Page 112 of Bared Betrayal
“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on right now?”
“That dirty little whore has been cheating on you,” Elenor snaps at Sebastian. “She’s been fucking your father behind your back.”
“You cheated on me?” His eyes narrow, his expression hard lines of confusion. “With my dad?”
Words are lodged in my throat. I don’t know what to say, because even after the way Sebastian betrayed me, it still doesn’t justify what Gabriel and I did. Two wrongs can never make a right. Ever.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, unable to say anything else. No matter what Sebastian did, there is nothing I can say to defend myself and what I did.
Sebastian steps back, shock written on his face. He looks between the two of us before finally looking at me again with a mix of betrayal and pain that cuts right through my heart like knives. “You fucking bitch,” he seethes. “You little, cheap-ass, dirty, fucking whore.”
“That’s enough!” Gabriel steps closer to me, and I find comfort in his presence. “It was wrong of us both,” he says, then takes my hand and squeezes it lightly. “We won’t apologize for this because there are no excuses for what we did. But I will not allow you to speak to her like that.”
“I never meant for things to turn out like this,” I say softly, my voice heavy with emotion.
Sebastian huffs and stares icily at me, his face an emotionless mask. “And how, exactly, did you think it would turn out with you fucking my dad behind my back?”
“It was wrong. And I’m sorry.” I swallow, exhaustion clamping down on me hard. “But it’s over, Sebastian.”
“No!” Sebastian roars as I move to leave. His roar of anguish grows as he lunges forward, slamming me into the wall with a deafening thud. But before he can finish his sentence, Gabriel rips him off me. The air is heavy with tension as I try to steady myself on my feet, and then suddenly, there is a sickening crack as Gabriel’s fist collides with Sebastian’s face. Blood spurts out in a pulsating stream as Sebastian crumples to the floor.
I gasp, watching him clasp his nose. “What the fuck did you do? You motherfucker!” His hand is covered in bright red blood. “I’m in the middle of shooting a movie, you son of a bitch!” His voice is all throaty, crimson bleeding into his grandmother’s expensive carpets.
But Gabriel isn’t apologetic about it. He’s raging as his towering figure looms menacingly over his son, expressionless and threatening. His voice is low and controlled but dripping with venom and hatred when he speaks. “Don’t you ever touch her again,” he says slowly and deliberately. He then grabs my hand and grips it tight, stomping close to where Elenor stands, staring in shock at what just happened. Gabriel’s cold gaze pierces her as he speaks again, this time with more menace and malice than before. “And if I ever see you come near me or Kallie again, if I even catch a whiff of you stirring up trouble for us, I will rip you apart like the worthless piece of shit you are. Do you understand me?”
The tension in the air is so thick you can almost see it, like a veil of destruction shrouding the room. For a moment, no one moves; it’s so quiet, it makes my ears hurt.
Fear crushes Elenor’s features, and a part of me relishes the sight. I can see she’s holding her breath, as she doesn’t say anything. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her rendered speechless.
“I said,” Gabriel moves close, his face hovering inches from her. “Do you. Understand me?”
She finally nods, her body stiff and unmoving. She’s biting the inside of her cheeks as if she’s trying really hard not to crumble.
Slowly, he steps back and meets my gaze; he knows I’m done here, too. All I want now is for him to take me away from this nightmare. “Are you okay?” His voice is gentle, his eyes soft.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “Just…take me home.” I look up, and he’s gazing deeply into my eyes. “To your place.”
Epilogue
KALLIE
Three Months Later
Butterflies are swarmingin my stomach. The excitement, the anticipation is thrilling. It always is whenever we play at Myth.
I can feel his eyes on me as I approach the bar. There’s an unspoken understanding between us that we only play with each other, making everything so much more intense.
As I order our drinks, he joins me at the counter and leans in close. “What are you wearing under that coat?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, Mr. King,” I tease, practically panting just thinking about what is to come once we venture to the back room of Myth where all kinds of debauchery take place.
“I wanted to be inside you earlier at the gallery,” he whispers. “If there weren’t so many customers demanding an audience with the artist, I would have had you on my lap keeping my cock all nice and warm.”
I smile, thinking of how he lurked around the gallery, watching me as I answered questions from potential buyers. I love it when he watches me, telling me with his eyes all the dirty things he wants to do with me.
Gabriel and I both decided to make something good of the shitstorm that hit when the world found out who I really was. We opened a gallery for victims of sexual abuse who use art as a medium for their pain. Any of them can show their work, but a percentage of every sale goes to a charity of my choosing, providing support for victims of sexual violence.
Our last two shows have sold out each time. Gabriel swears he has nothing to do with that, but I know better. He might be a beast in a suit, but his heart is made of gold.
