Bea’s POV
“You used me?” My voice sliced the air before he could even close the bathroom door. “Seriously, Damien? I was your PR stunt?” He froze halfway across the room, mouth half open like he didn’t expect me to come at him so fast, so hard. “Bea, come on,” he said, running a hand through his perfect hair like he was the one under attack. “It wasn’t like that.” I stepped forward, heartbeat pounding through my chest. “I heard you. Through the damn door. You said I was easy. That getting back at Julian with me was child’s play.” His jaw tightened, but the smirk never left his lips. “You’re twisting it.” “No,” I snapped, shoving his coat into his arms. “You twisted me.”
He shrugged like I was being dramatic. “You know how people talk. Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the attention.” My stomach turned. “Excuse me?” He took a slow step forward, eyes narrowing as he tried to hold my gaze. “You liked being the center of it all, Bea. Don’t lie. Julian paraded you around like a trophy, and you basked in it. At least I didn’t pretend this was something it wasn’t.” His voice dropped, soft and venomous. “You loved it. All of it.” The heat in my cheeks was pure fury. “What I loved,” I hissed, “was thinking someone saw me as more than a move on a chessboard.” He didn’t even blink. “And yet here you are, still playing.”
He moved in fast—faster than I expected—and wrapped his fingers around my wrist. Not hard, but firm. Possessive. Dismissive. “Don’t do that,” I said, voice cracking but fierce. “Let. Me. Go.” His eyes darkened. “Don’t act like this wasn’t mutual. I saw how you looked at me.” My breath hitched, but I stood tall. “And I saw how fast you flipped the moment you thought no one was listening.” I yanked my wrist free just as the front door slammed open behind us. Wind rushed through the room with the storm outside, and before I even turned to look, I knew.
Julian Wolfe.
He was soaked, again, the rain turning his coat nearly black and his expression even darker. “Touch her again,” he growled, stepping inside like a shadow with teeth, “and I’ll end you.” The words weren’t shouted. They didn’t need to be. They landed like a brick to the chest. Julian’s eyes burned holes into Damien, his fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight enough to shatter glass. Damien let out a low, dry laugh. “Oh look,” he said. “The white knight arrives. Bit late, don’t you think?” Julian didn’t move, didn’t blink. “You used her. You laughed about it. And now you’re standing in her apartment like you belong here.” He took one step closer. “You don’t.”
For a second, the only sound was the rain pounding against the windows. Damien looked between us, then rolled his eyes. “You two deserve each other,” he said. “One can’t speak his mind, the other can’t stop bleeding every time someone does.” He grabbed his coat from the floor, brushing off invisible lint. “Enjoy the fallout. She’s all yours, bro.” He looked at me, smiled like he still had some piece of control. “Thanks for the wine.” Then he turned and walked out, calm as ever, leaving the door swinging behind him. Julian shut it quietly, then stayed still.
I didn’t speak. My pulse thundered through me like a warning. Julian had shown up again, unannounced, at just the right moment. Too perfect. Too late. I stared at the floor, the wine glass still on the table, half full. I wanted to scream. Wanted to ask what the hell he thought he was doing. Instead, I turned to the window, breathing hard. My reflection in the glass looked pale, haunted, and livid. This wasn’t how I wanted to be rescued. This wasn’t what I needed. I’d just spent days trying to pull myself out of a hole, and here he was, digging back into my life without asking if I even wanted him in it.
The silence grew heavier with every second. I could feel him behind me—watching, waiting. The man who claimed he wanted to love me but didn’t know how. The man who let me walk away. The man who watched someone else hurt me and finally decided he had something to say. Slowly, I turned to face him. He looked tired. Wetter than the first time he showed up. His eyes were softer now, less fire, more fracture. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t falling for sad eyes tonight. I wasn’t falling for anything anymore.
My chest rose and fell as I took a step forward, voice sharp as a blade. “What the hell are you still doing here?”