It was her birthday, but I got the best gift — being her first.
It wasn’t the fucker Aiden or any other loser; it was me. She never broke her promise to me.
My head has been filled with images of her porcelain skin, of her bold flowery scent, of the way she moaned my name.
Fuck, how she moaned my name.
That’s the only way I want her to say my name from now on.
I know it won’t be easy. Silver didn’t just pull away from me as soon as I was out of her, she ran. Not to mention, she’s been acting cold and aloof since the morning.
Aiden is my fiancé.
Fuck that.
If she thinks I’ll let her hang on to his arm after I claimed her, then she must not know me at all.
I only allowed the fun because I knew there would be a day where she’d be officially mine. After Mum and Sebastian’s marriage, that option is off the table, but that doesn’t mean I can’t work around it.
The first step is done, but there’s more to come.
As soon as the assistant manager calls a break to go through the formation, I stalk towards the bench Aiden is occupying, snatch a bottle of water and settle by his side.
He’s wiping his face with a towel, his gaze focused on Elsa as she runs. I see it then — pride. He’s not just infatuated with her, he’s also proud of her. Interesting.
“She’s good,” I say nonchalantly.
His attention slowly slides to me. He must’ve noticed me sitting beside him, because even though he acts like he doesn’t care, he’s also hyperaware of his surroundings. However, he didn’t realise I was observing his observation session.
“Eyes. Off,” he orders.
There. The reaction I needed. “Relax. I was only saying she’s good.”
“Don’t say she’s good, don’t even watch her being good, speak to her, or about her. Deal? Deal.”
“I would’ve probably done that if I hadn’t realised you’re a fucking liar.”
“Me? What have I lied to you about?”
“Hey, how do I remove virginal blood from my dick? Should I just wash it?” I recite his text from back then and the words that fucking broke me. “I already washed the blood off my dick. I wouldn’t have if I’d known you have a virginal blood kink.”
He raises a brow. “Are you trying to prove you have a good memory? Am I supposed to clap or some shit?”
“I’m repeating your lies, King. You really thought I wouldn’t find out?”
“It took you three years.” He grins. “Three years of thinking I was her first. Three years of dying on the inside imagining I was fucking her whenever we were alone. Three years of constant doubts. Let’s not mention how you punched me that night or your petty moves whenever you could dig me a hole. Do you know what I call that? A win.”
It takes all my self-restraint not to raise my fist and punch him again, and this time, I’d ruin those features so no one would look in his direction. I’d make him an ugly monster. However, I know that will only give him the reaction he wants, so I drink a sip of water to soothe my throat.
“The fun is over. End it,” I say with a calm I don’t feel.
That’s the thing about plotting chaos. You feel it, but you don’t show it — it’s the most lethal type to ever exist.
“Why would I?” Aiden flings the towel over his shoulder.
“Because she’s mine now.” My throat closes around the word. Mine. How long have I waited to say that out loud?
Years. Fucking years.