Page 29 of Bastian

“Did you see it coming when he ended things?”

Thylane’s smile falters, and I take great pleasure in the fact that, slowly but surely, she’s breaking. “We both decided our relationship had run its course.”

“Were you surprised that he was seen with someone just a day after he ended things with you?”

“I told yo–” She raises her voice but quickly tones it down. Clearing her throat, “I told you it was mutual, and no. I was not surprised he moved on quickly. That’s the type of man Bastian is.” She laughs it off.

Bingo.

Straight from the mouth of his ex-lover.

Now for the grand finale, Nessa drives the point home.

“Were you hurt when he chose to court a much younger woman who kind of looked like you?” Nessa says sympathetically and professionally.

I chuckle, satisfied when I notice Thylane’s right eye twitch. Then she replies through gritted teeth. “Please.” She scoffs. “She was just a distraction. Besides, look how that ended.” Thylane laughs cruelly. Bitch. I clench my jaw and suppress the urge to take my spike heels and shove them up her pompous ass.

Nessa jolts down everything Thylane is saying rapidly, while the French model is becoming more annoyed with every passing second.

“So, what you’re saying is that you were unaffected by him moving on from you so quickly and with someone younger. That’s what you’re saying, correct?”

Thylane stands, clearly fed up and feeling attacked. Good. Laughing, “That is who Bastian is. He wants nothing serious, and trust me, that foolish girl was one of many.” She says with a smile on her face.

Her words manage to penetrate my armor and sting. Fuck does the truth of her words sting, but I smile.

I smile because I got the comment I wanted from someone else’s point of view that wasn’t my own.

If I gave my side of things, it would make me look desperate somehow in the eyes of the many people who admire him, but if someone affiliated with the president and someone his own age says it, then that makes it look less obvious.

“Miss Bruna, I mean no off—”

“Oh, I know exactly what you meant. I want no part of this. I’m leaving, and you better not use any of this.” She points her finger haughtily in Nessa’s face before marching out of the room with her bodyguard following behind.

Standing, I button my suit and then step inside the interview room where Nessa is waiting with a triumphant smile on her face. “We got them. She looked pissed-as-fuck, and now we have a statement from someone who had a personal relationship with him.”

We got them, indeed.

Smiling back, I tell her. “Well done, Nessa. Add all their comments from today to the article. Write a draft and send it over so I can edit it before it’s published.”

“Will do.”

Tomorrow his world will get my version of what went down three years ago when he made me look like an idiot. A love-sick foolish girl who was just part of some sick revenge. The world witnessed my pain and still made him the victim.

The son who lost everything at the hands of my father.

I was a victim of his cruelty, yet everyone turned a blind eye to it because the poor rich boy was wronged by the mafia.

They justified his actions and mocked me.

Now, I have a voice to fight back.

A platform that I intend to take advantage of.

Let them see who they voted for.

Because yes, my father was a monster, but Sebastian Kenton is no saint.

ARIANNA

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