His After The Heartbreak (BL) Chapter 158: putting Him in his place

Chapter 158- Putting Him In His Place

Beatrice's POV

The second he ended the call, everything changed.

The room felt... wrong.

The silence was loud—like the air had been sucked out and replaced with awkward tension.

Like ti itself paused, holding its breath just like I was.

My heart was pounding so hard.

I didn't even realize I'd stopped breathing until I finally gasped quietly and let the air back in.

It didn't change the fact that sothing had almost happened.

If it wasn't for that damn phone call...

God knows what would've happened in this room. On this floor. Between and Declan.

I didn't want to think about it—but my mind was already doing it for .

Would he have stopped himself?

Would I have even had the strength to push him away?

My body... my damn body had betrayed . Reacting like I was so teenager being touched for the first ti.

I hated it. Hated the way my breath had hitched. The way my knees had weakened. The way I forgot myself for a second... like so woman starving for attention.

What was wrong with ?

I should've stood my ground. I should've stopped it before it got too far.

But I didn't.

And now I was standing here, chest rising and falling rapidly, cheeks on fire. I didn't need a mirror to know how red I was.

Not just flushed. No.

I was tomato red. Ripe. Embarrassed.

And he...

I turned slowly to look at Declan.

He was fuming.

Not even trying to hide it. His jaw was locked tight, his eyes blazing.

But what made it worse? He didn't even ask who was found. Didn't ask if it was Tyler. Didn't ask anything.

Then—out of nowhere—he snapped.

He turned, pulled his fist back, and punched the wall.

Bang.

The sound echoed through the room and made jump.

I stared, wide-eyed, as a fresh dent appeared on my wall.

Really?

"Seriously?" I muttered, still catching my breath. "Throwing tantrums like a kid now?"

I rolled my eyes, folding my arms.

"If you break my wall again, you're fixing it," I said flatly. "Actually—what am I even saying? You're rich. You can snap your fingers and get a whole new house, so break the whole damn wall if it makes you feel better."

He didn't even look at .

His face was red from anger, and his chest was rising like a beast trying to hold in a roar.

Then he picked up a shirt—my shirt—and tossed it to .

It hit like a slap.

That was when I realized I had been bare-chested the whole ti.

My eyes widened, and I hugged the shirt to my chest like my life depended on it.

I could've sworn I wore it.

How the hell did it end up off ?

"Oh my God," I whispered under my breath, feeling my whole body burn with embarrassnt. "Oh, God. Kill now."

The ground really needed to open up and swallow whole.

That would be easier than standing here in front of him, half-naked and red as hell.

I cleared my throat and muttered a small, awkward, "Thank you..."

Not because I ant it.

But because I didn't want to give him any more reason to delay .

I clutched the shirt tighter and started thinking of anything I could say to distract myself—to get out of this weird mont and change the energy.

Then it hit .

"Who called?" I asked quickly. "Who was found?"

Declan didn't respond.

He just rubbed his face like he was trying to calm the demon in his head.

"Was it Tyler?" I asked again, this ti softer.

Still nothing.

He just kept rubbing his face, jaw tense, avoiding my eyes like I wasn't even in the room.

I repeated myself again, my voice rising just a little.

"Declan... was it Tyler?"

And finally, he snapped.

"Shut the fuck up and leave alone!" he barked. "Once we get there, you'll see for yourself."

His voice cut through like ice.

So sharp. So cold.

I felt my heart sink a little—but I didn't show it.

I reminded myself that I was a strong woman.

So I nodded slowly and told myself, A win is a win.

At least my mind was off the fact that I'd been half-naked for over five minutes.

Declan turned to leave, and out of curiosity, I glanced at him.

And... wow.

He was hard. Rock solid.

I blinked.

Whoever saw him now wouldn't believe that this man had a wife sowhere.

Yet here he was—getting turned on by the sa woman he claid he hated.

Disgusting, right?

But also... a little ironic.

As I kept staring, still trying to wrap my head around it, he turned back slightly.

His eyes caught mine, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Quit staring," he growled. "If you keep looking at it, I won't have any choice but to shove it down your throat."

My mouth fell open a little—but no words ca out.

He didn't wait for a reply.

He just turned around and walked out.

And I followed him.

I honestly didn't have the strength to argue anymore.

Even if I wanted to argue—what was I supposed to say?

That he couldn't shove his damn dick down my throat just because he threatened to?

Please.

Hell no, I wasn't going to say that.

I closed the door behind and walked out.

He was already outside, walking fast like the devil was chasing him.

I trailed behind, keeping a little distance. My heart was still racing, and my pride... it was crawling on the floor.

Declan got to his car first.

He unlocked the car with a click and opened the driver's side door.

Without thinking too much, I walked around to the front passenger seat.

I an—it's not a cri to sit there, right?

But just as I reached for the handle to open the door...

"Get your bitch ass off my front seat!" he barked at .

I froze.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at him.

What the actual fuck?

Was he seriously shouting at over a seat?

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to snap. But oh, I was this close.

Why does he always do this?

Why does he keep finding new ways to piss off?

He could've just calmly told , "I don't like anyone sitting in the front with " or "Can you please sit in the back?"

I would've understood. I swear I would've.

I wouldn't have argued.

But no.

He had to insult . Again.

Like always.

Calling a bitch... like that's the only language he knows.

The only real bitch here is him.

A grown-ass man who can't go a single day without being an to a woman.

I hope he doesn't treats his new wife the sa way. I wouldn't be surprised if he does.

Because honestly? Once a toxic man, always a toxic man.

He was a walking red flag from head to toe.

I inhaled deeply, my hands shaking a little as I clenched them into fists.

It was high ti I gave him a damn piece of my mind.

"What did you just say?" I asked him, stepping closer.

Declan didn't even flinch.

In fact, he smirked. That ugly, condescending smirk I've grown to hate with every bone in my body.

"It seems you're deaf," he said sharply, voice cold like ice. "But I'll repeat myself, loud and clear."

He leaned across the driver's seat, locked eyes with like he wanted to pick a fight.

"Get your bitch ass off my front passenger seat. The only person who deserves to sit there is my one and only wife. So if you don't mind, take that nasty bitch ass of yours and sit in the back."

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then I laughed.

Not a polite laugh.

It was bitter. Loud. Full of disbelief.

"Oh... I'm a bitch now?" I said, still laughing as I leaned against the door, looking him dead in the eyes.

He froze.

"You didn't think I was a bitch when your dick jumped just because you saw my nipple," I said calmly. "You didn't rember I was a bitch when your eyes dropped to my chest like a starving dog, Declan."

He looked away for half a second.

"Tell ," I said, pushing myself off the door and walking closer to him. "What were you thinking when you had your hand between my thighs, hmm? Were you thinking, 'Oh, let touch this nasty bitch real quick'? Or were you thinking about how fast you could bend over my own couch?"

I tilted my head and smiled.

"Let guess... now I'm a bitch because I sat in your precious front seat?" I scoffed. "Are you fucking serious, Declan?"

I laughed again, even louder this ti.

"You know what's funny? You walk around pretending you hate , acting like I disgust you... but your dick keeps betraying you, doesn't it?"

Still no answer.

"So yeah. I'm a fucking bitch, right?" I stepped even closer now. Close enough for him to feel my breath.

"Fine. Let's go with that."

I leaned in, my eyes never leaving his.

"But tell sothing, husband of the year... does your sweet little wife know that the 'bitch' you hate so much was the sa one making your dick so hard you could barely breathe?"

He blinked. No words. No defense.

Just silence.

I smiled.

"And don't lie to yourself, Declan. You weren't thinking about your wife when you were breathing down my neck. You weren't thinking about her when your voice dropped low and dangerous. You weren't thinking about her when you spread my legs and looked like you were ready to—" I paused, watching his jaw tighten. "—lose control."

"I didn't ask to be dragged back into your life," I added quietly. "You ca to . You walked into my ho. And now you want to act like I'm the problem?"

I shook my head.

"You're the one with the wife, Declan. Not . You're the one who made promises to soone else. So don't stand there and act like I'm the villain because you can't keep your hands—or your filthy eyes—to yourself."

He still said nothing.

"You can insult all you want," I said, my voice soft but steady. "Call nas. Shove to the back seat like trash. But don't you ever forget what really happened."

I tapped his chest gently with my finger.

"You almost lost control because of ."

"And just so you know... next ti you threaten to shove it down my throat? You better pray I don't bite."