Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Kayden
The man burst from the shadows, beating me by a second.
Just one second.
But it was enough to freeze me in place.
His fist slammed into the bastard's face. The crack of bone echoed through the night, sharp and clean. The guy screamed, hands flying to his nose as blood spurted between his fingers.
"Get lost." The man's voice was lazy, laced with casual menace.
The other drunks hesitated, alcohol dulling their reflexes. They exchanged glances, actually considering pushing back, cursing as they lunged forward.
The man just laughed—cold and contemptuous.
Sidestep. Dodged the first punch. Elbow strike—the second guy dropped, clutching his temple. The third charged in and caught a knee to the gut, crumpling to his knees, dry heaving.
The whole thing flowed like water, almost showing off, like he couldn't care less about any of them.
The bastards finally got scared, stumbling away clutching their wounds. One of them was still muttering "fucking bitch" and "we'll get you" under his breath.
I stood in the shadows, fingers curling tighter.
Remember their faces.
Every single one.
Tomorrow, Evan would handle it.
Anyone who dared curse at her...
My wolf bared its fangs deep inside.
The man shook out his hand and turned around. I finally saw his face.
Lucas.
Of course it was him.
"You okay?" Lucas asked Layla, the concern in his voice tightening something in my chest.
Layla leaned against the wall, pale as death. Her body trembled slightly, breathing sharp and broken, like a small animal just escaped from a hunter's trap.
But when she saw Lucas, some of that terror faded.
"Thank... thank you." Her voice shook, one hand braced against the wall, the other...
The other resting on Lucas's outstretched arm.
That gesture stabbed through my eyes.
She was holding onto him.
Trusting. Natural. Like he was her safe harbor.
Not me.
Jealousy spread through my veins like poison—slow, corrosive pain, starting from the heart and seeping into every limb, making each breath taste bitter.
My wolf growled deep in my soul.
That was our place.
She should be holding onto us.
She should be trembling in our arms.
She should...
"Don't mention it," Lucas said gently, his hand covering Layla's, giving it a light pat. Too familiar. So familiar I wanted to charge forward and snap his hand off. "Ella, I saw the news. Those bastards..."
He kept talking.
But I couldn't take it anymore.
I strode out of the shadows, into their little bubble of oblivious harmony.
Both of them looked at me.
Lucas's expression shifted from concern to surprise, then his eyebrow quirked up, mouth curving into an amused smile.
And Layla...
The instant Layla saw me, all color drained from her face. Her hand jerked back from Lucas's arm like she'd been shocked, body instinctively retreating until she hit the wall with a dull thud.
That look held fear, resistance, and something I didn't want to acknowledge—
Rejection. She was rejecting my approach, like I was some kind of monster.
That realization hurt more than any wound.
"Mr. Blackwood," Lucas spoke first, adjusting his shirt cuffs rumpled from the fight, tone casual like making small talk. "Didn't expect to see you in the neighborhood. Don't you have business to handle?"
He was playing dumb.
The bastard knew I was here for Layla.
"I need to discuss something important with Miss Ross." I stared at him, forcing my voice to stay calm. "Please give us some privacy."
"Oh?" Lucas raised an eyebrow. He stepped forward, casually positioning himself completely in front of Layla. "How about that, Mr. Blackwood—I also need to chat with Ella."
He paused, smile deepening.
"And you know how it is. First come, first served. I was here first."
He was provoking me.
This man who'd taken my three hundred million, who should be on a yacht counting cash, now stood before me, blocking me from my mate, challenging me.
My temples started throbbing. Fingers slowly clenched, knuckles cracking softly.
"First come, first served," I repeated the words, then smiled.
The smile must have looked ugly, because Lucas's expression froze for a moment.
I pulled my checkbook from my jacket pocket, movements deliberate, like performing some ritual. Took out my pen. Uncapped it.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
The sound of pen on paper cut through the frozen atmosphere.
I wrote a string of numbers.
Tore off the check.
Then threw it in Lucas's face.
"Is this enough?" My voice was soft, but each word carried absolute command. "Mr. Lucas, I seem to remember when I acquired your company, you weren't nearly this... chatty."
The check fluttered down, landing at his feet, those numbers glaring.
Five million.
Lucas glanced down, then looked back up at me. No anger on his face, no humiliation. Just that smile growing deeper.
"Mr. Blackwood, you're certainly generous," he said, not scurrying off like I expected. "But I'm afraid some things..."
He bent down, picked up the check, then slowly, deliberately, tore it to pieces right in front of me.
"Can't be bought."
Paper fragments drifted from his fingers like snow.
"Think you've got backbone?" I narrowed my eyes, barely registering him now, thick jealousy consuming me—I reached past him, trying to grab Layla directly.
"I—"
"Enough!" Layla's voice tore through the silent standoff.
She rushed out from behind Lucas, shoving away my reaching hand. The force caught me off guard, actually making me stumble back a step.
"Kayden Blackwood!" She stood before me, chest heaving violently, those eyes hidden behind blue contacts burning with fury I'd never seen before. "Enough!"
I opened my mouth.
But she didn't give me a chance to speak.
"I have nothing to discuss with you!" Her voice shook—not from fear but anger, from an explosion too long suppressed. "Everything I'm going through right now—isn't it all because of you?!"
"The news, the photos, the abuse..." She raised her hand, pointing at me, finger trembling in the air. "All of it because of you!"
Each word lashed across my face like a whip.
"Because you bought Lucas's company! Because you stalked me! Because you... You invaded my life!"
She took a deep breath, tears pooling in her eyes.
"And now you insult my friend? Throw money at him?"
Her voice sounded torn from her throat, carrying hysterical pain and sorrow.
"Kayden, am I just a toy you can buy with money?"
No.
That's not what I meant.
I just...
"Layla, listen to me..." I stepped forward, trying to explain, even forgetting to use her alias.
"Ella Ross!" She backed away, voice rising. "My name is Ella Ross!"
I stopped, watching her.
Tears finally broke free from Layla's eyes. The composure she'd fought to maintain was completely shattered in that moment.
"I'm sorry." The words scraped from my throat, rough as sandpaper.
"I'm sorry, I didn't... I wasn't trying to insult Lucas." My hands clenched into fists at my sides. "I just wanted to talk to you. Alone."
"I already had Evan handle the news." The words came rapid-fire, seizing every second before she could turn away again.
"He's contacting all the media, clarifying my relationship with Victoria, clearing up those photos.
I'll issue a statement too, tell everyone you're innocent.
I'll have the legal team track down whoever started the rumors. Ella, give me a chance to help you."
"That's enough." She cut me off, voice soft as a sigh.
But each word weighed more than a thousand pounds.
Layla looked up at me. The anger in those eyes had faded, the tears had stopped. All that remained was a bone-deep exhaustion that terrified me.
Like someone who'd struggled too long in a storm and finally had no strength left.
"I'm done," she said, each word clear and calm, calm as stating a fact.
"Done with my beautiful life being turned into chaos by you.
Done with your fake sincerity, each time with new excuses to manipulate me.
I don't know what I'm supposed to expect anymore.
I just want to live. A good, peaceful life. Is that so hard?"
My heart surged with unprecedented panic. Her eyes held no emotion toward me anymore—not even hatred, not even disgust... just still water, silent and dead.
"Ella—"
"Please disappear from my world."
What?
My heart skipped a beat.
No, no no...
I stared at her face intently, searching every micro-expression, trying to find any detail to prove—this was a lie.
Layla, you won't, you won't leave me, you're just upset—
"Completely. Forever."
The world silently shattered in that moment.
Like an ice sculpture melting in sunlight—at first, you don't notice the change, but when you finally realize it, it's already a puddle of water, impossible to piece back together.
I looked at her, this woman who'd loved me for so long, her resolve just as absolute as when she'd stood at the cliff's edge seven years ago.
I wanted to say something—that I'd truly changed, that I wouldn't marry Victoria, that I... loved her? But my throat felt blocked, all the words stuck there, unable to speak a single one.
None of it mattered anymore.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas leaning against the wall, cigarette dangling from his lips, watching this scene with a half-smile. That expression seemed to say, "See that, Blackwood? Some things can't be bought."
My fists clenched tight, nails shifting to wolf claws beyond my control, piercing my palms. Warm liquid dripped between my fingers, drops hitting the ground.
But still I stepped back.
"As you wish." I heard my own voice, hollow like it came from far away.
Layla froze, probably not expecting me to give in so easily. Her lips moved like she wanted to say something, but ultimately she just turned her head away.
I turned and left. My wolf didn't understand why I was giving our mate to another, still trying to struggle, trying to shake that bond fractured beyond repair.
Because she's in pain.
I told it.
Because we don't deserve her.