Chapter 68
“Really?” Christian’s voice was a low, smooth drawl, dripping with lethal confidence. “I’d love to see you try. Because Fleur is going to choose me over everything, and you don’t stand a fraction of a chance p>
He had seen the truth lingering in the depths of her eyes earlier, and a man like Christian didn’t misread a woman. If anything in this world was worth fighting a war for, it was her. He didn’t even need to waste a bullet on this insignificant boy to win her back.
She was his. She had always been his.
Raphael’s expression darkened, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “You don’t know it yet, but you’re going to disappear before anyone even notices. And no one will ever find you again p>
Christian merely smirked, utterly unfazed by the movie star’s hollow threats. “And you, kiddo, won’t be alive to see whether it happens or not if I have my way p>
“Kiddo?!” Raphael scowled, his jaw clenching so hard the bone structure looked sharp enough to cut. His eyes shot daggers at the tycoon. “Let me show you who the real man is p>
“Are you certain you want to challenge me?” Christian’s voice turned dangerously cold, a thick eyebrow arching in a silent, predatory warning.
They stood chest-to-chest, radiating a violent hostility that charged the very air around them. Neither man was capable of backing down; their egos and their desperate, possessive love for the same woman made a collision inevitable.
Christian’s fingers twitched, his mind already drifting to call out his wolf. But because he had promised himself not to do anything rash in Fleur’s surroundings, he had no other choice but to stop. Otherwise, he would have gladly ended this arrogant actor right here on the mat.
Across from him, Raphael balled his hands into tight fists, shifting his weight. He was visualizing the precise combinations he’d mastered in his martial arts training, recalling his days as a national-level kickboxing champion. He knew exactly how to put a man down with a single, clinical strike.
The standoff threatened to turn bloody right there on the welcome mat—until the heavy oak door suddenly yanked open again.
Fleur stood on the threshold, practically vibrating with a terrifying, righteous fury. Before either man could speak, a bundle of Christian’s clothes and personal belongings came flying out, scattering across the porch floor.
“Take your garbage and get the hell away from my door, both of you!” she commanded, her voice seething with an anger that made them both freeze. “When I open this door again, if I see either of your faces, I promise you will regret it p>
The two men swallowed hard, blinking in stunned silence at the absolute force of nature before them. Before they could utter a word of defense, the door slammed shut with a deafening crack that made them both flinch.
Christian stood in the sudden quiet, slowly stooping down to gather his scattered clothes. Beside him, Raphael pulled out his phone, his fingers furiously stabbing at the screen to summon his own security. Exchanging one final, venomous glare, they turned their backs on each other and strode toward opposite ends of the hallway.
Despite the humiliating eviction, a grim sense of satisfaction settled in Christian’s chest. Fleur hadn’t let Raphael stay either. The relief was intoxicating—it proved she didn’t harbor hidden feelings for the actor, and she certainly wasn’t choosing him.
Every instinct told Christian to stay and fight for her, but he knew pushing her further right now would only backfire. He needed to let her cool down. More importantly, he needed time to construct a flawless strategy to win her back permanently.
The two rivals took separate elevators down to the garage. When Christian stepped out into the humid afternoon air of the ground floor, his trusted driver and bodyguard, John, was already waiting by the idling vehicle. Noting the dark scowl on his boss’s face, John quickly moved to open the rear door without a word.
Christian slid into the leather interior, and the door clicked shut, cutting off the noise of the city. John climbed into the driver’s seat and glanced at the rearview mirror.
“Where to, Alpha p>
“Home,” Christian replied curtly.
As the sleek, black sedan pulled away from Fleur’s building, Christian leaned his head back against the headrest, his mind already spinning with calculations.
Giving up on her was not an option.
He stared blankly out the tinted window, the bustling cityscape and rushing traffic blurring into a meaningless haze of light and shadow. He was entirely consumed by the memory of her furious, beautiful face.
When the car finally pulled up the grand, sweeping driveway of his estate, the towering stone columns cast long, oppressive shadows across the pavement under the bright afternoon sun.
John killed the engine, swiftly stepped out, and opened the passenger door. The sudden rush of warm air broke Christian from his trance.
He stepped out of the vehicle and took a deep breath. The familiar, meticulous scent of the manicured gardens mingled with the distant tang of the city. Before him stood the imposing, multi-million-dollar facade of his mansion—a stark, hollow contrast to the chaotic warmth of the apartment he had just left.
Home, Christian thought, a bitter sigh escaping his lips. But it didn’t feel like home anymore.
He had spent barely any time at Fleur’s place, yet it had felt infinitely more alive, brimming with a peace and vibrant joy he hadn’t experienced since the days Odette lived under his roof. He looked up at the grand stone structure with a sudden, deep-seated distaste before walking through the heavy front doors.
He marched straight upstairs to his private quarters, John silently trailing behind him with the rescued bundle of clothes.
“Alpha, should I put these away for you?” John asked hesitantly, breaking the silence.
Christian didn’t turn around; he merely gave a brief, tight nod of confirmation. John carefully placed the items on the reclined chair near the window and retreated, closing the door softly behind him.
Alone at last, Christian walked over to the glass, staring out over the sprawling acres of his estate, his thoughts heavy.
Suddenly, the silence was shattered. The bedroom door was violently yanked open, crashing against the wall. Syrus stood in the doorway, his face twisted in pure frustration.
“Where the fuck were you last night?” Syrus demanded, stepping into the room.