I shake my head, stepping closer, my anger burning through my veins. “Youthinkthey want this. But let me make somethingvery, very clear to you, Owen.” I tilt my chin up, forcing him to meet my eyes. “Ido not want this.”
His smirk falters.
I press forward. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but you don’t get to use me. Not for PR. Not for some sad attempt to relive your glory days.” I gesture to the ring still sitting in the velvet box in his hand. “And you sure as hell don’t get to propose to me on live TV withouteverhaving a conversation with me first.”
He scoffs, crossing his arms. “Ash, be reasonable. You and I have history. It makes sense. It’s what people expect. It’s what Shelley expects. You know she loves the drama I add to the tabloids.”
“I don’t give afuckwhat people expect. Especially Shelley, if she’s behind this.” My voice drops, deadly quiet, and for the first time, I see a flicker of uncertainty cross his face. Good. He should be scared.
I lean in, my voice razor-sharp. “What Idocare about is the four men I just spent the last two weeks with. The ones who don’t need a stage or an audience to prove they love me. The ones Iactuallybelong to.” I inhale, letting the words hit their mark. “You never had me, Owen. And you never will.”
His jaw tightens, and I see the moment he realizes he’s lost. That I won’t play his game. His face darkens, his charm slipping like a mask with a crack too wide to hide.
“You just made a big mistake,” he says, his voice low.
I smile sweetly. “No, Owen.Youdid.”
And with that, I turn on my heel and walk out, leaving him—and whatever fantasy he’d built—behind.
CHAPTER 53
Xayden
My phone pings,vibrating against the table next to me. I ignore it at first, too focused on arguing with Jake about whether or not we should add an acoustic set to the next show.
Then it pings again. And again. And again.
Annoyed, I grab it, expecting some meaningless tour update or maybe a ridiculous tabloid take. But the second my eyes land on the notification, my breath stalls.
"Ashlyn Robinson & Primal Pulse—Over for Good? Exclusive Details on Her Engagement to Owen Hale!"
The words slap me in the face. A fucking gut punch. My stomach twists as I tap the article, and there it is—a picture of Ash on some talk show set, Owen fucking Hale kneeling in front of her with a ring box open.
The fuck?
"Todd," I snap, my voice cold as I hold up the screen. He looks up from his own phone, his brows pulling together as he takes in my expression.
Then he sees it.
Everything shifts. The whole bus feels different, like the air has been sucked out of it.
"What?" Jake asks, already reaching for his own phone.
"Tell me this is bullshit," I grit out, but my voice feels off, rougher than it should be.
West snatches the phone out of my hand before I can stop him, his eyes scanning the headline, then the picture. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t have to. His entire body locks up, tension rolling off him in waves.
Jake exhales angrily, shaking his head. "No way."
"She wouldn’t do that," Todd says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s daring someone to argue with him.
I don’t know what to think.
It’sright there. A photo, a headline, a hundred media outlets picking it up and running with it.
My chest is tight. Too tight. I don’t fuckingdoubtAsh, but this? This is a nightmare.
"Then why didn’t she shut it down?" I snap, raking a hand through my hair. "If it’s fake, why didn’t she shut that shit down right then and there?"
