Page 31 of Possessive Billionaire's Twisted Hunt

The kisses grew more frantic, more desperate. Christian's hands roamed her body, his fingers sliding up her waist before palming her breast. His head dipped suddenly, his mouth capturing her nipple through the fabric—until the reality of their surroundings hit him. They were in an open hallway.

Ivy took the chance to shove him away with all the strength she could muster. She pushed him off, breathless.

Christian's gaze was wild, hunger raging in his dark eyes like a man starved for his only salvation. He looked at her with an unmistakable greed, but Ivy turned away, storming out without a single glance back.

Christian stood there, watching her retreating figure as she entered the elevator. The doors closed, taking her away. His breaths were ragged, uneven, the fire inside him still far from extinguished. Without hesitation, he followed, stalking behind. But by the time he reached the ground floor, she was already getting into a cab and left the place.

A frantic desperation overtook him, jealousy clawing at his chest like a beast unchained. His mind burned with the thought of her in someone else's bed, another man touching her, kissing her. The rage consumed him.

Snatching his car keys from Samuel, he climbed into his vehicle and sped off, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.

His vision blurred with fury. Her words echoed in his head like a curse.

She had a boyfriend. An ex. She had dated someone.

She had said she’d sleep with others.

The thought of it burned a hole through his mind, scorching every rational thought, every ounce of control.

He didn't see the turn.

The car slammed into a wall. The deafening crash echoed through the night, metal screeching, the horn blaring in an unbroken wail. Smoke billowed from the crushed hood, the engine hissing as if it, too, had been consumed by his fury.

***

The next day, Sawyer stormed into the hospital room, his expression dark with frustration. His gaze immediately landed on the man in the hospital bed, and he let out a sharp exhale.

Christian sat in the hospital bed, a bandage wrapped around his forehead, a cut marring his sharp features, and one hand secured in a temporary cast.

Sawyer marched over, his brows drawn together. "What the fuck is going on, man?" he demanded. "How the hell did your car flip? You almost died!"

Christian frowned, the memories of the previous night searing through him. He leaned back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling before muttering, "Ivy said she had a boyfriend." His voice was low, rough. "I got jealous, drove off… lost control. Didn’t see the turn."

Sawyer ran a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly. "Jesus fucking Christ, Christian." His hand settled on his hip, his eyes blazing. "Can’t you pay a little more fucking attention to yourself when it comes to Ivy? One of these days, you’re gonna get yourself killed because of her."

Christian ignored the outburst and instead reached for the glass of water on the bedside table.

Sawyer, exasperated, yanked out his phone and quickly dialed Ivy’s number.

The call rang for a few moments before she answered.

"Ivy," Sawyer said immediately. "Christian was in an accident. Can you come see him? He’s at the City Hospital."

Silence.

On the other end, Ivy's body went rigid. She shot to her feet instinctively—but then, just as she took a step, she froze, her stomach dropping.

‘What am I doing?’ she thought. ‘He doesn’t matter to me anymore. I have to remember that. Again and again. He can’t have control over me again.’

Steeling herself, she forced her voice to remain indifferent. "Is he alright?"

"He’s better," Sawyer replied. "But he’s injured. When are you coming?"

"I’m not." Her fingers tightened around her phone, her throat constricting. Saying those words wasn’t easy, even though she had promised herself she would stay cold, that she wanted nothing to do with Christian anymore. Still, it hurt.

"Since you’re there, you can take care of him," she added. "I don’t understand why you’re calling me. What does this have to do with me? I’m not a doctor."

Sawyer’s patience snapped. His brows furrowed, his lips curling in anger as his fists clenched.

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