“Meet me outside, left side, by the hedges,” I instructed, my tone leaving no room for discussion.
The night enveloped the world in a cool embrace, the manicured garden standing in stark contrast under the ethereal glow of floodlights. Shadows stretched and danced, as if whispering secrets to the night. From within the restaurant, the faint echoes of laughter and the rhythmic pulse of music seeped through the walls, a distant celebration that felt worlds away from my current reality.
Moments later, the figure emerged from the venue, his silhouette momentarily illuminated by the restaurant’s warm light. It cast him in a ghostly hue, as if he were a specter slipping away from a forgotten past. He cast a wary glance over his shoulder not once, but twice, each look betraying an underlying fear that someone might be tailing him. As he approached, I could sense the tension radiating from him, the way a cornered animal might behave.
“Sorry, I had to-” he began, his voice trailing off, but I was in no mood for his excuses.
“Give me the phone,” I demanded, my tone leaving no room for negotiation.
A smirk played on his lips, a mocking half-smile that grated on my nerves. “Show me proof first,” he countered, his bravado a thin veil over his anxiety.
“Do I have to say it twice?” I shot back, my patience wearing thin.
With a reluctant sigh, he fished into his back pocket, retrieving an older, bulkier phone that looked like it had seen better days. It wasn’t the sleek model he usually flaunted. He handed it over, and I took it, my fingers dancing over the screen as I scrolled through the contents.
There it was-the video. My thumb hovered hesitantly over the delete button, and for a fleeting moment, I entertained the idea of erasing it, along with every sordid detail he thought he had on Savannah. But the thought of doing so sent a chill down my spine; deleting it would mean placing my trust in Dean, and I trusted him about as far as I could throw him.
“Are there any copies of this?” I asked, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.
“No. Just that,” he replied, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.
“For the sake of your legs, I hope there aren’t any hidden copies of this video, Dean,” I warned, my voice low and threatening.
He swallowed hard, forcing a chuckle that sounded more like a nervous gasp. “I never made copies. Didn’t think I’d need to. I just filmed it and… kept it. Watched it whenever I wanted to.”
Before I could fully process my actions, my fist connected with his stomach, the impact resonating through my knuckles. He doubled over, the sound of his grunt a satisfying echo in the stillness of the night. I watched him fold, coughing and gasping for air, the power surge within me exhilarating.
“Keep talking, and the next will be a kick to the balls,” I warned him quietly, leaning in closer. “Let’s see how you explain that to your bride tonight.”
He straightened slowly, his face drained of color, one hand gripping his side as if to ward off the pain. “You know… I thought Savannah would be lucky enough to find someone who treats her like you do,” he said, attempting to strike a nerve.
I remained silent, allowing the weight of my silence to hang in the air. Sometimes, silence can cut deeper than any words. It was painfully clear he was trying to provoke me, and I refused to give him the satisfaction.
“She was wild,” he continued, his voice gaining a manic edge, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Untamable. Loud. Honestly? I only dated her to get close to Chloe. I’ve always had my eyes on Chloe.”
Rage erupted within me like molten lava, and I found myself wishing for something more lethal than my fists. It was moments like these that fueled my darker impulses.
“We lasted as long as we did because the sex was that good. Don’t act so righteous, Roman. I know you know what I’m talking about.” His laugh was ugly, jagged around the edges, a sound that made my skin crawl. “God, she still remains the best lay of my life. That video got me through some hard nights, if you catch my drift. But you-” his eyes locked onto mine, searching for a reaction-“you’re strange. Most guys would’ve called off an engagement after seeing that video.”
I allowed a slow, deliberate smile to form on my lips, the kind that promised nothing good. “Still working on breaking us apart?” I asked, my voice a low rumble.
The confidence drained from him, leaving behind a shell of the cocky man he had been moments before.
“I know exactly what you’re trying to do,” I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. “And tonight? Hoping I’d make a scene in there? It’s not going to work.”
“You’re walking into a storm, Roman. She’s a mistake,” he spat, desperation creeping into his tone.
I slipped the phone into my pocket, turning to leave, but then I paused, stepping back close enough for him to feel the weight of my words-heavy with the promise of violence.
“Congratulations on your wedding to blondie,” I murmured, my voice laced with menace. “Enjoy the honeymoon. But if I ever find out there’s another copy of this… I won’t be coming for your phone next time.”
With that, I left him there in the shadows, bent over and defeated, his pride in tatters. Behind me, the muffled swell of music and laughter drifted through the air, a reminder of a world that felt entirely separate from the dark confrontation we had just shared.
Renan
As I stepped back into the room, I spotted Savannah engaged in conversation with an older woman. Instantly, I sensed that something was amiss.
Her posture was unnaturally rigid, her back perfectly straight, shoulders tense as if she were bracing for impact. I could see her nails digging crescent-shaped imprints into her thigh, a silent testament to the discomfort she was enduring. It was clear that whatever the woman was saying was weighing heavily on her.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I strode purposefully toward them, my heart racing with the need to shield her from whatever distress was being inflicted.
I slipped my arm around her waist, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder from behind, disregarding every social convention in that moment.
She didn’t turn to face me; instead, she seemed to melt into my embrace, as if my presence alone was the anchor she needed to avoid unraveling. Her fingers intertwined with mine, gripping tightly as she continued to listen to the woman’s chatter.
“Oh my goodness, you two make such a beautiful couple!” the woman exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable as she momentarily lost her train of thought.
“Thank you,” Savannah replied, her voice polite yet strained, her grip on me tightening as if I were her lifeline.
“As I was saying, dear… It’s such a shame things didn’t work out between you and-“
Savannah cut her off, her voice firm yet courteous. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Malcolm. Always lovely to see you. Please excuse us.”
Her smile remained perfectly composed as she tugged me away, leaving the woman blinking in surprise, her words trailing off into the background.
“Sorry about that,” Savannah murmured, the pulsating music around us almost drowning out her voice.
“Let me guess… chatty old lady?” I ventured, trying to lighten the mood.
“You could say that.” Her laugh was brittle, a fragile sound that caught in her throat, revealing just how much she was holding back.
“An obsessive ex?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
She stiffened at my words. “Yeah… something like that. College days. She still ships-“
Another lie slipped from her lips, and this one tasted even more venomous.
“Relax. You’re wound too tight,” I said, trying to ease her tension.
“I’m fine. I just need a drink.” She reached for a tray that was passing by, her eyes momentarily flickering with desire.
I caught her wrist gently but firmly. “No, you don’t.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.