**Through Unseen Doors We Step Into Untold Worlds Beyond**
by Sage Hunter Lane
Nyla retreated to the restroom, seeking solace in the coolness of the water. She splashed her face, the icy droplets invigorating her senses.
Staring into the mirror, she caught sight of her red, puffy eyes and couldn’t suppress a bitter smile. How had it come to this? Damon must be utterly repulsed by her now. She imagined him regarding her with the same chilling indifference he had shown before. Perhaps that was for the best; after all, they should sever any lingering ties.
After taking a moment to gather herself, she took a deep breath, allowing her eyes to settle back to their usual calmness. With a renewed sense of determination, she stepped out of the restroom.
Upon returning to the table, Nyla felt Clark’s piercing gaze immediately hone in on her swollen lips, as if they were a glaring beacon of her distress.
“Nyla, what on earth happened to your mouth?” Clark’s voice was laced with concern, but his expression was dark, almost accusatory.
Nyla felt a wave of discomfort wash over her, as if she were a criminal caught in the act. She was aware of how out of place she looked, as if she had just stumbled out of an illicit rendezvous. With Damon present in the restaurant, it was no wonder Clark was suspicious.
With a steadying breath, she maintained her composure. “I noticed my lipstick was smudged when I glanced in the mirror, so I wiped it off. I guess I must have been a bit too vigorous, which is why my lips are swollen.”
“Really?” Clark’s eyes narrowed, his skepticism palpable.
Nyla’s frown deepened, and a chill crept into her tone. “What’s with the inquisition? If you don’t believe me, that’s one thing, but don’t act like you’re interrogating a criminal!”
Clark’s expression softened slightly as he took in her defiance. “Nyla, I’m sorry. I was just worried, and I didn’t mean to come off as aggressive.”
A cold laugh escaped her lips, tinged with sarcasm. “That’s not ‘concern’—that’s an interrogation.”
With that, she seized her bag and turned on her heel, ready to leave.
As she reached the entrance of the restaurant, Clark hurried after her, desperation in his voice. “Nyla, I’m really sorry. I crossed a line. Please, forgive me this time.”
She remained silent, her demeanor icy, yet she paused her steps.
“Mm.” Nyla’s response was noncommittal, her expression blank, though her hands were clenched tightly at her sides, betraying her inner turmoil.
After dropping her off at her building, Clark hesitated, a reluctant look crossing his face. “Nyla, I really don’t want to let you go. Why not move back in tonight? I can have the maid come over tomorrow to pack your things.”
Nyla frowned at his eagerness, feeling a twinge of irritation. “No. I don’t like others handling my belongings.”
Clark knew her well enough to recognize when to relent. “Alright then.”
She took a breath, steeling herself for what she needed to say next. “By the way, even though I agreed to move back, I want us to sleep in separate rooms. Once you’ve sorted things out with your mistress, I’ll think about returning to the bedroom. Until then, you cannot be intimate with me without my permission,” she stated firmly, her gaze unwavering.
The air between them thickened with unspoken tension as her words hung in the silence, a clear boundary set.
**Chapter 67**

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