"Do you want to get back at her?"
The words tumbled out of Riley’s mouth before she could stop them. Even
she
was surprised by the sharpness in her tone, the unspoken desperation beneath it.
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head. "Of course not."
"Then why are you looking at her like you
do
?" Riley snapped, eyes narrowing.
Ethan exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. "Will you
stop it
, Riley?" His voice dropped, low and cutting. "This is
not
the time for your jealousy."
And then he walked away.
Riley stood there, frozen, her breath catching in her throat.
Ethan had
never
spoken to her like that before. Not once. The coldness in his voice, the irritation behind his words—it was a slap to the face.
Her nails dug into her palm as she watched him disappear into the crowd.
Was it
because
of Celeste? He only acted like that when the woman came.
Was she
losing
him too?
The thought sent a chill down her spine.
Ethan downed his drink, his mind clouded with frustration.
Riley had been prying too much lately.
She questioned him constantly—who he was with, who he talked to, and
God forbid
there was a woman in his business dealings, because she would
always
confront him about it.
"Is she one of your girlfriends?"
"How long have you been seeing her?"
"Are you serious about her?"
At first, he didn’t mind. A little jealousy could be flattering. But lately, it felt like she was
monitoring
him, as if she had some claim over his life that she had never earned.
And the worst part?
It made him think of
Celeste
.
Celeste had
never
pried into his personal affairs. She had known what she was to him—his
convenience
, his escape. She never demanded exclusivity, never made a scene about other women. As long as he gave her
some
attention, she stayed in her place.
The only time she ever snapped was when he forgot their dates, when he failed to keep his promises. That was the
only
thing she asked of him—to honor the moments they had together.
But she had
never
questioned his choices.
She had never acted like she
owned
him.
And now . . . now she was sitting at her table, the same woman yet someone entirely new.
She looked untouchable.
Gone was the girl who once clung to him, desperate for the affection he carelessly threw her way. In her place was a woman who exuded effortless confidence, who commanded attention without asking for it.
And Ethan hated how many men were
looking
at her. Wanting her.
Because for the first time, he realized—he had
let go
of something important. Something that, maybe, he would never get back.
Before he even processed his own actions, his feet moved on their own. One moment, he was standing with a drink in hand. The next, he was standing before
her
.
And Celeste . . .
She looked up at him with those sharp, knowing eyes, not a hint of surprise in them.
"Mr. Carter," she greeted smoothly, a small, polite smile gracing her lips. "Do you need something?"
And that was when Ethan realized—he had been
mesmerized
by her.
And maybe, just maybe . . .
She
knew it.
Ethan cleared his throat, forcing nonchalance into his voice. "Nothing much. Just wondering why you’re alone. Where’s that arrogant prick, Alexander? Did he finally get rid of you after you ran him dry?"
Celeste let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Actually, no. He’ll be here soon," she said smoothly, swirling the champagne in her glass. "And for your information, Mr. Carter, Alexander has more than enough wealth. So you don’t need to worry about us."
Ethan scoffed. "Wealth?" He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Do you really believe that? You have no idea where he gets his money, do you?"
Celeste resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Oh, please, Mr. Carter. Let’s not pretend that everyone in this world hasn’t dabbled in
certain
dealings to build their fortune—including you." She smirked, tilting her head. "So what gives you the right to call anyone out?"
Ethan’s jaw clenched, his irritation flaring. "You’re
defending
him now? How much is Alexander paying you? Did he gave you a condo and a car or something?"
"That’s right," came a deep, unmistakable voice from behind them.
The entire room fell silent.
All heads turned toward the entrance, and an audible gasp rippled through the guests as
Alexander Vale
made his entrance.
He was a vision of power and menace, dressed in an all-white suit that only served to amplify his cold, lethal presence. His platinum-white hair gleamed under the golden chandeliers, his sharp, golden eyes locking onto Ethan with quiet amusement. He grinned, the kind of smirk that sent shivers down spines—the smirk of a man who knew he was untouchable.
Of course, he had heard everything.
And his chest warmed at the way Celeste had fiercely defended him. But there was also possessiveness and jealousy in his heart at the sight of Ethan so near her.
He strode forward leisurely, hands in his pockets, exuding effortless dominance as he stopped beside Celeste. Then, his gaze settled on Ethan, amusement flickering in his eyes.
"And I think it’s
none
of your business how I spend my money on my woman, Mr. Carter," Alexander said smoothly, his voice velvety yet carrying an undeniable edge.
Ethan didn’t back down. Their eyes locked in a silent war, tension thick between them.
"You’re not afraid she’ll drain you?" Ethan sneered. "If I were you, I’d be careful. You might not realize when she’s already sucked you dry."
Alexander let out a low, amused chuckle. "
Draining
me dry? Don’t lump me in with you." He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "With a woman like Celeste? Every penny I spend on her is
worth it.
" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "And you don’t need to concern yourself with my money, Carter. You and I both know—I will
never
run out of it."