After staring at her for a moment longer, Roman finally shifted his gaze back to his phone without uttering another word.
Alana sighed internally, relieved that Roman had ceased pressing the issue.
She observed him tapping on her phone with curiosity, pondering what he could be up to with her device.
"What are you doing with my phone?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Done," Roman said as he extended his hand, offering the phone back to Alana.
She accepted the phone from him, her eyes quickly scanning the screen to see if she could detect any signs of his activity.
"I've saved my number on your phone, so you can call me in case of emergencies," he explained, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a card.
Alana nodded, still gazing at his name in her contacts list.
"Here," Roman said, extending the card toward her, which she took.
Alana examined the black card, shooting him a questioning look.
"You can buy whatever you like with that card," Roman said.
Alana shook her head. "That won't be necessary," she said, extending her hand toward him with the card. "Our relationship is only a pretend, so you don't have to spend your money on me. I won't accept it."
Roman frowned. "It doesn't matter if this relationship is real or fake, you're still my girlfriend. So just keep the card," he said firmly, with finality.
Speechless, Alana withdrew her hand.
"If you say so."
Roman was about to say something, but his phone suddenly began to ring.
He reached into his pocket, took out his phone, and glanced at the caller ID before answering the call. He then moved a short distance away from where Alana was seated.
"I recall instructing you to contact my assistant if you needed anything," Roman said coldly to the person on the other end of the line.
Alana stared at his back, curious about the person he was talking to. She didn't want to appear as if she were eavesdropping on his call, so she excused herself from the room and headed to the kitchen.
As she approached the kitchen, a delightful, scent wafted into her nostrils, causing her to pause momentarily before entering the kitchen.
She met a young woman chopping vegetables. Alana assumed that she must be the housekeeper judging by her uniform.
The woman, on the other hand, did not take notice of Alana's presence as she continued with her work.
Alana stood there silently, watching the woman as she worked.
When the woman raised her head and saw Alana, she was startled to the point that she almost dropped the knife.
"Good evening, miss," she stammered, still slightly shaken.
""Did I startle you?" Alana asked, worried that she may have scared the woman.
"No, not at all," the woman shook her head.
"What are you making?" Alana asked as she moved closer to the kitchen island where different ingredients were placed.
"Bolognese sauce, miss," the woman replied as she resumed chopping the vegetables.
Alana nodded and sat down, watching as the woman sliced with skill. It had been a long time since she had the opportunity to enter a kitchen and watch someone cook. This felt like a rare moment for her.
"I see you've met Jane, the housekeeper," Romon said as he entered the kitchen, immediately capturing Alana's and Jane's attention.
"Yes," Alana replied with a smile. "She's very nice"
"I won't be able to make it in time for dinner, so after she's done eating..." He gestured towards Alana. "You can take the rest home."
Jane nodded in understanding.
His attention shifted to Alana. "If you want to go out, you can ask her to call the driver for you. Just make sure you're back here before 8."
Alana frowned. "I didn't know I had a curfew."
"Do you have a problem with that?" Romon asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.
"Yes," Alana replied.
Her frown deepened even more. She didn't appreciate the sense that Roman had a certain level of control over her.
While she was fine with keeping to the terms of their contract, as she had consented to it, she was not going to allow the man to dictate matters that affects her.
There were limits to things.
"We will talk about this later, Alana," Romon said.
Alana simply averted her eyes from him without uttering another word.
A second later, she heard the sound of his shoes clicking on the floor as he left.
After Romon left, Alana attempted to initiate a conversation with Jane, but the woman appeared intimidated by her, as she consistently kept responding with brief replies to everything she said.
Observing that Jane was uninterested in becoming too friendly, Alana ceased her attempts to engage in conversation.
Following the dinner setup, Alana simply ate and then retired to the bedroom. She took a bath, donned pajamas, and settled into bed, getting comfortable under the sheets.
It was just a few minutes before eight, and sleeping seemed impossible for her.
Which was not surprising, given that she had spent the entire day sleeping.
Retrieving her phone from atop the bedside table, she chose to watch some TikToks, hoping that it would help her fall asleep within an hour or so.
....
The booming bass reverberated through the air, blending with the music to create a pulsating rhythm that resonated throughout the upscale club.
The polished floors were filled with a mix of high-class and middle-class individuals mingling together.
High above the swirling crowd, Ryan stood stoically on the second-floor balcony, his impassive face showing no emotion as he observed the lively celebration below.
He took a leisurely sip from the azure drink in his hand, his gaze fixed on the people below with an almost detached demeanor.
After a moment, Ryan made his way back down to the luxurious seating area where Roman was seated, a knowing smirk dancing on his lips.
A striking woman, at least in her early twenties, leaned in close to Roman by his side, desperately trying to cling to him like a hungry leech. She attempted to catch his attention by subtly pressing her breast against his left arm.
Ryan observed Roman's disinterested expression as Roman took a drag from the cigarette in his mouth, and then glanced at the blonde woman who appeared as if tiny ants were crawling all over her skin.
Taking one final sip from his drink, Ryan set the glass down on the table and leaned forward, turning his head to the side to watch two men engaged in conversation by the sidelines.
"You should head to the dance floor," Ryan suggested, catching the woman's gaze, even though his eyes were focused elsewhere.
"What?" she asked, as if she hadn't heard what he had said.
Ryan smirked oddly as he gazed at the men before shifting his eyes to the woman.
"You've been restless since you sat down there; maybe dancing would help you relax a bit."
The woman frowned, a slight crease forming between her brows.
"I don't feel like dancing," she snapped, glaring at him before turning her attention back to Roman.
"You seem to have misunderstood my words as a suggestion," Ryan stated, his gaze piercingly cold.
"But I'm not interested in da–"
"Go to the dance floor now," Ryan interrupted, his voice quickly adopting a chilling tone.
The woman nervously gulped and turned to Roman, hoping he would intervene, but he remained silent.
He appeared disinterested, exhaling a cloud of smoke from his mouth.
Feeling somewhat embarrassed, she stood up. "I think I saw my friend somewhere," she remarked, her eyes scanning the area. "I'll go look for her."
Ryan's lips stretched into a bright smile, his previously intimidating demeanor dissipating almost instantly.
"Great idea."
The woman cast one more glance at Roman before leaving.
"Now that I have your undivided attention, I believe it's time we commenced our game," Ryan declared, a glint of excitement evident in his eyes.
Roman shot him an indifferent look.
"I'm not going to get wasted just for your entertainment, at least not tonight."
"Don't give me that. We had a deal, Rome. I sent my cousin to your place, and you'd get drunk for two nights," Ryan stated as he gestured to a passing waiter, who promptly approached him.
He whispered something to the man, who nodded before departing.
Roman didn't bother attempting to argue with Ryan because he knew it would be futile.
He retrieved his phone from his pocket and texted Eren.
'Cancel all my appointments for tomorrow morning.'
Roman ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it, after sending the text.
'Why?' Eren replied almost immediately, as if he had been anticipating Roman's message already.
'I'm about to get wasted,' Roman texted back before slipping his phone back into his pocket.
The server returned with another waitress, both of them carrying a tray with shots. They set it on the table, and the waitress left, leaving the waiter standing there, awaiting Ryan's next order.