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The lighting is dim and intimate, like this is a setting for a romantic night.
My anger is barely tucked beneath the surface, tearing and pulling at my precariously standing walls as I stride in the direction of what must be the bedroom.
Giggles reach me first, followed by the rumble of a very familiar voice. I stop in front of the ajar door, sucking nonexistent breaths into my burning lungs.
I should leave and put this entire thing behind me.
Forget.
Deny.
Pretend.
Be in control—
“Wow, you have such a massive cock. And, oh my God, these piercings are fantastic!”
The words purred by none other than Clara have me abandoning any form of resolve I’m grasping at. I let myself free fall, headfirst, my brain propelling past the nausea in my throat and spilling all around me.
I push the door open to be greeted by Clara kneeling between Nikolai’s legs, her hands wrapped around his dick.
He sits on the bed, leaning back on his palms, and he’s only in his boxer briefs that Clara pulled down to free his cock.
Now she’s fisting him, watching, marveling, and admiring.
His gaze shoots to mine as soon as I stand in the doorway, his eyes darkening in an instant as his lips lift in a cruel smirk. “Call me babe, Clara.”
“I can’t wait for you to get this huge cock in me, babe.”
The snap happens in a fraction of a second.
A red haze crawls into my vision until I can only see that fucking color.
On the way here, I thought the raging anger was because Clara was being Clara again.
I thought it was because Nikolai was touching her.
But it’s not until this very moment that the depressing truth crashes into me.
I never gave two flying fucks about Clara. Zilch. Nada.
What’s driving me to the edge of myself isn’t her. It’s her touching Nikolai.
It’s not abouther. It’s abouthim.
Bloody fucking hell.
I shoulder through the door and grab her by a fistful of hair and haul her to her feet. She shrieks and stumbles, finally getting her claws off him.
“What the—” She cuts herself off when I jerk her to a standing position, eyes widening when they meet mine. “Bran…it’s not what you think. I was just lonely and hurt by your rejection and…and…”
“Shut it.” My voice is steady but firm, and her lips form anO.
I’ve never spoken to Clara in this tone. Not when she cheated. Not when everyone called her a gold-digging bitch.
All this time, I didn’t hate her.
I didn’t feelanythingfor her to hate her.
