“Sit your ass down,” Jelani hissed.
“I can’t sit here and pretend like I don’t see her.” My voice cracked as the pressure started to mount in my chest. My girl was right there. I could feel her pain from across the room, and all I wanted to do was make him pay for every second she’d had to spend with him.
“Then let’s leave,” Jelani said, peeling off two blue faces and tossing them on the table. “We do this the right way. We’re not making a scene here.”
I looked over one last time. Marcus was so consumed with her that he didn’t notice where her attention was. His arm was slung over her shoulder as he kissed on her like they were this picture-perfect couple. But her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I swear she flinched every time his lips touched her.
She shook her head, just the slightest. But I caught it.
Being that close to her and having to walk away almost broke me.
“Get me the fuck out of here.”
Turning my back on her felt like betrayal, but staying would’ve been worse for both of us.
CHAPTER25
JASMINE MILLER
I’d never wantedto scream so badly in my life.
My heart shattered as I watched Cash and Jelani leave the restaurant. He was right there —close enough to tear this place apart if I’d just given him a sign. But he didn’t know what I knew.
Marcus never traveled without security. If Cash had made a move, it would’ve been a bloodbath.
“You’re not drinking your wine?” Marcus asked casually, sipping his Old Fashioned. I didn’t understand how he was acting like this shit was normal, like he hadn’t just choked me out twenty-four hours prior.
I stared down at the glass. My throat ached when I swallowed, and the skin along my neck was slightly bruised and tender. I tried to cover up the marks as best I could, but they still peeked through.
Did Cash see them?
For a moment, I pictured myself having a reality TV moment and throwing the Sauvignon Blanc in Marcus’s face, but I couldn’t afford to cut up in here. He already told me he had NYPD paid off. Running, or attempting to get help, was pointless.
I grabbed it and chugged it down. “Happy?” I flashed him a fake smile.
He chuckled, swirling the ice in his glass. “I don’t know why you got such an attitude. It’s a nice night, we’re out, and you look amazing.” He leaned back and tipped his chin at me. “You know how much that dress cost?”
The wine settled in my stomach like acid. “Like I give a shit. You could’ve gotten it from SHEIN for all I care.” I rolled my eyes.
I didn’t even bother hiding the contempt in my voice. My whole body was on edge like I was expecting him to go ape-shit again. Marcus insisted on painting this delusion of us being together, and I refused to play along.
What made it worse was the realization that, technically, I could stand up and walk out of here. Same way I could leave his penthouse, but he was too connected—I didn’t know how deep his web went. It was a mind fuck that made me feel small and pathetic.
And I didn’t care what Amber said earlier. There was no trusting a man this volatile.
His smile slipped, his eyes darkening for a beat before the mask snapped back into place. “You and that fucking mouth, Jasmine.”
Our server appeared with our food, temporarily breaking up the tense moment. Marcus had ordered for both of us, because why wouldn’t he? My stomach growled as they set the plate of roast chicken and truffle mac and cheese in front of me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I was hungry, but I didn’t trust myself to keep anything down.
Seeing Cash tonight—knowing he was here, that he came for me—was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
Marcus twirled his pasta with his fork. “Eat,” he ordered. “You not about to be starving yourself to spite me. I hear your damn stomach.”
I leaned forward and rested my head in my hand. “Have it wrapped up,” I grumbled. “I’ll eat it in my room.”
“You’re being a brat,” he snapped as he shoved a forkful of food in his mouth.
“Brat? You mean hostage? I don’t even want to be here—you could’ve left me at your house.”
