” I say. “A touch.”

And this is the truth. We agreed from the start to give people what they want to see, but keep it minimal.

She arches a brow. “I think you could’ve convinced her parents you were spending the night together without kissing her,” she snaps. “But you’re free to do whatever you want, with whoever you want, right? So this conversation doesn’t even make sense.”

She turns, attempting to leave again. But I already know she’s not walking out tonight—not until everything is said.

“As for the second part of your little speech,” I continue, ignoring her attempt to dismiss me, “Irina activates the privacy system every time we discuss confidential project details.”

A cold, unamused laugh is her response—no warmth in it at all. Her eyes snap back to mine, burning with disbelief.

I know exactly what she’s thinking. And I don’t blame her.

“Nothing happened between her and me whenever you saw that system activated,” I admit, holding her gaze.

“Maybe nothing happened since I started working on the same floor as you,” she shoots back, pointing at me. “Though I don’t believe you for a second,” she adds quickly. “But you can’t stand there and tell me there isn’t something between you two. It’s obvious in the way you interact, in how familiar you are. It’s more than professional, Ethan.”

Her expression hardens. “I caught you with your hand between her legs, if you remember.”

Fuck. I had completely forgotten about that.

Jesus.