Chapter 110
The voice on the other end of the line belonged to Vance McPherson–Declan’s closest friend.
He said bluntly, “Prissie, I don’t know what kind of tricks you pulled to keep Reigne from returning to Connecticut with Declan, but ever since, he’s been drowning himself in alcohol, completely miserable!”
With a tone thick with condescension, he continued, “Look, for the sake of all the years we’ve known each other, here’s some friendly advice–while Declan still has a shred of childhood affection for you, don’t be stupid enough to stand in the way of him and Reigne. If you keep pushing your luck, the one who’ll end up getting discarded won’t be her. It’ll be you.“”
I paused in silence for a moment, and then I asked calmly, “Is Declan there with you? Put me on speaker. I want to talk to him.”
Vance’s POV
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The second I heard that tone, I figured she was finally about to fold and apologize.<
Smirking, I walked into the private lounge, phone in hand, and shoved it in front of Declan. He looked like hell. Hair a mess, shirt half–untucked, slumped on the couch like he was somewhere between half–drunk and barely conscious.
I shot a glance around and signaled everyone to shut up.
Before Declan could even focus on the screen, Prissie’s cold voice cut through.
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don’t know why you haven’t told your useless, gossiping friends the good news about my marriage, Declan. But clearly don’t give a damn, fine. I’ll say it myself.“}
Prissie’s POV
since you
My tone sharpened as I addressed them directly. “Vance, all of you better listen up and get this straight. I am already legally married to Dallas, the eldest son of the Mortimers.“}
I let that sink in for a beat before continuing, “So no matter how deeply Declan and Reigne are in love, how dramatic or inseparable they are, it’s their business—not mine. From this day forward, if any of you dare bring their pathetic drama into my life again, I won’t bother pretending to be polite again with you spoiled, good–for–nothing brats!”
The moment I finished speaking, silence fell over the entire lounge like a guillotine blade. Not a single breath was heard. The next day, Declan started following me.\
No matter where I went–work, social events, even casual meetups with friends–his flashy sports car would appear nearby, parked like a shadow that refused to leave.
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At first, I still had the patience to send someone to knock on his window and silently gesture for him to leave.” But after it happened again and again, I started pretending he didn’t exist. I threw myself fully into my life, living as though he were invisible.
It was like that until my birthday.”
That day, Declan, who had been strangely quiet and restrained for weeks, suddenly showed up uninvited at the Mediterranean restaurant Dallas had rented out for my celebration.
Thick–skinned as ever, he sat himself at the table right beside ours.}
His fists clenched under the table as he watched Dallas and me clink glasses of champagne, our smiles tender and radiant.” When I leaned in to feed Dallas a piece of crab, Declan’s grip on his steak knife slipped–he sliced into his own finger, carving out a strip of flesh.
Back when we were kids, even the tiniest cut on him would send me into a frenzy. I’d tear up and whisper silly little healing spells, trying to soothe his pain.
Maybe that memory gave him hope. With blood still trickling down his hand, he stepped toward me, eyes full of desperate expectation.#
Prissiehe rasped, voice hoarse. “Look–I’m bleeding.”
“And?” I replied flatly, meeting his gaze with utter indifference.}
The moment our eyes locked, his voice caught in his throat. For several seconds, he said nothing. Then, slowly, his eyes began to redden.
“I’m not pretending to be sick, Prissie,” he said hoarsely. “I’m really hurt.“B
At that, Dallas calmly set down his utensils–he had just finished cutting my steak. With a cold, mocking smile, he looked at his younger brother and said, “If you’re injured, go take your ass to the hospital. My wife isn’t a doctor. And even if she were, she wouldn’t be obligated to treat a piece of shit like you.”
“You call me a piece of shit, but what the hell are you, Dallas?” Declan retorted “You’re the bastard who went after your own brother’s fiancée! You don’t even deserve to be alive, you disgusting freak!“U
8:38 PM
He lunged forward, grabbing Dallas by the collar, ready to throw a punch.
But before the blow could land, a blood–curdling, gut–wrenching scream rang out from the hallway beyond the restaurant.”
A moment later, a middle–aged man covered in injuries, drenched in water and ice, barely clinging to life was dragged into the room by Dallas’s men and dragged in front of me.”
The moment he saw me, he burst into tears and collapsed at my feet, sobbing uncontrollably.”
