“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. “I needed air.”
“Sure you did,” he says, leaning casually against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on mine.
“Don’t do this,” I say, turning my back on him and wishing he’d go away. “Not tonight.”
“Do what?” he asks, feigning innocence. “Call you out? Come on, Little Sinner, let’s not pretend you didn’t come out here hoping I’d follow.”
“Go back inside, Dominic,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “You’ve got company waiting for you.”
He chuckles, the sound closer, and I hear the soft scuff of his boots on the pavement. “You think I give a shit about her?”
I whirl around, my fists clenched at my sides. “I don’t know. From where I was sitting, it sure as hell looked like it.”
“What’s the matter?” he taunts, his tone dripping with mockery. “Jealous?”
“Fuck you, Dominic,” I snap, my voice trembling with anger. “I never took you for a liar.”
That gets his attention. His smirk falters, his jaw tightening as he steps even closer to me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You said I’m yours,” I spit, my voice trembling with rage. “Isn’t that what you said? That I’m yours, and no one else gets to touch me? So tell me something—how does that work when you’re fucking whoever you want?”
His eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flashing in them, but I don’t stop. I can’t.
“You don’t get to have it both ways,” I say, my voice breaking slightly. “You don’t get to call me yours and then act like I don’t fucking matter. And with someone who is the complete opposite of me? If you wanted to hurt me, well, congratulations, Dominic, you have. You’ve made me feel like nothing.”
“You’re not nothing,” he growls, his voice low and sharp. “Don’t fucking twist this, Aria.”
“I’m not twisting anything!” I snap, my voice rising. “You can’t even admit what you’re doing. You’re sitting there, letting some perfect little Barbie climb all over you, while I—” My throat tightens, and I swallow hard, willing the tears back.
I walk up to him and push his shoulder. “I haven’t let Mason touch me since the beach house because it felt like I was betraying you! How fucked up is that? He’s myfiancéand it felt like I was betrayingyou!And now you’re here, flaunting your next woman in front of me like you didn’t fucking brand me!”
His jaw tightens, the smirk finally slipping from his face, replaced by something more dangerous. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” I challenge, my hands trembling as I glare at him. “You’re the one who made all those promises, Dominic. You’re the one who couldn’t stop saying I was yours. So what the fuck is this?”
“It’s me doing whatever the fuck I want,” he snaps, stepping closer, his voice sharp enough to cut. “You left, Aria. You made your choice.”
“And you didn’t stop me,” I shoot back, my chest tight with anger and confusion because I don’t even know what the fuck I want anymore. “You just stood there and let me go. So don’t stand here and act like this is my fault.”
He stares at me, his eyes burning, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say something—something that might make this all make sense. But then he smirks again, and it feels like a slap in the face.
“You’re cute when you’re angry,” he says, his tone infuriatingly casual. “But you’re wasting your breath. You don’t get to tell me how to live my life, Aria. Not anymore.”
I take a shaky step back, my chest heaving. If this is how he wants to play it, then I need to end it now. I need to stop being a fucking coward and chose between whatever fucked up thing is going on between us, and the peaceful life I deserve. So, with my heart shattering, I say the words I should have said a long time ago.
“Dominic,” I whisper, my voice breaking, “stop.”
The look on his face shifts, the smirk slipping as his eyes flicker with something almost like hurt. I don’t wait to hear his response. I turn and walk back inside, my legs trembling with every step, my heart pounding like it’s trying to escape my chest.
The noise of the bar hits me like a wave, and I make my way to the counter, needing something—anything—to dull the ache in my chest. I order another drink, the bartender sliding it over quickly, and I down half of it in one go.
I lean against the bar, gripping my glass tighter than necessary as the bartender pours another round for me. The noise of the crowd is a dull roar in the background, but my focus is elsewhere.
My chest feels tight, my head swirling with Dominic’s words, his smirk, the infuriating way he taunted me outside. Like none of this mattered. Like I didn’t matter.
I know it’s unfair of me to think this way, but I can’t help it! He did this to me; he made me think that he actually gave a fuck about me, but now I know he never did. I was just a prize he wanted to break. Nothing more, nothing less.
The sting of his dismissal still burns, and I take another sip of my drink, the alcohol doing nothing to dull the ache twisting in my chest. I hate him. I hate that he can make me feel so small with a single look.