35. Thirty-Five
Thirty-Five
DYLAN
“Dylan!” Marie’s voice rang out.
She was madly waving her hands in the air. I offered her a quick wave in return, before making my way through the crowd toward our table.
To my absolute horror the only empty seat left was next to Steven.
Of course.
As if this evening wasn’t already challenging enough, I was forced into sitting next to Steven for the duration of it.
A waiter moved around the table, offering flutes of champagne. I accepted one without thinking, my shaky fingers wrapping around the delicate stem.
My body was still coming down from the sex in the storeroom. Keeping with the theme of putting myself through unnecessary pain, I scanned the room looking for Brax.
It didn’t take long to find him.
His broad shoulders unmistakable even from a distance.
Oh, shit.
The Omega table was only one row ahead of ours, just three tables down to the left. The proximity was closer than I expected.
Brax’s back was to me. He appeared relaxed, his focus directed toward the woman sitting beside him.
A chill ran through me.
Ally.
Right fucking there.
Her straightened brown hair shimmered under the lights, and while I couldn't see her face, I sure as shit could see her hand on his leg.
A knot tightened in my stomach as I watched them interact. They were having an intimate conversation.
A pang of jealousy flickered inside me, sharp and unwelcome.
I wondered if she could smell me on his breath. My thoughts went to the lipstick I smeared all over his cock.
I immediately felt my cheeks flush, thinking how weird it was that not even ten minutes ago his cock was rammed down my throat.
And now I had to watch him play happy families with his girlfriend.
I quickly looked away, taking a generous sip of my champagne.
I told myself to relax.
“Is that Brax over there?” Steven's voice cut through.
He'd been staring at me. Watching me, watching them .
I didn’t even have time to respond before the MC’s booming voice commanded the room’s attention. The crowd hushed almost immediately, everyone shifting their focus to the stage as the MC’s voice rang out. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! Thank you all for being here tonight!"
A cheer erupted from the crowd, spontaneous and loud, some voices more enthusiastic than others. I could already hear the slurring of words and the high-pitched whoops of people who’d obviously pre-gamed a little too hard.
I scanned the room.
I estimated about six or seven hundred people were in attendance. No wonder it felt overwhelming.
"Entrees will be served shortly, followed by mains," the MC continued, raising his voice to keep everyone’s attention. "But for now, please enjoy each other’s company and the tunes from Wilson Symbols, our fantastic band for the evening!"
The crowd responded with more cheers, but I barely noticed. I was too busy trying to ignore the fact that Brax, mere feet away from me, was sitting with Ally.
I should pretend to be unwell and just leave.
Before anyone at our table could strike up a conversation, Marie tapped her champagne flute, proposing a toast.
"Before you all get carried away," Marie said, her smile wide and warm as she lifted her glass, "I’d like to propose a toast to our incredible team. We’re doing great things. I hope you’ve all had a productive week and enjoyed the conference. Enjoy yourselves tonight." Marie raised her glass, as did everyone else.
One by one, the others around the table followed suit, lifting their own glasses to join her in the toast. “Cheers” echoed around the table, glasses clinking.
I lifted the champagne glass to my lips and took a small sip.
But the taste was momentary, as I felt Steven lean into me. His voice was menacing. “I know what you’re doing, you know.”
I froze for a heartbeat, the glass still at my lips.
A waiter appeared at that exact moment, his white gloves setting down a basket of freshly baked bread on the table. I waited until he had moved off, taking the moment to compose myself before I responded.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I'm talking about,” he said simply. His tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent to it. "With Brax."
I tilted my head slightly, just enough to show I was paying attention, but not enough to give him anything.
“Yeah? What do you think you know, Steven?”
My voice had taken on an edge. His insinuation irritated me.
His smirk grew. The bastard clearly enjoyed my discomfort.
“I see the way you look at each other," he said, his eyes flicking over to Brax and Ally, who were now laughing their annoying heads off. "I’ve seen you together. You're having an affair."
I bit back my growing panic.
"Eat shit, Steven," I hissed, my heart pounding. "What’s it to you anyway?"
His smile widened, but it wasn’t a friendly expression.
"Well," he said, leaning in further. "I'm not quite sure yet."
“Steven, who, what and how I fuck is none of your business.”
Steven, taken back by my brash answer, nearly choked imagining that scenario. “You’re a grown woman, you can make your own choices," he said with a shrug. "I’m just saying… I’m a fan of bad girls.”
God, he made my skin crawl.
I turned my attention back to Brax and Ally. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.
Instead, I drained my champagne glass and reached for the bottle, immediately pouring myself another glass.
"Dylan?”
I turned to find Marie standing behind me, her hands gentle as they pressed onto my shoulders.
She leaned down, and whispered, “Everything alright?”
“Yes, everything’s fine Marie,” I lied, giving her a somber smile.
She gave my shoulders a supportive squeeze. She knew I was lying but didn't push it.
I considered excusing myself from the table to search for Taylor when movement caught my attention.
Once again, I was drawn back to Brax and Ally.
Her arm draped casually over the back of Brax’s chair, her fingers lightly grazing the back of his neck in that way people do when they’re comfortable with each other.
A nauseating wave of disgust washed over me.
I needed to stop looking. I had to stop looking.
Reluctantly, I tore my eyes away from them. But of course, fate had other plans.
I was about to excuse myself, when I spotted Greg making his way toward our table, moving through the crowd with his usual confidence.
I braced myself. It was time to pretend, to slip back into the role I had been playing all week—the calm, professional, collected version of myself that had nothing to hide.
Marie stood up first, her smile welcoming, as always. I followed suit, standing as well. Greg was my client, after all, and I had to pretend everything was fine. I couldn’t let the cracks in my facade show, not in front of him.
“Dylan, you look beautiful,” Greg said, his voice friendly, like he didn't try to fuck me over by inviting Ally here.
I summoned a fake smile. “Thanks, Greg,” I replied.
"Dylan, I’d like you to come over and meet Henderson," Greg said, his voice casual, yet with a hint of business-like authority. "He’s the VP at Omega and wasn’t able to attend our meeting earlier this week. He’s just come back from knee surgery, so he’s a bit ginger on his feet. Otherwise, I would’ve brought the old man over myself. Would you mind joining me for a quick introduction?"
My stomach tightened at the request.
Oh no. Please no.
I steeled myself and took a deep breath. This was something I couldn’t avoid, not without looking like I was trying to hide something.
I nodded, squaring my shoulders. I responded with the calmest tone I could muster, "Of course."
Greg looped his arm through mine. It felt like I was walking right into the lions den.
This motherfucker knew what he was doing.
He was holding my feet to the flames and didn't care that I was burning alive.
Brax noticed my presence before I'd even gotten to their table. He must’ve felt the subtle change in the air. His head snapped around, his eyes locking on mine.
For a split second, I saw panic flicker across his face, before his eyes went cold. Without another glance in my direction, he turned away and resumed his conversation with the man sitting to his left, a man I didn’t recognize.
His acting was… believable.
No nod. No smile. No flicker of recognition. He acted as if I were just another face in the crowd.
As if we hadn’t been fucking each other senseless for the past few days. As if I didn't just have his dick in my mouth less than half an hour ago.
As if he didn't just tell me he loved me.
His ability to shut me out so completely, to act as though I meant nothing, felt like a knife to my heart. It was too believable.
Greg gestured toward the man seated next to Brax with a sweep of his hand.
"Henderson, this is Dylan," he introduced. "Dylan's the interior designer I was telling you about—for Studio Pase. She’s from Gellar and Summers."
Henderson looked up from his seat, offering me a warm smile as he extended his hand. "Hi, Dylan, pleasure to meet you."
“Nice to meet you," I replied, shaking his hand.
The conversation quickly veered into small talk, the kind of surface-level chatter that I fucking despise.
I felt out of place as I was the only standing.
“You’ve met everyone else, haven’t you?” Greg asked.
I glanced around the table to see that every pair of eyes was now on me, including Brax’s and Ally’s.
Brax’s gaze was cool and detached. Ally’s, however, was something else. She was staring at me with an intensity that made me self-conscious.
I shifted in my stance, acutely aware of the dress I was wearing.
“Yes, I think so,” I replied, the words automatic.
Greg’s voice sliced through the air, casual and nonchalantly as he gestured toward Ally. "Ah, you wouldn’t have met the lovely Ally yet," he said, as if introducing any other acquaintance at a gala. "Brax’s fiancée."
Time itself seemed to freeze.
The earth had stopped spinning.
The ground slipped away from under me.
Frozen on the spot, my vision warped and my hearing went fuzzy, like a white noise machine had been switched on.
I was suspended in a single, breathless moment.
Fiancée?!
My eyes found Brax.
His expression was one of utter shock, as though he'd been the one slapped across the face. His lips parted, but no words came out. His gaze flickered between me and Ally, like he was trying to decide which one of us he should focus on.
That cannot be real.
Brax would’ve told me. He wouldn’t have kept something as huge from me, not after everything we’d shared, everything we'd been through.
He wouldn’t have lied to me.
Would he?
Ally’s voice cut through the silence.
"Hi," she said with a sweetness that made me want to scream. She extended her hand to me, as if we were just two strangers meeting for the first time. “What was your name again, sorry?”
My eyes fell to her left hand.
And sure enough, there was a diamond ring on her finger, glittering under the ballroom lights. It was unmistakable.
It was an engagement ring.
She was his fiancée.
The prick was fucking engaged.