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“Now.” He yanks my chair back, grabbing my arm to haul me to my feet.

Trying to wrench my arm from his grip, I stumble forward. “You’re hurting me.”

Oliver glowers but releases me. Rubbing my arm, I level a glare of my own at him. “I’m here willingly. What else do you want?”

“Stop provoking me.” He stomps toward the exit, leaving me to follow in his wake.

I glance back over my shoulder, meeting Elijah’s intense gaze from across the restaurant. His eyes bore into mine, pleading.

Part of me wants to run to him, to confess everything Oliver has done, but the rational part of my mind wins out. I already dragged Bash into this mess. I cannot drag Elijah into it, too. No matter how desperately I wish things were different. Oliver would destroy him, just as he’s destroyed me.

So I harden my expression. Even if it’s killing me inside.

Elijah’s jaw tightens, his eyes clouding. He wants to march over here and whisk me away from Oliver’s clutches. But it’s not that simple. Not yet, at least.

Elijah. I hope you forgive me.

His fists are clenched, his entire body rigid with tension.

Without a backward glance, I stumble slightly, blinking back tears, and sweep out after Oliver.

The car ride home is suffocating. Oliver’s grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled, his face mottled with fury as we speed through the darkened streets.

“Did you plan this with him?” Oliver’s eyes dart to mine for a moment before returning to the road.

“Plan what?”

“Don’t play dumb. Your fuck toy happened to show up at the same restaurant as us, and then our guests have to leave? You expect me to believe that’s a coincidence?”

Fuck toy? Elijah is twice the man. If there was a scale, Oliver wouldn’t even be on it.

“I did everything you asked tonight.” Despite the storm brewing within me, I keep my tone neutral. “I played the part of your loving wife, didn’t I?”

“Then why was he even there in the first place?”

“Maybe he’s still angry about your little ‘she’s my wife stunt’. But whatever his reasons, I had nothing to do with it.”

“Of course you didn’t.” The sarcastic tone in his voice is unmistakable. “Elijah’s petty interference changes nothing about our agreement.”

“Of course.” I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth.

The car screeches to a sudden stop, tires protesting so much that I have to brace myself against the dashboard.

We’re here already? But Oliver’s tirade was gaining steam. He never gives up so easily.

“Get out.” The snarl in Oliver’s voice drags my gaze to his. His eyes are flat and cold. “Get out. I’m done with you for tonight.”

I stare at him a heartbeat, disbelief warring with relief. Then I’m moving, fumbling with the door handle in my haste to escape.

The door pops open, and I tumble out, not bothering with goodbyes. Oliver is already throwing the car into gear, tires squealing as he pulls away from the curb with the door barely closed.

The wind bites through the thin fabric of my dress, but it’s not cold.

I’m free. Earlier than expected, but free all the same, and Elijah is the reason.

A laugh bubbles up, escaping on a cloudy breath. I wrap my arms around myself, alone on the sidewalk, yet lighter than I’ve felt in days.

For a long moment, I’m rooted to the ground, breathing in the quiet of the night. Taking a fortifying breath, I start walking in the direction of my building.

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