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“We’ll see about that.” Oliver glances at his watch. “Let’s go.”

His fingers dig into my elbow, hauling me up and jerking me toward the door. I struggle in vain as his grip tightens.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Elijah’s voice rings out from behind us.

With a snarl on his face, Oliver whirls around.

“Let her go.”

I’ve never seen Elijah this furious before.

Oliver scoffs. “Big words. This is between me and my wife.”

“Ex-wife.” Elijah takes another menacing towards Oliver.

“Oh, no. Wife is correct.”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Elijah’s gaze bores into me, eyes swirling with hurt and confusion. “You’re still married?”

My heart sinks. I should have told him about this sooner.

“It’s not what you think. Oliver was supposed to sign the divorce papers weeks ago.”

Oliver snickers. “Don’t sugarcoat it, darling. You’ve been keeping your devoted boy toy in the dark about us, using him for your career. But you don’t need to anymore.”

That conniving bastard.

“That’s not true!” I glare at Oliver before turning back to Elijah. “I was going to tell you, I swear.”

Elijah is silent, jaw clenched. “When? Before or after I asked you to marry me?”

“I...”

“Is this some sick joke? A game?”

I don’t have a choice. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“You made me feel bad for being engaged, led me on... all the while, you were still married to that bastard?”

“No, Elijah, please.” I reach for his arm, but he wrenches away. The disgust etched into his features cuts me deeper than any knife.

“Save your lies and excuses. You’re clearly not the woman I thought you were.”

“It’s not like that!” I take a step toward him, and Oliver’s grip on my arm tightens, holding me back.

“Get your hands off her before I remove them myself.” Elijah’s fiery gaze snaps to Oliver, who seems unfazed by the threat.

“Temper, temper. Wouldn’t want things to get... messy, would we?” Oliver asks.

Elijah surges forward, but I put up a hand to stop him. The last thing we need is him hitting Oliver to a pulp.

“Please, both of you, stop!”

Oliver’s hand runs up my side as he leans down to my ear, lowering his voice so that Elijah won’t be able to hear. “Do I need to remind you of what’s on line here?”

Observing us, Elijah makes a strangled noise, hands balling into fists.

I meet his eyes, and for a quick second, I think there’s tenderness. But it’s gone, replaced by hate.

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