Page 2 of Secret Betrayals
Being caught doesn’t matter to him.
Idon’t matter.
And that’s fine.
Fool me once, right?
To keep from snapping, I glance down at my wrist like I’ve got somewhere else to be—like I’m checking a watch I’m not wearing. Petty, I know. But it helps. Keeps my hands from reaching into my purse for the knife I always carry. Keeps me from acting on the rage simmering just beneath my skin.
She finally looks at me. And something in her eyes shifts. Recognition. Triumph. She thinks she’s won, and maybe she has. What she thinks or feels doesn’t matter.
Brian climbs off the bed, his back to me like I’ve never mattered. I watch his shoulders tense, his body alert. He grabs his jeans, slides them on, still not looking at me. Then comes the shirt. Still no acknowledgment. Instead, he turns toher, kisses her on the cheek, pats her thigh like she’s earned a damn prize.
A show. That’s what this is. A performance. But I won’t give them the satisfaction. I hold back the whisper of pain that crawls up my throat. I bury it so deep that neither of them will ever see what this is doing to me.
Finally, Brian turns. His face is blank. Cold. And when his eyes flick over my shoulder, catching Flick’s gaze, he shakes his head. Like I’m the problem. LikeI’mthe inconvenience. I stiffen when a hand lands gently on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry, girl,” Flick whispers, low and quiet. Then he’s gone. His boots retreat down the hall, and I’m left staring at a man I no longer recognize.
Brian meets my gaze again. And in that moment, he knows. The game’s over. What he doesn’t know—what none of them know—is that this little betrayal could cost him more than just me. It could’ve burned down his club and everything attached to it.
I could be petty.
I should be petty.
He deserves that and so much more.
But I give him nothing.
No rage.
No tears.
No words.
Just a cold, unreadable stare.
He gets nothing from me now—not my love, loyalty, or even anger. Never again. Fuck hope and loving a man who was never worthy of it.
Brian—orTalon, as he’s known around here—finally breaks the stare and turns to the girl beside him. “You were great, babe, but you gotta go,” he says through clenched teeth. Trying to hold on to that king-of-the-room persona. But my presence rattles him more than he expected.
Good.
He turns back to me, eyes locking onto mine, reigniting our silent standoff. I know what he’s doing—posturing for her, trying not to look weak. Fine by me. Let him play whatever game he wants. This is his last chance to try me.
He narrows his eyes, lifts a brow like he’s daring me to react. He wants the show. He’s not getting one. He’s not worth it. No tears. No rage. Nothing. Andthatwill cut deeper than any meltdown ever could.
Talon has always underestimated me. Thinks I’m weak because I don’t scream. Because I don’t party every weekend. Because I don’t press for answers. He acts like I’m clueless. He doesn’t know I’ve heard what he says about me to his brothers.
While we keep our eyes locked, the girl scrambles for her clothes, glancing between us like she’s waiting for someone to explode. I ignore her. I’ve seen her at a few parties—never an official club girl, but close enough. Something’s always felt off about her, but I’ve always brushed it off. Not anymore.
Icouldbe petty. A few keystrokes and I’d know her life story—where she’s from, who she’s fucking, and why she’s been orbiting Talon like he’s the sun. But after today, that’s not my business. Whatever comes next lands onhisshoulders. Not mine.
I shake my head, seeing in her eyes that she’s planning on saying or doing something dumb. It’s obvious. She attempts toshoulder-check me on her way out. I saw it coming a mile away and sidestepped without breaking eye contact with Talon.
I need her gone so I can finish this, grab my things, and leave his life for good.
She pauses just outside the doorway. I hear her step back, feel her get close. Her breath hits the back of my neck as she whispers…
