Page 87 of Twisted Shot
Theo doesn’t answer. Because the answer is Richard.
Richard, who had to throw his weight around. Who couldn’t let Mila’s success go unpunished.
Theo’s fists curl so tight his knuckles pop, his nails biting into his palms. He imagines, just for a second, how it would feel to drive his fist straight into that smug mouth—teeth rattling under his knuckles, the sharp crack of cartilage and bone.
He’d never do it. He doesn’t get that luxury. Not when everything he’s built can be undone by one “outburst” in the wrong room.
But still. The desire lives in him, white-hot and crawling under his skin, so sharp he can feel it in his teeth. He wants it so badly he can taste blood.
Carter fumbles a line again. “Wait, is this the donor guy with the… ah, what’s his name—he’s the one with the wife who has that thing with the dogs?—”
“Oh my God,” Naomi mutters under her breath.
Theo takes a step forward. “Carter.”
He flinches, just barely, and looks up.
They lock eyes.
“How much did you actually drink?”
Carter’s smile wavers. “I told her three.”
“Yeah,” Theo says flatly. “So, what’s the real number?”
Carter squints up at the chandelier like he’s doing advanced math.
Theo exhales through his nose. His heart thuds like a war drum behind his ribs.
It’s not Carter’s fault. He didn’t know Mila would ask this of him.
But he can feel the pressure building—the immense weight ofeverything Mila put into tonight. Months of work. Late nights. Meetings. Planning. Trying to prove herself in front of clients who don’t respect her, and a man who actively tries to sabotage her.
And now it might all come apart because of this.
Because Richard couldn’t let her win without taking something from her.
Because no one protects her the way they should.
Theo’s jaw grinds as he stares at Carter, barely holding it together.
He wants to say a dozen things. Wants to unload.
But instead, he says simply, “You’re not going onstage like this.”
He doesn’t know what happens next.
But he knows one thing for sure. He will not let anyone ruin this night for her.
Not Richard. Not Carter. Not anyone.
CHAPTER 31
MILA
Everything is—finally—falling into place.
Mila makes one last round of the ballroom, offering practiced smiles and warm handshakes like she isn’t vibrating from the inside out. She compliments a donor’s cufflinks, thanks a board member’s wife for her ongoing support, accepts three compliments on the centerpieces with practiced humility.
