Page 146 of Inflame

Ethan Maxwell is about to get checkmated.

* * *

Like most of my ideas, this one sounded better in my head. I just can’t control my curiosity over Ethan’s alternate residence and have to see for myself. Ever since I learned he has been lying to me about just how much money he makes, I’ve been itching to get my own look at everything I missed out on while we were still together.

While the prick had me living in a rundown fuck pad, he was sneaking away to his luxurious abode—which is practically a mansion. My eyes scan the residence, with the perfectly manicured lawn and the magazine-worthy views. All the time we dated—or should I sayfucked—he kept this pristine palace tucked away for safekeeping, careful not to allow my presence to taint its beauty.

Well, too fucking bad.

I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere until I get my words out. Ethan’s been on me ever since I told him off at the Parkhouse Plaza. He started this shitstorm, so it’s on him to handle my wrath. He used me, and I was naïve enough to let him. But that’s all about to change.

Grabbing my phone out of the pocket of my dress, I take a selfie with my middle finger raised in front of his home and then type out my message.

Claire: You want me? Come and fucking try to get me.

Placing my device back into my pocket, I walk along the perimeter of the house. Ethan could be anywhere right now, but I’m positive he’ll be standing in front of me soon enough. Then it’ll be easier for me to get a punch in on his pretty face. Heaven knows he deserves it.

I find the playground in the backyard that is behind the pool. Everything is so obvious now that I know the truth. Ethan was never going to commit to me. It was never part of his ideal plan. Instead, I was strung along until he either got back with Deena or found someone better.

Sitting down on the swing, I kick my feet out to get momentum. All these months, I was a temporary fix for Ethan’s sex drive. When things started fizzling out, I should have known he found another source to keep him satisfied. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I’m never going back to that fucker ever again.

“I see breaking and entering will be an addition to your rap sheet.”

My neck jerks toward his voice, as my stomach drops. “I entered. But it’s you I’m going to break.”

“You owe me money.”

“I owe you nothing.”

“Oh, you most definitely owe me. You have the Hoffman brothers trying to derail me.”

“As usual, I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ethan.”

“It’s low, Claire, to get them to mess with my career.”

Using my feet to slow down the swing, I jump off before it fully stops. Dressed in an expensive suit, I can tell he is returning back home from something important. His foul mood is present on his face, and a part of me silently gloats over being the reason why. I hope I inconvenienced him, just as much as he’s been inconveniencing me.

From being forced to move, to having to go to a damn storage facility, to getting kicked out of one of the best restaurants in town…

To say, “I’m over it,” is only putting it mildly.

“What do you want from me?” I demand, taking a step closer with each spoken word. My voice is calm and steady, but the adrenaline rushing through me is anything but. It’s as if I’m charged and ready to snap. I wave a hand into the air, toward all his possessions. “You have everything you could possibly want here, and yet you can’t keep my memory out of your fucking head. What, Ethan? Are you going to pull the whole ‘if you can’t have me, no one can’? Is that what this is? And have you even told your precious Deena the truth? Because I bet she’s curious as to why you are fucking her but thinking about me. You need to cut the ties and leave me to live my own life. Stop texting me. Stop trying to get my attention. Are you bored? Is that it?”

“I want to continue our arrangement.”

My eyes twitch as I study his face. What is he talking about? “You’re going to need to clarify. I have no clue what you’re even saying—yet again.”

His eyes roam over my body, taking extra time at every curve along the journey. He’s so gross. How did I not see it before?

“Be my little side chick.”

“Your wh—”

“Spread your pretty legs,” he says, gesturing to my crotch, “and I’ll make it worth it like I’ve done all along.”

“You are nuts. Like pathologically insane.”

He takes a step closer, forcing every hair on my arms to stand in salute. “You’ve always had a smartass mouth on you. It’s about time you learned some respect. I’ll have fun silencing you with my cock shoved down your throat.”

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