Chapter 123
Chapter 123:
Declan looked at Cole’s violently shaking hands. A dark, vicious bloom of satisfaction opened in his chest. He had the power to obliterate Cole’s composure entirely right now. He leaned back against the sofa, crossed his legs, and said nothing about the kidnapping or the rescue.
He looked Cole dead in the eye and smiled — slow, mocking, and lethal.
“Last night,” Declan said, letting each word land with deliberate ambiguity, “June was in my passenger seat. As for how her jewelry ended up wedged in my car — I suggest you use your imagination, Cole p>
The words detonated like a bomb.
The last thin thread of Cole’s rationality snapped.
He lunged across the table, seized Declan’s lapels with both hands, and hauled him upright from the sofa. “Did you touch her?!” The sheer volume of his voice made the nearby patrons flinch. Four bouncers immediately broke into a run toward the booth.
Declan did not move. He looked down at Cole’s white-knuckled grip with complete calm.
A𝖽𝗱𝗂𝖼𝗍𝘪𝘃𝘦 𝘀t𝗈𝗿i𝖾s 𝘰𝗻 𝘨𝘢lոo𝘷е𝗅𝘀.com
Then he let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “What right do you have to be angry?” he said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Aren’t you busy playing house with your pure, innocent Alycia p>
He twisted his torso sharply and, with a controlled surge of strength, broke Cole’s grip and ripped his hands free. He smoothed his lapels with one hand and looked down at Cole with absolute, crushing composure.
“You lost her, Cole,” Declan said flatly. “Stop acting like a man who can’t live with the consequences of his own stupidity p>
Cole stood frozen, chest heaving. His right fist was clenched so tightly around the bracelet that the sharp edges of the gold clovers were cutting into his palm, drawing blood he could not feel.
Declan picked up his keys from the table, cast a look of pure disgust at the pale, speechless Julian, and walked out of the club without a backward glance.
Cole sank back onto the sofa.
His mind was on fire. Vivid, unbearable images of June and Declan together in the dark cabin of that car flashed behind his eyes in a relentless loop. The jealousy was a physical acid burning clean through the lining of his stomach.
A raw, animal sound tore out of him.
He swung his arm and swept the table. The heavy crystal vodka bottle exploded against the floor, glass and alcohol erupting in every direction.
The storm of Cole’s jealousy had reached its absolute peak.
The next afternoon.
Bright autumn sunlight poured through the massive glass windows of the Montblanc boutique on Fifth Avenue. The store smelled of rich leather and expensive ink.
June stood at the glass display counter in a sharp camel trench coat, her posture flawless. She was here to buy a weapon — a physical object that would permanently convert the emotional debt she owed Declan Hayes into something cold, transactional, and final.
The sales associate, wearing white cotton gloves, lifted a heavy velvet-lined box from the display case and set it on the counter. Inside rested a limited-edition antique platinum fountain pen, its barrel engraved with intricate, immaculate detailing.
June examined it. Cold, expensive, and completely impersonal. Perfect.