Mathew scrubbed his cheek. This was the side of him Dakota probably never saw before. The competitive, calculating side that would gladly destroy her if it served his purpose.
“We’ll see about that.” Mathew shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking toward the elevator. Casual. Taunting. “Dakota and I have a deeper connection than you realize.”
Red. All I could see was red. And Dakota’s face when that bombshell hit.
I was the one who put that hurt there. My lie. But Mathew? He was the one who’d loaded the gun and pulled the trigger.
“If you really cared about her, you never would’ve hurt her tonight,” I said.
His smile was cold, calculating. “She needed to see the truth about you.”
I lunged, but the boys held me back.
“That’s enough.” Frank and Carl were buttoning their suits, heading for the elevator. Professional disappointment radiated from them in waves.
“Careful there, Axel,” Mathew warned with mock concern as the businessmen vanished from my penthouse. “Your deal isn’t inked yet.”
“You came here to sabotage this,” Jace snarled at Mathew, shoving him away from me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered that I’d probably just blown the one shot at saving my business. But right now, I didn’t give a shit. The influencers, on the other hand, made no move to leave. Of course not. This was social media gold.
#EngagementDrama.
“You’re not good enough for her,” I snarled.
“I was there when she built that online persona. I helped shape it. I know the real Dakota. The one who needs someone to take care of her.”
The possessive way he talked about “shaping” her made my blood boil. Like she was some kind of project.
“Let me go,” I snapped, shaking free of Blake’s grip. I stalked to the other side of the room, shoving my hands through my hair, and glowered at Mathew. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
“Gladly.” His smile was all teeth. No warmth.
My boys flanked me, bodies coiled for violence. Ready to jump in if I completely lost it.
Which I was about to.
“You’re lucky my friends have better judgment than me,” I said through gritted teeth, “because if they weren’t here, so help me God, I would beat the living shit out of you.”
“My, my. Such a temper.” Mathew tsked like a disappointed teacher. “This is exactly why Dakota needs protection from men like you. You know what? You guys had better watch her for bruises. I’d hate to find out you’re violent toward women. Although, given your track record with women …”
I lunged for him, slipping past my boys this time, and slammed him against the wall so hard, the picture frames rattled. My hands found his throat and squeezed until his smug smile finally disappeared.
Around me, chaos erupted. My boys tried to pry me off. The influencers and girls began screaming. But all I could hear was the sound of Mathew’s ragged breathing and the blood rushing in my ears.
This was for Dakota.
This was for every tear she’d cried because of him.
This was for?—
The elevator dinged.
41
LET HIM CARRY YOU IN A BLOOD-SOAKED GOWN. IT’S CALLED MAKING AN ENTRANCE. #DRAMATICRETURN
DAKOTA
