Chapter Four
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Ily
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HOW COULD HE SAY THAT about Krish? That I slept with my adoptive brother?
He knew why I was close to him. Why I doted on him. Without Krish, I wouldn’t have a family. Out of everyone in this world, Krish was the only one who’d earned my entire heart. Sure, my adoptive mother and father had all of it too, but Krish...he had all of it and far, far more.
“You’re sick for ever suggesting I would sleep with the one person I adore more than anything,” I hissed.
Sam rubbed his smarting cheek from where I’d slapped him.
His voice was ugly as he sneered, “Adore more than anything, huh? Adore more than me, your boyfriend? The man you gave four years of your life to?” He laughed nastily.
“Four years you’ve led me on, making me believe you’ll change.
I did my best to bide my time for you to outgrow your stupid rocks and silly dreams, but you’ve just shown me what a lost cause you truly are.
You’re an outsider in the very family you say you adore so much.
My family could’ve offered you more than they ever could because they’re better in every way.
” He bared his teeth. “You’ll regret this, Il.
I bet you’re already regretting it. You just kissed the future we could’ve had together goodbye. ”
Wow.
Steam came out of my ears. “You’re not better than me, Samuel Laris. You’re an absolute twat. And don’t you dare talk about my family that way!”
“What way? With truth?”
“They might not be stuck-up like your family, and they might have modest means because Father sends all his wealth back to India, but they’re good people.
Kind and generous people. They’re so much better than you’re turning out to be.
” I crossed my arms, hugging myself. The liquor I’d thrown back burned in my belly, making me nauseous.
“I don’t know what I ever saw in you. You’re a nasty, spoiled brat who—”
“I’m nasty?!” He threw his hands up. “You’re the bitch here, not me. You’re the one who broke up with me on my motherfucking birthday!”
Ordinarily, I would take the high road and leave.
Tonight, I wanted to get dirty. “I gave you a blowjob before I did. Doesn’t that make you happy?”
He loomed over me so fast, so threateningly, a tiny tendril of fear unravelled. “You call that a blowjob? A half-hearted lick and—”
“You came. Don’t pretend it didn’t feel good—”
“I’m horny. You’ve been denying me for weeks. Of course I came. But don’t think it was because of your ‘skills’ because it most certainly wasn’t. You want the truth, Illness—”
“I told you not to call me that—”
“You haven’t been able to please me in bed for months. Sticking my cock in any part of you has become a chore. Even a blow-up doll would be able to pleasure me better.”
“Good grief, Sam.” My cheeks blazed, and my heart—that was well and truly over him—panged with shame.
He watched me as if he wanted to wring my neck in front of hundreds of people—as if he genuinely hated me.
“Look.” I sighed, doing my best to cling to my courage instead of giving in to the prickles of worry. “I’m sorry, okay? It was my fault this went so sour. My fault—”
“Of course, it’s your bloody fault. I hope you end up realising just how much this is your fault.”
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you deserve a whole world of pain for what you’ve done to me. You’ve made me the laughingstock of this club, dragged me all the way to France to dump me, and most likely expect me to walk you back to the hotel, watch you pack your bags, and then escort you back home.”
“I don’t expect any—”
“Well, I’m not doing it, got it?” His voice raised with rage. “I’m done. You’re not welcome back at the hotel. Go to the train station and sleep there for all I care. Get back to England on your own. I never want to see you again.”
“We share a flat back in Brixton, you idiot. I have to get my things.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll toss your rock collection into the garden. The snails can have ’em. And your clothes...well, I’m sure your perfect family can buy you—”
“Don’t be so ridiculous, Sam. I want my stuff. I can’t afford to replace everything.”
“Should’ve thought about that before you—”
Something white flew between us and slammed heavily against the bar, knocking over the rest of the forgotten shots, splashing liquor over my slinky top.
I cringed away, blinking to the side to see who dared throw—
I froze.
Him.
The demigod from before.
The man who sent lightning bolts of warning through my blood. I didn’t know if I should scream for help or beg for mercy.
His skin was darker up close—or was that because the lights had been turned down? Either way, his harsh bone structure and stunning eyes spoke of a blended heritage. Like me. His broody grey gaze locked piercingly on mine.
The club vanished. The deafening music paused.
Who the hell was this man, and why was he interrupting one of the worst nights of my life?
“Who the fuck are you?” Sam demanded, sizing up the guy. Sam’s height had always been a turn-on. I liked that I could wear the highest heels and never fear I’d tower over him, but this guy?
He put Sam to shame—in height, muscles, and stature.
“That’s not important,” the man growled, still looking at me.
My knees resembled churned butter again.
It wasn’t fair that a man who looked like that could also sound as deep as ominous thunder.
I froze as the man’s gaze dropped to my mouth.
His smoky stare darkened before he wrenched his shoulders back, balled his hands, and shifted his unnerving focus to Sam.
For a moment, I didn’t know if he meant to clock my ex with a fist or pretzel a barstool over his head. Violence poured off him, prickling my skin with ice.
Sighing dramatically, Sam shifted and snatched up the white envelope currently soaking up cheap booze on the bar. “What’s this?” Wiping away most of the liquor, he tried to give it back. “Take it and go, asshole. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?”
The man merely crossed his arms, his chest as hard and as impenetrable as a brick wall. “Oh, I heard. Believe me. I heard everything.”
My heart cowered. “Everything?” Chagrin coated me. I suddenly, stupidly cared that this devastatingly handsome stranger had heard my ex compare my sexual prowess to that of a blow-up doll.
Great.
Wonderful.
My pride was damaged enough without a demigod looking at me as if I was the worst person alive in bed.
I crossed my arms, mimicking the man, doing my best to gather my flagging bravery. “If you heard everything, then you know we don’t want company. Just go and—”
“Open it. The envelope.” Not paying any attention to me, the man glowered at Sam. “Now.”
Sam’s forehead furrowed with annoyance, and for a second, I feared he’d throw the envelope at the arrogant guy’s head, but then he squeezed it, hefted it, and with curiosity flickering in his stare, carefully unstuck the seal and peered inside.
His mouth fell open. “Oh shit, it’s money.”
“Lots of money,” the man muttered, his biceps flexing beneath his dark suit, seeming to strain at the seams even in the low light of the club. “Ten thousand euros, to be exact.”
Sam sucked in a breath. “And you’re casually throwing ten G around, why?”
“To get your attention.”
Sam cracked a smile. “Well, you certainly got it.” He slapped the soggy envelope against his other palm.
His smile fell. “Wait...why? You’re not some creep trying to proposition me, are you?
I know we’re in France, and this is the city of love and all, and I just had a fairly public breakup, but I’m not gonna suck your dick for ten grand, man. ”
I stiffened, waiting for the stunning stranger to react.
He didn’t.
He stayed tall and stoic, his glower never leaving Sam’s face.
Sam shifted uncomfortably, placing the money back on the bar. His gaze met mine, and I already knew what his next move would be. It was what he’d always done: bolt.
Before he could run from a situation he couldn’t control, I smiled brightly.
“Oh, come on, Sam. You’re single now. And didn’t you just finish telling me how bad I am at pleasuring you?
Don’t you want someone who could show you a night of raw, primordial passion?
” I pointed at the demigod. “I’m sure he could show you a few tricks.
After all, it’s not just you who was disappointed in all our years together—”
“Why, you little bitch!” Sam launched himself at me. His fingers outstretched, his face contorted with hate.
I ducked but wasn’t fast enough. His hand latched around my throat and—
The stranger had Sam pinned in a chokehold a blink later.
“I suggest you let her go.” Holding my ex tightly against him, all while Sam spat curses and fought to get free, the man hissed, “Do not make a fucking scene.”
“Let me go, you bastard!”
“I’ll let you go the moment you agree to stand there, nicely, and stop drawing attention to us.” The guy curled his hand around Sam’s neck, squeezing until Sam’s fingers dropped away from mine. “Ne m’oblige pas à te faire du mal.”
“I don’t speak French, you motherfucker,” Sam snarled.
“I said...don’t make me hurt you. It’s not you I’m after.”
“Wait...what?” I swallowed hard, rubbing my throat from Sam’s grab as the man’s grey stare locked on mine. Every tingle, every awareness turned into little bolts of panic. “What do you mean?”
Shoving Sam away from him, the guy moved far too quick for me to run in my second-hand silver ankle boots.
“It’s you I’m after,” the man murmured, decadently, dangerously.
“Me?” I squeaked.
His fingers clamped on my shoulder, pinning me in place. Fire scorched through my veins from his pinching fingertips.
“Yes, you.”
My heart winged with terror.
We both faced Sam, me silently begging him to order the guy to let me go, all while the man smirked, knowing he’d already won.
“Samuel...” I said quietly, calmly. “I think it’s time for both of us to go, don’t you? This night hasn’t exactly turned out the way we thought it would, but I’m sure we can agree that—”