"Do you want to get back at her?"
The words tumbled out of Riley’s mouth before she could stop them. Even she was surprised by the sharpness in her tone, the unspoken desperation beneath it.
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head. "Of course not."
"Then why are you looking at her like you do?" Riley snapped, eyes narrowing.
Ethan exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. "Will you stop it, Riley?" His voice dropped, low and cutting. "This is not the ti for your jealousy."
And then he walked away.
Riley stood there, frozen, her breath catching in her throat.
Ethan had never spoken to her like that before. Not once. The coldness in his voice, the irritation behind his words—it was a slap to the face.
Her nails dug into her palm as she watched him disappear into the crowd.
Was it because of Celeste? He only acted like that when the woman ca.
Was she losing him too?
The thought sent a chill down her spine.
Ethan downed his drink, his mind clouded with frustration.
Riley had been prying too much lately.
She questioned him constantly—who he was with, who he talked to, and God forbid there was a woman in his business dealings, because she would always confront him about it.
"Is she one of your girlfriends?"
"How long have you been seeing her?"
"Are you serious about her?"
At first, he didn’t mind. A little jealousy could be flattering. But lately, it felt like she was monitoring him, as if she had so claim over his life that she had never earned.
And the worst part?
It made him think of Celeste.
Celeste had never pried into his personal affairs. She had known what she was to him—his convenience, his escape. She never demanded exclusivity, never made a scene about other won. As long as he gave her so attention, she stayed in her place.
The only ti she ever snapped was when he forgot their dates, when he failed to keep his promises. That was the only thing she asked of him—to honor the monts they had together.
But she had never questioned his choices.
She had never acted like she owned him.
And now . . . now she was sitting at her table, the sa woman yet soone entirely new.
She looked untouchable.
Gone was the girl who once clung to him, desperate for the affection he carelessly threw her way. In her place was a woman who exuded effortless confidence, who commanded attention without asking for it.
And Ethan hated how many n were looking at her. Wanting her.
Because for the first ti, he realized—he had let go of sothing important. Sothing that, maybe, he would never get back.
Before he even processed his own actions, his feet moved on their own. One mont, he was standing with a drink in hand. The next, he was standing before her.
And Celeste . . .
She looked up at him with those sharp, knowing eyes, not a hint of surprise in them.
"Mr. Carter," she greeted smoothly, a small, polite smile gracing her lips. "Do you need sothing?"
And that was when Ethan realized—he had been srized by her.
And maybe, just maybe . . .
She knew it.
Ethan cleared his throat, forcing nonchalance into his voice. "Nothing much. Just wondering why you’re alone. Where’s that arrogant prick, Alexander? Did he finally get rid of you after you ran him dry?"
Celeste let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Actually, no. He’ll be here soon," she said smoothly, swirling the champagne in her glass. "And for your information, Mr. Carter, Alexander has more than enough wealth. So you don’t need to worry about us."
Ethan scoffed. "Wealth?" He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Do you really believe that? You have no idea where he gets his money, do you?"
Celeste resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Oh, please, Mr. Carter. Let’s not pretend that everyone in this world hasn’t dabbled in certain dealings to build their fortune—including you." She smirked, tilting her head. "So what gives you the right to call anyone out?"
Ethan’s jaw clenched, his irritation flaring. "You’re defending him now? How much is Alexander paying you? Did he gave you a condo and a car or sothing?"
"That’s right," ca a deep, unmistakable voice from behind them.
The entire room fell silent.
All heads turned toward the entrance, and an audible gasp rippled through the guests as Alexander Vale made his entrance.
He was a vision of power and nace, dressed in an all-white suit that only served to amplify his cold, lethal presence. His platinum-white hair glead under the golden chandeliers, his sharp, golden eyes locking onto Ethan with quiet amusent. He grinned, the kind of smirk that sent shivers down spines—the smirk of a man who knew he was untouchable.
Of course, he had heard everything.
And his chest ward at the way Celeste had fiercely defended him. But there was also possessiveness and jealousy in his heart at the sight of Ethan so near her.
He strode forward leisurely, hands in his pockets, exuding effortless dominance as he stopped beside Celeste. Then, his gaze settled on Ethan, amusent flickering in his eyes.
"And I think it’s none of your business how I spend my money on my woman, Mr. Carter," Alexander said smoothly, his voice velvety yet carrying an undeniable edge.
Ethan didn’t back down. Their eyes locked in a silent war, tension thick between them.
"You’re not afraid she’ll drain you?" Ethan sneered. "If I were you, I’d be careful. You might not realize when she’s already sucked you dry."
Alexander let out a low, amused chuckle. "Draining dry? Don’t lump in with you." He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "With a woman like Celeste? Every penny I spend on her is worth it." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "And you don’t need to concern yourself with my money, Carter. You and I both know—I will never run out of it."
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