Page 19 of The Bittersweet Bond

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Sebastian

Bas stepped out of the club with quick strides, his hands clenched into fists. The cold night air hit his face, but it was nothing compared to the ice that had settled in his chest. His heart was pounding, a dull thudding that followed him the entire way home. He forced himself not to look back—not to search for her.

What the hell was she thinking?

He yanked the car door open, dropped into the seat, and slammed the door shut behind him. His gaze fell to his hands—his knuckles white from clenching his fists too hard. He didn’t want to react like this. He didn’t want her to have that kind of power over him. But she knew exactly what she was doing.

She wanted to provoke him. She wanted to see how far she could push him. What else could it be?

He started the engine, drove aimlessly through the city, the lights smearing into blurry reflections on the windshield. His phone vibrated—a message from someone. He ignored it.

He couldn’t talk to anyone right now.

Why had he even let her get this close? He had known better.

He knew what she was—a game, a fucking mystery that kept him hooked even as he kept telling himself he didn’t care.

He had seen it too many times. The way she laughed, the way she tilted her head back as if the world around her didn’t exist. The way she spoke to someone as if that moment was just for them—as if she was fully present, while at the same time keeping all her doors open.

She knew exactly how to manipulate him.

And yet, he had given her that moment. Let her get close. Allowed her to humiliate him. A mistake.

He pressed down on the gas, feeling his adrenaline spike. But the anger was deceptive—it wasn’t just aimed at her.

Wasn’t it him who had let this happen?

He knew she had been flirting with Ben. But had she done it to hurt him—or was it just his own possessiveness making him lose his mind?

He came to an abrupt stop, right at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean.The engine hummed softly, the city lights flickered behind him, the waves crashing against the rocks below.

Now he could breathe, let the night sink in. The wind, the sound of the surf. His heartbeat barely slowed.

He wanted her. Not because he was in love with her.

He wanted her because she was slipping through his fingers.

Because she didn’t do what he expected her to. Because she challenged him, because she pulled away just as he was about to reach her.

And he hated it.

Hate. Obsession. Control. Everything blurred together.

A bitter laugh escaped him—low, almost mocking. Maybe that was exactly her trick. Maybe she had already figured him out. Maybe she knew he would risk everything just to be near her—and that was exactly what made him predictable in her eyes.

His jaw tightened, his gaze turning steely.

This wasn’t a game she was going to win.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, turned it between his fingers, then tapped on their chat. Nothing. No message.

His stare lingered on the empty screen. Seconds passed.

He hadn’t expected her to text him. Or had he?

With a sharp breath, he locked his phone and leaned back against the headrest. The urge to check again gnawed at him, but he ignored it. He had to stop letting her get to him.

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