Before Elise, my days consisted of workouts, black coffee, and working late. Then Elise came into my life like a tornado of sunshine and flowers and suddenly my days consisted of lazy mornings in bed with the curtains drawn, walks along the Santa Monica Pier, and short work days. But now she was gone and everything that brought me happiness before no longer had the same effect.
The house was silent except for the low hum of the refrigerator. The curtains stayed drawn, keeping the world outside where it belonged. Half-empty takeout containers littered the kitchen counter, a graveyard of meals I barely touched. The trash overflowed. The sink was full. My once-pristine home, a reflection of my control, now mirrored the chaos in my mind.
I knew people were trying to reach me. My phone never stopped buzzing, but I ignored it. Every call that wasn’t Elise wasn’t one I wanted to answer.
Iwas drowning, and I didn’t care enough to fight it.
I hadn’t meant to end up at the bar. But after hours of staring at my ceiling, feeling like my skin didn’t fit right, I needed to get out. Needed noise and people. Something to fill the void.
A dark corner. A brandy in hand. That was all I wanted. No expectations. No responsibilities. Just the burn of alcohol and the hope that for a few hours, I wouldn’t feel like a shell of myself.
But then Bryce fucking Decker showed up.
I terminated his contract months ago, but somehow, he was still lingering like a bad memory. He must’ve seen me sitting alone because he wasted no time sliding into the stool beside melike we were old friends catching up,acocky smirk on his face.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Nathan Edge, king of the industry, slumming it with the rest of us.”
I didn’t bother looking at him. “Not in the mood, Decker.”
“Come on, Edge. No need to be a dick. Just making conversation. You’ve been off the grid lately. Word is, your company’s running itself into the ground without you.”
I took a slow sip of my drink. “Walk away.”
“Guess that’s what happens when you let a woman fuck with your head. What was her name again? Elise?” He gave a fake snap of his fingers. “Right. Elise Alexandre. Your little assistant turned girlfriend.”
My jaw tightened, but I didn’t respond.
Bryce chuckled. “Everyone’s talking about it, you know. First, she’s running your schedule, getting your coffee, playingthe good little assistant. Next thing we know, she’s warming your bed. Bet she had to put in a lot of overtime for that promotion.”
The air in my lungs turned to fire. My grip on the glass tightened. “Last chance,” I warned, voice dangerously calm as I stared him down. “Walk. Away.”
Bryce leaned in, eyes glinting with something smug and nasty. “Relax, Edge. No shame in upgrading from business to pleasure. But damn, man, you let her go? A woman that hot? I mean, shit, maybe I should take a shot. She’s single now, right? And from what I hear, she—”
The punch landed before he could finish his sentence. Bryce’s head snapped back, his glass shattering against the counter. He barely had time to react before I hit him again, harder this time. Bryce staggered back, but I followed, grabbed him by the collar and drove my fist into his face until his nose crunched and blood smeared across my knuckles.
I barely heard the shouts around me. The scraping of chairs. The bartender yelling for someone to break it up.
Then a pair of strong arms wrapped around me, yanking me off him.
“That’s enough, boss.”
Ryan’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and steady.
I struggled against him, chest heaving, eyes still locked on Bryce, who was groaning on the floor, blood dripping from his nose.
I clenched my fists, the adrenaline still pulsing, but the moment was already slipping. The reality of what I’d just done started settling in.
People were staring and whispering.
Ryan dragged me outside and I let him. By the time we got back to my house, I felt the weight of it all. The fight. The loss. The past weeks of nothingness.
Ryan threw the car keys on the entry table and it was the only sound breaking the thick silence between us. I stood in the center of my disaster of a living room, the air stale with neglect.
I’d taken what my father built and made it mine. Controlled every aspect of my life with discipline and precision. And now?
I was one broken piece of furniture away from looking like a fucking cautionary tale.
Ryan exhaled through his nose, slow and measured, like he was holding something back. He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, then leveled me with a look so steady, so cutting, it nearly split me in two.
