Page 119 of The Bittersweet Bond

Evin’s stomach twisted.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Dominic’s smirk deepened. "Oh, come on, Evin. You really don’t remember? A few months ago? Different guy, same scene."

Her pulse spiked.Ben.

She didn’t want to think about it, about how much damage that night had caused. About how much worse everything had gotten afterward.

The words hit sharper than she wanted them to.

Before she could fire back, a familiar hand slid around her waist.

Bas's presence was solid, unwavering, as he stepped forward—not even looking at her, his focus locked on the guy in front of them.

"You don’t see that she’s with me?"

His voice was cool. Calm. Controlled. But there was no mistaking the weight behind it.

The hand at her waist? Unshakable.

The guy hesitated, his smirk slipping just slightly.

"Hey, man," he muttered, raising his hands. "Didn’t mean anything by it. No need to go all territorial."

Bas didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

Didn’t say a word.

He just stared.

Until the guy finally took the hint and melted back into the crowd.

But the moment he was gone, Evin heard Dominic’s mocking laugh.

"What’s this, Bas? Letting her put you on a leash now?" Dominic crossed his arms, his expression dripping with that arrogant smugness that made Evin’s blood boil. "Evin just can’t help herself, huh? Always putting on a show."

A surge of anger rose in Evin’s chest. Normally, she would’ve ignored him, brushed it off like all the other times, but tonight? The alcohol, the adrenaline, the weight of everything pressing in—she didn’t hold back.

"You know what, Dominic?" she said coolly, stepping closer to him. "What you call ‘drama’ is just my life. Sorry if you don’t get that. But honestly? I don’t give a damn."

Dominic raised an eyebrow and let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, how cute. The tough Evin act is back. The whole school knows you’re nothing but trouble. Aren’t you tired of pretending you’re different?"

Before Evin could even think of a comeback, a hand pressed firmly against her lower back—solid, unyielding.

Bas stepped in, closing the space between him and Dominic like a silent threat. His voice, when he spoke, was cold, clipped, cutting straight through the noise of the club.

"You need to shut the fuck up, D."

His tone wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It was the kind of quiet that carried weight, the kind that sent a sharp edge of tension slicing through the air.

Dominic’s smirk twitched, his fingers flexing around the bottle in his hand. "Relax, man. I’m just saying—"

Bas tilted his head slightly, his jaw tightening. "No. You’re running your mouth about shit that doesn’t concern you." His grip on Evin’s waist didn’t budge. "And I promise you, D, you don’t want to find out what happens when I stop being patient."

The words landed heavy between them, pressing into the charged space like a warning carved in stone.

Dominic held his stare for a long second, then exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath as he backed off into the crowd.

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