But Charlie—predictably, infuriatingly—has never understood when a conversation has concluded.
His gaze drifts lazily across the lawn. “Man.” He sighs, stretching the word out. “Daisy gave me the best head of my life in that shed. I guess we can compare notes now.”
Something inside me breaks.
Her name. From his mouth. Twisted into something vulgar.
She’smine.
I move before I even register the decision—my hand fisting into his collar, yanking him forward with enough force to rip the breath from his throat. His back hits the stone ledge of the fountain with a muted thud.
“You have no right,” I growl, each word cutting, “to speak of what’s mine like that.”
Mine.
It’s a word I’ve always associated with territorial men who grunt more than speak.
But now I understand.
My fingers clench tighter into the fabric of Charlie’s collar, dragging him closer until we’re nearly nose to nose.
“You will never speak of Daisy like that again,” I say, voice low and deliberate. “Do you understand?”
His smirk falters, a flicker of confusion passing through his eyes before fear replaces it.
“Alright—easy—” he mutters, squirming, trying to laugh it off.
My knuckles go white against the collar of his shirt. “Do you understand me, Charlie?”
His eyes dart—left, right, then back to mine. There’s a flicker of real fear now. His throat bobs.
“Y–yes. Christ. Fine.”
Not good enough. “Say it.”
He swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs under my grip.
“I’ll never disrespect Daisy ever again,” he chokes out.
I won’t hit him.
That’s not who I am.
But I’m not above a little retribution.
I shove him. Just enough to watch the shock flicker across his face, to see his balance shift, to hear the delicious crack of panic in his voice as his arms flail—
And he topples.
Right into the fountain.
Water explodes in every direction, soaking the stone path, the manicured grass, the tailored suit he no doubt spent a fortune on. A blur of limbs and spluttering indignation.
“What the fuck?” he howls, choking on fountain water, blinking furiously.
His voice barely cuts through the blood still thundering in my ears.
“Edward, what the hell are you doing?” Sophia’s shriek carries from the Regency room window.
