Chapter 34
Tshabina
It had been three days since that night in Zioh’s apartment.
My division was busier than ever this morning, as today was the long-awaited day. After so many delays, the press conference announcing the joint project between my company’s new subsidiary and INDTV Group would finally be held after the Uncle Bakti issue was resolved.
That was also why Tsabinu had rarely been home. He seemed endlessly busy, which was why I’d been able to slip in and out of Zioh’s penthouse so easily back then.
And…
Andi had been acting strange for three days. No, strange wasn’t even the right word. Lately, he hadn’t been his usual nagging, talkative self either. He seemed preoccupied, like his mind was elsewhere.
That night, he had nearly driven me into panic, to the point where I crept under the covers in Zioh’s bedroom.
Andi had claimed he needed to talk to me about something important, only to reveal that he wanted me to watch a livestream of the latest gossip episode from an account he subscribed to.
He chattered about this “special,” which apparently focused on Uncle Bakti. He kept saying the team behind that gossip channel had discovered something “extraordinary” and that we had to watch it together.
But that was the problem—
I fell asleep.
I only caught the first few minutes before sleep dragged me under completely.
When I woke, Andi had already gone pale, and his face was tense.
The next morning, when I tried to reach out to him, he refused to talk about the video, brushing it off as nonsense, saying it was nothing I needed to think about.
But he didn’t realize that his face betrayed him, even the way he avoided looking at me.
What was in that video?
That question had been gnawing at me for three days.
The only thing I remembered from that night was hearing my name as if someone had called it. But I couldn’t be sure, and Andi refused to say a word.
“Come on, Ndi, be honest, what was it that night?” I begged him again.
He was busy adjusting some of the camera equipment, and for a moment, he went rigid, then replied without even looking at me. “I told you, it was just the usual speculations.” He shrugged. “Not important. Not something you need to worry about,” he added, glancing at me for a second.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Did he even realize how his behavior screamed the opposite? I reached for his hand. “Yeah, but what kind of thing could be so bad that you won’t even—”
My words were cut when Aditya entered our team’s workspace, commanding everyone’s attention. “Guys, we’re running late, we gotta go,” he called from the corridor, checking his watch. “We need to get there before the executives and guests arrive. Five cars, split up, move quickly!”
His instructions sent everyone bustling, hauling equipment, and falling into line behind him. When I tried to turn back to Andi, he had already walked ahead.
What on earth was he hiding from me?
We arrived a few hours before the press conference began at Riveting Hall Jakarta Gathering Center. It was one of the city’s largest convention and exhibition venues, with multipurpose halls suitable for events like this.
The main hall bustled with activity. People from Artamain and INDTV moved back and forth, preparing equipment, while press members already claimed their seats.
Our team had been briefed that media divisions from Artamain and INDTV would be seated front and center, providing us with the best view for recording and photography. I busied myself with the camera, checking and re-checking every angle to ensure the setup was perfect.
When I glanced left and right, Andi was nowhere to be seen. He had slipped off earlier, saying he needed to create content with the others, and he hadn’t returned since. I sighed, shaking my head, then stacked my things on the spare chair and under the seat.
As I was about to sit down, my phone buzzed.
Mr. Aditya: Tshabina, Sandra bought coffee for the team, but had to follow me to meet some people. The coffee is in the lobby, yours is the orange one. I asked her to order you an orange americano.
I blew out a harsh breath. This man… seriously.
After this, I needed to have a serious, private talk with him. I hurried towards the lift. The hall was on the fifth floor, so getting to the lobby shouldn’t take long.
Or at least, it shouldn’t have.
Each time the lift opened, it was already crammed with people. I waited, bouncing on my heels, until finally—an empty one arrived.
At the lobby, I spotted the drinks neatly arranged on a reception desk. I gaped. Twelve—no, fifteen cups?!
What on earth?! Did Aditya think I was Squidward, blessed with multiple tentacles? How exactly was I supposed to carry all of these?
Well. Somehow, I did. Almost.
Carefully, I balanced the box of drinks in both arms until my hands went numb. Standing before the lift, I shifted desperately from foot to foot. “Please empty… empty… empty…” I whispered, dreading the humiliation of spilling all these coffees across the lobby floor.
Or worse, becoming gossip material again.
At last, the lift doors slid open to reveal an empty car. With a sigh of relief, I hurried inside, struggling to steady the drinks. As I stepped further in, a sudden slip sent one of the cups tumbling from my grasp.
I braced for disaster, but a hand shot out behind me and caught it just in time.
Breathless, I turned. “Thank you—” The words died in my throat.
“Zioh?”
He gave me a faint smile at the sound of his name. “Are you trying to be Wonder Woman? Carrying all these drinks yourself?” he asked, taking all the cups from me.
“You don’t have to, I—”
“Sir! Wait!”
A sharp cry interrupted me, and both of us turned. Natasha rushed towards us, half-running, her arms full of folders and equipment I recognized as Zioh’s.
I instinctively moved to press the lift button, but Zioh caught my hand. Turning toward Natasha as she neared, he blocked her path and gathered the drinks into one arm. “Natasha, go back to the car and get the rest of the files.”
Her brows knit together, as if trying to make sense of his words, then she lifted her arms, full of files, as if to say: Were you blind? Did you think these were menus I carried?
Expression flat, Zioh continued. “There’s another set in the boot. Green folder.”
Again, he nudged her backwards as she tried to enter. “Fetch those and meet me upstairs, Natasha.”
With a final press of the button, the doors slid shut before she could argue further. I dipped my head in guilt at her as Natasha’s glare lingered on Zioh until the doors closed.
Another victim of a jerk boss, it seemed…
When the doors sealed, Zioh stepped back, aligning himself beside me. He looked so good in his tailored black suit, his hair neatly styled, which made my heart race. Then his deep voice filled the small space. “I asked you earlier, why you carry so many drinks alone?”
I looked up at him. “Mr. Aditya asked me to, Zi—” I stopped, cleared my throat. “I mean, sir.”
His brows furrowed at my words. Didn’t he insist on formality before? After all, we were at a work event.
Raising an eyebrow, Zioh gave me a small smile. His gaze lingered on me. “There’s no one here,” he murmured, words scraped raw in his throat. “You can be informal.”
I met his eyes and found nothing but sincerity there. It seemed he was still in his dominant white phase. Though his face looked tired, his dark circles were heavy. Was work draining him that badly?
“You’re the one who told me to be formal…” My voice was low but steady. “Back then, when you first came.” My grip tightened around the drinks.
He had been insistent in the texts he’d sent me since he’d been back. I wanted to know what he truly wanted.
No more gray areas.
Zioh’s gaze pierced deeper, then he shook his head. His voice dropped lower. “I’m sorry if that hurt you.”
His sincerity weighed on me. My heart thundered the way it always did around him. That look of his unraveled me. “You can be informal or formal with me, Tshabina,” he continued, his voice husky. His fists clenched at his sides. “You can choose. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
I blinked, swallowing hard as I tried to absorb his words, only to be swept away by the resolve and sincerity woven into them.
His voice, his scent, and the confined space of the lift brought me back to that night in his shower.
The memory of his touch returned to my skin, his scent filling my senses until the moment felt real again—rekindling that same burning, intoxicating sensation.
Back then, he had offered to drive me home afterwards, and he called me the next day.
But… I had pulled away.
It had been reflex, as if my brain tried to shut down before it could hurt. Because everything was still gray, and it would remain so until Zioh chose to speak, to open himself up to me.
After leaving his penthouse, I kept questioning if this was a phase. I found myself constantly waiting, perpetually guessing when his black phase would return.
No matter how I tried to hide it, my feelings hadn’t changed. I was still Tshabina, his Sophie; that was why I waited, as I had said. But now I had grown. My feelings were more than simple affection. I had to guard myself, or risk being lost again.
I would do my best to keep waiting in this darkness, waiting for Zioh to talk and explain so I could decide what we were.
Clearing my throat, I looked away to hide my breath that came too fast.
Zioh sighed, as if he could sense my unease. His voice rasped low. “Will you go home with me after the press conference?”
I turned to him, my eyes widened.
He leaned in, bringing his face closer to mine. “Will you?” He repeated, low and hoarse.
“I—” My lips trembled as his face came to rest just inches from mine.
“Hm?” He locked my gaze, leaving me unable to look anywhere else.
The air became thick, and I gulped. “I-I was planning to go with Bibu—”