Chapter 32
Chapter 32:
“I heard something,” Aspen said, settling on the edge of his desk. She traced the line of his jaw with a manicured finger.
“What?” Kieran swatted her hand away.
“About Jocelyn. And the marriage p>
Kieran’s head snapped up. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles bruising the skin beneath them. “What about it p>
“She actually did it,” Aspen lied, her voice perfectly steady. “She married him. Legally p>
“Who?” Kieran demanded.
“Babe Vincent,” Aspen whispered, delivering the fabrication with flawless conviction. “She married him for the money and the title. I saw the registry update. It’s official p>
Kieran went still. The pen in his hand snapped with a loud crack, ink bleeding onto his fingers. His mind flashed back to the club — the tall, powerful man who had laid him out. But his narcissistic rage couldn’t accept that Jocelyn had chosen someone competent. It was easier to believe the man was a hired bodyguard, a piece of muscle bought by the pathetic, drug-addled Vincent family. Jocelyn wouldn’t choose power; she would be a victim of it. That was the only story his ego could stomach.
“She married that junkie?” Kieran’s voice dropped to a low growl.
𝖱𝖾ad 𝗐i𝗍hо𝗎𝘵 iոte𝗿𝘳𝘶p𝘵io𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗻
“And that’s not all,” Aspen continued, twisting the knife. “Rumor is she did it for the money. Obviously. But people are saying she’s into it. The lifestyle. The parties. The degradation p>
“Shut up,” Kieran hissed.
“I’m just telling you what I heard!” Aspen feigned innocence. “She was seen at that underground club in Chelsea. With him. Looking willing p>
Kieran stood so abruptly his chair toppled backward.
“She wouldn’t,” he said, pacing the room. “She’s pure. She’s boring p>
“She was,” Aspen said. “But desperation changes people. She sold herself, Kieran. To the lowest bidder. She’s Mrs. Vincent now. A trophy for a predator p>
Kieran roared. He swept his arm across the desk, sending the computer monitor, files, and bento box crashing to the floor.
“She belongs to me!” he screamed. “She doesn’t get to be ruined by anyone but me p>
Aspen flinched and took a step back. She had wanted him angry, but this — this was unhinged.
“Kieran, calm down p>
“Where is he?” Kieran grabbed his coat. “Where is Vincent p>
“I — I think he’s at The Gilded Lily. Or that private club on 5th,” Aspen stammered.
“I’m going to get her back,” Kieran said, his eyes wild. “And I’m going to kill him p>
He stormed out of the office.
Aspen stood amid the wreckage, a small, terrified smile playing on her lips. She pulled out a compact mirror and checked her lipstick.
“Oops,” she whispered.
The engine of the McLaren roared as Kieran wove through traffic on 5th Avenue, cutting off taxis, ignoring horns.
He grabbed his phone and hit speed dial. Jocelyn.
Beep. Beep. “The number you have dialed is not accepting calls p>
Blocked. Again.
He threw the phone into the passenger seat. It bounced off the leather and fell to the floor mat.