“Say goodnight,” he commanded, his voice low and firm. "Even if it is to a piece of shit like Nick Maddox."
"Love you too, Delgado," Nick retorted.
I had never defied him before. The thought made my heart pound against my ribcage like a caged bird desperate to break free. But Nick’s words echoed in my mind, relentless: “You think that ring makes you untouchable? It just makes you his.”
I inhaled deeply, tasting rebellion on my tongue.
“I’m not ready to leave yet,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
For a heartbeat, Gary froze. He hadn’t expected that. His expression shifted from surprise to something darker.
“I said. We’re leaving.” His tone dropped lower, cutting through the noise around us like a knife.
But for the first time in our relationship, I didn’t obey. I jerked my wrist free from his grasp and turned back to the bar.
Nick chuckled softly, low and slow, as if he relished the scene unfolding before him. “Damn. Maybe there’s a little fight in you after all.”
I glanced up at him, pulse racing wildly in response to his words. This was new territory for me; I had never done something like this before. It felt dangerous—exhilarating—and for once; it felt good.
Behind me, I heard Gary storm off with a huff, frustration radiating off him like heat from a fire. But even as he disappeared into the crowd, I knew this wasn’t over.
Nick watched me with those dark eyes of his, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re gonna regret that, princess.”
I already did—but at the same time… I didn’t.
Then he leaned in closer, breath warm against my ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
The moment hung heavy between us; it felt electric and reckless all at once. My heart raced as temptation washed over me like a tidal wave. This was undoubtedly the biggest mistake of my life… yet somehow, it also felt like freedom wrapped in chaos.
And I knew then—I was going to make it, anyway.
Chapter 2
Nick
The elevator hummed, but the tension? That was all her.
Kennedy stood across from me like she hadn’t just thrown a grenade into her perfect little life. Flushed cheeks. Chest rising too fast. Eyes still wide from the stunt she just pulled. Her body hadn’t caught up with the fact she’d just told her golden boy fiancé to fuck off in front of a room full of sharks.
And now she was trapped in a metal box with me.
Good.
She looked like a spark just waiting to catch fire.
I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, staring her down like I was deciding whether to eat her alive or let her sweat it out a little longer.
“You already regretting this, princess?” My voice was low—taunting. I wanted to see if she’d fold now that the leash was off.
She squared up like she had something to prove. “I don’t regret anything.”
I smirked. There it was. That fire in her throat, sharp and stupidly brave. Like she didn’t realize she was standing a few feet from a man who didn’t do mercy.
“No shit?” I pushed off the wall and stalked closer. “Not even leaving your little knight in shining bullshit upstairs? He looked real heartbroken.”
She scoffed, eyes rolling, but there was steel behind it. “He’s not a knight. He’s a dictator in Dior.”
That earned a low laugh from me. Sharp. Surprised. She had claws—dull from disuse, maybe, but still there. And I wanted to be the one to sharpen them.
