DAHLIA WESTBROOKE
He sauntered toward me like he owned the place—which he did—his mere presence souring the pleasant feeling that swirled in my chest merely five seconds ago.
I eased off the chair and squared my shoulders. "Don't come any closer," I ordered icily, glaring at him with all the suppressed resentment in my chest.
An easy-going grin found its way to his lips, and as expected, he ignored my warning, continuously shortening the distance between us. "Aw, come on, Dahlia. Don't be like that."
"I'm serious. I'll scream if you come any closer, and then you'd have to explain to your wife and your guests why you chose to corner me here."
His smile flickered, irritation promptly slipping into his eyes when he realized that his 'charm' wasn't going to work. "It's good to see you again, Dahlia. I've missed you."
"I don't know what you mean by that. I'm married."
A peal of condescending laughter boomed from his chest, an irritating smug smirk tilting the corners of his mouth. "I don't see a ring." He stared down at my empty ring finger pointedly.
"It's getting cleaned by my husband's jeweler." The lie rolled off my tongue effortlessly, and I mentally patted myself on the back. "Unfortunately, we couldn't get it back in time for the party. Conflicting schedules, but if you'd like to see the rock he bought me, I could send a picture to your wife once I get it back." I smiled sweetly at him, clasping my hands together in front of me. "How does that sound?"
I watched with satisfaction as his cool and composed mask shattered to pieces at my feet, replaced by rage and disgust. "You're actually married to that no-good thug? Look at him! How could you be so careless all because you wanted to get back at me?"
Humorless laughter spilled past my lips, and I immediately came to the conclusion that I was done with this asinine conversation. The audacity of this man to think he held that much power over my life. Me? Get married because of him?
Just as I brushed past him on my way to the door, he snatched my arm, pulling me back toward him until he was breathing down my face. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Dahlia? I know you're mad at me, didn't have to go this far. Are you hearing what the people in there are saying about him?" He jerked his head at the door behind me. "Do you even know what he does for a living? He's a fucking criminal. A criminal! Your father would be ashamed of you."
My hand shot out before I could talk myself out of it, and I struck him across his cheek, using the element of surprise to yank my arm out of his grasp. "Don't you dare talk to me in that disrespectful manner. And I am not your responsibility, never was. You have a wife. You should worry about her instead. I have someone worrying about me."
Grayson held his cheek where I had struck him, massaging the sting with his palm. "And you think that son-of-a-bitch actually cares about you? Don't make me laugh, Dahlia. You don't even know the man you're laid next to. He's a hardened criminal."
I jutted my chin forward, balling my hands into fists at my sides to contain my building rage. "He does care about me. And for your information, he's ten times the man you'll ever be. Plus, I'm sure he wouldn't go around sticking his dick in my sister while he's actively having sex with me."
Cruel laughter bubbled up his throat, and he shook his head at me. "Of course, that's what this is about. Sex. We split up, and you couldn't find another man to spread your legs for quick enough."
I watched him in bafflement, stunned into silence by his sheer stupidity and hypocrisy. Did he even hear himself speak at all? I always knew he was stupid, but this was a new low, even for him.
"So, tell me." He took a menacing step toward me, his lips curled up into a snarl. "Does he know about all of your little, fucked up fantasies, hm?"
Shame hit me like a freight train, knocking the breath out of me. It shouldn't come as a surprise to me that he used a vulnerable moment where I'd naively opened up to him as a gotcha moment, but it stung no less.
"No words? Or do you just pretend to enjoy him fucking you while you keep all of those depraved thoughts locked tightly in your head?"
I shook my head, making it my mission to show how unfazed I was, even though I wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow me. "That is none of your business."
"I think it is." His sleazy tone lowered in a way that was supposed to come off as sultry, but I only found it irritating. "I could help you, you know. I know your body even better than you do, and I was always going to come back for you, but you just had to go and run off."
"You were going to come back for me?" Oh, my fucking goodness, could be get any more obnoxious and revolting? "And then what? I was supposed to just spread my legs for you like a good, little mistress while you're married to my half-sister? You're pathetic and sick in the head," I spat, my voice packed with enough venom as I could muster.
"Still doesn't change what we both know is the truth."
I couldn't resist the urge to roll my eyes. "What truth?"
"You're a whore for my cock." He closed the little gap between us, grabbing my chin roughly in his hand. "Does your good, little husband know how much you love getting pinned down and fucked within an inch of your life? Does he know every time you squirm and scream no, you secretly want him to continue and go harder even while you protest? You'd always get wetter back then, no? Does he know about your desire to get fucked even while you're asleep? I'm sure he doesn't know your favorite way to wake up is with my cock stuffed inside you like the dirty, little slut you are."
His vengeful eyes flicked over my shoulder, a weird smugness slipping into their depths before he continued in a whispered tone. "He wouldn't stick around otherwise. I'm not sure any man would. You're irreparably fucked in the head."
Against my better judgment, my eyes watered, salty tears stinging my eyes and blurring my vision until I could no longer register Grayson's presence in front of me. I knew his words were false, but they hit their intended mark, reminding me of why I was always covered in shame every time I let him touch me in the past.
I felt grimy and disgusting afterwards, and hearing those words come from his mouth, I was thrust back into the past, reliving moments where I'd curl into a ball under the shower for hours, wishing the water could wash away my memories along with the sweat on my skin.
Breathe, Dahlia. Breathe.
I counted to ten in my head, trying to get my breathing under control before I slipped into a panic attack. I didn't want Viktor to find me in that state. Speaking of Viktor, where the hell was his larger-than-life presence when I needed him?
"I'm here, baby."
Like I'd conjured him simply by thinking of him, warm hands encircled my waist, drawing me into a chest that held a smell I found warm and comforting. Home. Without a thought, I buried my face deeper into his chest, grasping at his jacket like it was my lifeline in a stormy sea.
"You're okay. You're okay. I'm here." His soothing voice wrapped around me like a cocoon, gently guiding me out of my head until my breathing was no longer in a frenzy and my heart rate returned to normal.
I pulled back a few inches, blinking away the tears that had clung to my lashes until my vision was clear again. It really was him. "Viktor."
"It's me," he confirmed, his brows knitted with worry. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I-" I paused, looking around for signs of Grayson, but he was nowhere to be found, gone like he never stepped foot in here in the first place. "Grayson? He-"
"He's dealt with for now," Viktor filled in for me, his thumb stroking my waist in a rhythm I found calming. "I shouldn't have left you for that long." He clenched down hard on his jaw, I worried he was going to grind his teeth into powder if he kept that up. "For some fucking reason, finding a bottled water here proved harder for the servers than necessary."
I merely nodded, the rest of my energy completely depleted after my encounter with Grayson. "I want to go home."
Viktor didn't question the request. Didn't blink. Didn't argue. He just swept me up into his arms, carting me out of the enclosed balcony space.