My thumb hovered over the message for several seconds after I sent it.
'Mr. Blackwood. Your wife is at my home with my husband. I thought you should know. — Sullivan.'
The photograph was still attached beneath it, showing exactly what I had seen when I opened my bedroom door. Looking at it now made my stomach twist. A few minutes ago, I had wanted Vance to see it. I wanted him to feel the same shock that had gone through me when I realized Jovi was in my bed with Zane. I wanted him to know that while he had been looking for his wife, she had been with another man.
But now that the message was actually there, I suddenly understood what would happen if he saw it. Their marriage would fall apart. His reputation would be dragged into this mess. Jovi would know that I had been the one who exposed her.
And most importantly, I would no longer be able to pretend that I had nothing to do with what happened next.
My thumb moved across the screen before I could change my mind. I opened the message options and retracted it, watching the photograph disappear with the words I had just sent.
I stared at the empty space on my screen for a long moment. I had the perfect chance to hurt them, and I had backed away.
Maybe I was still the same woman who had spent five years forgiving everything because I loved them too much. Zane had been my best friend before he became my husband, and Jovi had been the person who knew almost everything about me. They had been part of my life for so long that destroying them felt almost like destroying a part of myself.
I hated that I still felt that way.
I locked my phone and threw it onto the passenger seat before starting the car. I didn't know where I was going, and at that moment I didn't care. I only knew that I couldn't go back home and sit across from the two people who had just destroyed everything I had built my life around.
I drove for another hour, maybe two. The city lights passed outside my window while I tried not to think about the bedroom, the sheets, Jovi's face, or the way Zane had looked at me when he realized I had seen them. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still see them together, and every time I opened them, I felt the same crushing pain in my chest.
Eventually, I found myself in a part of the city I barely knew, in front of a bar I had never noticed before. I parked without thinking too much about it and walked inside.
The bartender looked at me as I took a seat.
"Gin. Straight."
He didn't ask anything else. I appreciated that.
The first glass burned my throat, but I welcomed the feeling. It was easier to concentrate on the heat spreading through my body than the emptiness inside my chest. I ordered another, and by the time I finished it, my phone had started vibrating against the table.
I already knew who it was. I turned the screen over anyway.
Jovi: Neri, please. It was a MISTAKE. A moment of weakness. We can talk.
Another message appeared almost immediately.
Zane: Baby please. Where are you? I'm freaking out. Let me explain.
I stared at his message until my eyes became wet. 'Baby.'
He had called me that for five years. He had said it when he kissed me good morning, when he came home from work, when we were lying together in the dark. Now the same word made something bitter rise in my throat. I turned the phone face down and ordered another drink.
For once, I didn't want to listen to them because I only wanted to think about myself.
My head had already begun to feel heavy, and the room seemed warmer than before. I was staring blankly at the bottles behind the bar when someone approached me from the side.
"Hey, lonely girl. Come have some fun with us." A man's hand settled around my waist.
I immediately tried to move away, but my body reacted slower than I wanted. "Go away."
The man laughed, his breath heavy with beer and cheap cologne. "Feisty. I like it."
Another man moved closer from the other side, and when I tried to push them away, my hand barely managed to move.
"Stop," I muttered, my voice weaker than I wanted.
"She said stop." The voice came from behind me. It wasn't loud, but it carried something cold enough to make the men release me immediately.
I turned around unsteadily, and my stomach dropped when I saw who was standing there. Vance.
The heir of the Blackwood family was still wearing the expensive suit I had seen him in earlier that day, although his tie was slightly loosened and his grey eyes looked colder than they had that morning. He had been searching for his wife when I told him I hadn't seen her. Now he had found me drunk in a bar instead.
For a moment, neither of us said anything. I remembered the first time I had met him seven years ago, when Jovi married him. I had been standing beside her in a bridesmaid dress, smiling for photographs while she walked toward the man she had chosen instead of Zane. Vance had looked at me once during the ceremony. It had been nothing more than a brief glance, but I remembered it now for some reason.
"Can you stand?" he asked. His voice was deeper than I remembered, with a roughness that seemed strange coming from someone who usually spoke so calmly.
"I think so." I pushed myself off the stool. My legs immediately gave way.
Vance caught me before I could fall, his arm coming around my waist to steady me. I could feel the strength in his grip as he kept me upright, and when I looked up at him, his expression remained calm despite the situation.
He helped me outside, half dragging my slumped body as the cold air hit my face. I stumbled beside him, relying on his arm to keep me standing, and he eventually half-carried me to his car.
He drove me to a hotel.
I barely remembered the ride. When we reached the room, he helped me inside and placed me on the edge of the bed. I watched him turn toward the door, and something inside me panicked at the thought of being alone again.
I reached out and caught his jacket. "Don't go."
He stopped and looked down at my hand.
I tightened my fingers around the fabric because I suddenly didn't know what else to do. "Please. Just... don't leave me alone."
Vance remained still for a moment. His expression was difficult to read, but something flickered briefly in his eyes before he looked away. "Let go."
I didn't. The alcohol had taken away the restraint I normally had, and all the hurt I had been carrying since I opened that bedroom door came spilling out.
"Why does everyone pick her?" I asked, my voice breaking. "Why am I never enough? Why my bed? Wasn't taking him enough? She had to take my bed too?"
Vance's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
I stared at him through my blurred vision, and then a thought entered my mind that was cruel, childish, and somehow comforting.
'She slept with my husband. So why can't I kiss her husband?'
My fingers tightened around his jacket. I pulled him down before I could think about what I was doing and pressed my mouth against his.
For a moment, Vance froze.
I could feel the surprise in the sudden stillness of his body, but I didn't pull away. The kiss tasted of gin and tears, and I knew it was wrong, yet I couldn't seem to stop myself. I wanted to feel something other than the pain that had been tearing through me since I walked into that room.
Then his hand came to my face, and he kissed me back. The kiss was nothing like I expected. It wasn't gentle or hesitant. There was a restrained anger in it, something almost desperate beneath the control he carried everywhere else. His thumb pressed against my jaw as he pulled me closer, and for a few seconds, I forgot about Zane and Jovi and the broken marriage waiting for me outside the room.
Then Vance suddenly pulled away. He was breathing harder now, and his eyes were fixed on me with an expression I had never seen on his face before. His hand remained near my cheek for another second before he slowly lowered it.
"Are you kissing me because you want me," he asked, his voice rougher than before, "or because your husband betrayed you?"
The question caught me completely off guard. For a moment, something changed in Vance's expression as though he already regretted asking. His eyes shifted away from mine, his jaw tightening while he straightened himself and pulled his jacket back into place. The controlled expression returned to his face, but it wasn't quite as perfect as before.
"Forget I asked." His voice was quieter.
I stared at him, still trying to understand why his question had affected me so much.
He turned toward the door, then looked back at me once. "Get some sleep."
He left before I could say anything.
The door closed behind him, and I remained sitting on the bed, staring at it while the alcohol continued to cloud my thoughts.
Morning came with a headache that made me regret every glass I had drunk. I woke slowly and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling above me. The bed was too soft, the room smelled faintly of expensive hotel soap, and for several seconds I had no idea where I was.
Then the memories came back. I had gotten drunk and kissed Vance Blackwood.
I immediately sat up and looked down at myself. My clothes were still on, although they were wrinkled from sleeping in them, and relief washed through me when I realized nothing else had happened.
But that relief lasted only a moment. I covered my face with both hands as embarrassment and regret rushed through me. What had I been thinking?
The bathroom door opened, and Vance stepped out. His hair was still wet from the shower, but his face was already composed, as if the previous night had never happened.
His eyes met mine briefly before he walked toward the table and picked up his watch.
His question last night echoed in my mind, 'Are you kissing me because you want me, or because your husband betrayed you?'
I looked away because I already knew the answer now that my mind was clear.
I hadn't kissed him because I wanted him. I had kissed him because Jovi had slept with my husband, and some ugly part of me had decided that if she could take what belonged to me, then perhaps I could take something that belonged to her. But what would that change? I felt sick thinking about it.
Vance noticed my expression.
"You reek of a bar floor," he said flatly. "Shower. You have a 9:30 meeting. Lydia said you have the final numbers for the Harrington project."
The sheer normalcy of it stunned me silent.
"What?" I asked him in disbelief.
"Take a shower." He adjusted the cuff of his shirt.
"I... understand."
I stood up slowly, averting my eyes from his gaze and entering the bathroom.
As the warm water washed over me, I kept praying that it would wash away the memory of the kiss and the betrayal that had haunted me since last nigh
I scrubbed my lips until they stung. But the kiss wouldn't disappear.
We left the hotel fifteen minutes later. The hallway was quiet as we walked toward the elevators, and neither of us spoke. I kept my eyes forward, grateful that he wasn't looking at me because I didn't know how I could possibly meet those grey eyes after what I had done.
Then we turned the corner. Zane and Jovi were standing near the ice machine. Zane's arm was around her, and she was leaning against him.
Jovi noticed us first. Her eyes moved from me to Vance, then down to my wrinkled clothes before returning to his face. The shock that appeared in her expression lasted only a second before something harder replaced it.
Zane followed her gaze. His eyes moved over my clothes, then to Vance's slightly damp hair, and finally to the space between us. I watched his face change as he slowly understood what he was seeing.
Jovi's hand flew to her mouth. The shock that appeared in her expression lasted only a second before something harder replaced it, and when she looked at me again, I could see the outrage slowly taking over her face. The hypocrisy of it almost made me laugh.
I felt the old instinct to explain myself, to tell them that nothing had happened between Vance and me. But then I remembered the photograph I had taken the night before and the message I had sent to Vance before retracting it.
Vance's gaze remained fixed on his wife. "Jovienne."
Her entire body stiffened at the sound of his voice. He took one slow step toward her, his expression unreadable.
"There you are."