THEO
The chaos around me blurs into nothing as her words repeat over and over in my head.
“We’re done.”
No.
We’re not fucking done.
She just broke Sloane’s fucking nose because she dared get close to me.
That is not the action of a woman who thinks we’re fucking done.
You’re my fucking wife, Emmie Cirillo, and I’m going to fucking prove to you that it’s a title you fucking deserve, that fucking belongs to you.
“Theo,” a whiny, pained voice cries from behind me.
My blood turns to ice and my skin prickles in a way that makes me want to claw it from my body, knowing that she ever touched me.
“No,” I boom, turning around to face Sloane. “You fucking deserved that. Did you really think we’d let you get away with the bullshit you pulled at your party?” I scoff.
“Please, Theo. It was just a joke.”
“A fucking joke?” I bellow. “You drugged her. She could have died, all because of your uncontrollable jealousy.” Closing the space between us, I get right in her face—not that I can see it for her bloody hands that are hiding the state of her nose.
“She doesn’t belong here,” she wails.
“No,” I spit. “Emmie is exactly where she belongs. The person who shouldn’t be here right now is you,” I inform her.
“She’s nothing. Her daddy is a biker, for fuck’s sake.”
“Careful, Sloane. You have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“Like hell I don’t.” She finally lowers her hands and I can’t help but smirk at the state of her face. “She’s nothing more than council estate trash.”
I step forward, ready to wring her fucking neck, but hands wrap around my upper arms, stopping me.
“The only trash around here is you, Sloane. Has your daddy told you about his bankruptcy yet?”
Her eyes widen in horror.
“You’re lying,” she hisses.
“Am I? You see, I was going to deliver my own form of revenge for what you did to Emmie. But the second I heard that your daddy was going under, I figured you had enough shit coming your way.”
“You’re lying,” she repeats, her voice getting higher as she starts to panic.
“I’ll make sure Emmie has a word with her friends over at Lovell Academy. I’m sure they’ll be nothing but welcoming when your daddy can no longer afford to send you here.”
“That’s enough, Theo,” Mrs. Rollinson snaps, rushing to Sloane’s side.
The bell rings and everyone hesitates to move, desperate to see if any more drama is going to unfold.
“Everyone get to class,” Mr. Ford booms, coming in to help.
Eventually, everyone heads toward their tutor rooms to start their morning.
“Is that true?” Seb asks, stepping up beside me once we’re all out in the corridor.