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Chapter 20: Playing Dirty

Like Hellfire in Her Lungs. The air was still. Thick with tension. Thicker with unsaid truths. A shiver slid down her spine, not from cold, not from fear, but from the irony that wrapped around her like a noose. Because once again, she stood trapped in the storm. Once again, her wrists were pinned in his grip, her body trembling not from helplessness-but from something far more painful.

That same unbearable certainty she had felt, the one that whispered, you are not free. The one that laughed in her face every time she imagined the word escape. She was a bird who'd once dared to fly, and he-he was the one who had clipped her wings so beautifully.
But this time... this time, something inside her cracked. Splintered. Snapped like a brittle thread pulled too tight for too long. And in that split second, she didn't feel powerless anymore. She felt rage. Hot, blinding rage that drowned out the pounding of her heart and burned beneath her skin like wildfire. The kind of rage that didn't beg for mercy-it promised war.

"I was never yours, Hayden." The words weren't just words. They were weapons. They sliced through the thick air between them like glass. Sharp. Honest. Unapologetically hers

She thrashed against his grip-wild, chaotic, messy. It wasn't clean. It wasn't pretty. But it was real. Desperate hands pushed against his chest, kicked at his legs, did anything they could to break free.

Hayden didn't flinch. Didn't yield. Instead, he laughed. Low, dark, a sound that curled through the room like smoke laced with poison.

That low, rich sound that vibrated through his chest and into her bones. Smooth as silk, but threaded with steel. "Is that so?" he murmured, voice soaked in mockery, smooth as silk but laced with steel it sent a shiver through her. Not from fear. From the unbearable reality of what he was. It made her want to scream. It made her want to destroy him. But more than anything-it reminded her exactly who she was up against.

He was a storm dressed in tailored suits and cruel smiles. She hated him. Because no matter how far she ran, how many times she swore she'd never look back, she always ended up in his shadow. She stopped pushing. Stopped kicking. Just... breathed. A slow, trembling breath. Then she looked up at him with something else entirely. Their gaze locked, their breath shallow.

Hayden didn't move. But she saw it-the tiny shift in his stance. The flicker of confusion. The almost imperceptible tension that curled beneath his skin the moment her body melted into calm. His jaw ticked. There. A crack in the armour.

"If you think I'm going to spend the rest of my life being your possession-" Her fingers, delicate and deliberate, traced the edge of his jacket. A lover's touch. A liar's move. She saw the way his gaze darkened. Focused. "-then you don't know me at all." And in one swift, fluid motion-

She grabbed his pistol from his holster and pointed it straight at him. at his chest. At his heart.

The room went silent except for the sharpness of their breaths, the slow ticking of the grand clock overhead. Time slowed. The air grew so thick she could barely breathe.

For the first time, Hayden's smirk faltered. For the first time, Evelyn wasn't the one trembling. She was holding the power now. The weight of the gun pressed into her palm like fate. Like freedom. It wasn't just a weapon-it was hope.

His gaze didn't move from her face. Neither did the barrel. She held it steady, even as her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Even as her chest ached with the effort of not collapsing into tears. For the first time, the gun wasn't just cold metal. It was freedom. Control. It was the universe tilting just slightly in her favour.

The room was so quiet she could hear her heartbeat crashing in her ears, the soft, mocking tick of the clock on the wall slicing through the silence like a countdown.

She took a breath. Steady. Sharp. She didn't let her hands shake. Not now.

"Let me go," she whispered, the gun trembling just slightly in her hand.

Hayden didn't speak. He just watched her.

Evelyn tightened her grip, her hands steady despite the chaos roaring inside her chest. She had to be steady. She had to end this before he found a way to-

Click.

Her stomach plummeted. Her pulse stopped.

A slow, dangerous chuckle rumbled from Hayden's chest. That sound. That unbearable, mocking sound that sent a chill creeping up her spine. He bit his lower lip a chuckle escaping again from him. His brown shades rests deeper onto his nose. The sound of a man who never loses.

She pulled the trigger again. Nothing. Her breath was heavy.

Hayden tilted his head, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. "Sweetheart," he said softly, voice coated in razor blades, "did you really think I'd let you steal a loaded gun?"

He knew. He'd known. From the start.

Before she could react, his hand snapped forward, gripping her wrist so tightly she swore she felt her bones tremble beneath his touch. He twisted. The gun slipped from her grasp, clattered to the floor like it had never belonged in her hands to begin with.

She gasped, stumbling back. But he caught her. Of course he caught her. He always did. Arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him. Her chest collided with his, and all the air fled her lungs in one painful rush. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear.

"You almost had me for a second there," he murmured, voice rich with amusement. "Almost." His grip was unrelenting, but it wasn't cruel. Not like before. This wasn't about hurting her. This was about owning her.

She clenched her jaw, her body shaking with fury and something she couldn't name. Couldn't afford to name. Hayden dipped his head, his voice dropping to that dark, slow cadence that always made her want to scream.

"Face it, sweetheart," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You don't want to run. Not really."

Her nails dug into his arms. "I hate you."

And that smile of his widened, like she'd just told him a love confession instead. "That's what makes this so fun."

Evelyn tried not to let the shiver betray her. Tried not to let him see that he had shaken her. But He saw everything. And he was savouring every second of it.

For a moment, just a moment, Evelyn had thought she could win. She had thought she could finally turn the tables, outplay him, break free. But Hayden Lopez was not the kind of man you won against. Not in a fight. Not in a war.

And certainly not in a game he invented.

She felt the shift the second he smirked. That knowing smirk. The one that told her everything was already over before it had even begun. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned in, his grip on her wrist firm-unrelenting.

"You really thought it would be that easy, didn't you?" His voice was smooth, dark amusement dripping from every word.

Her stomach twisted. "You bastard," she hissed.

"Don't be mean," he purred. "You played dirty. So did I."

Her hands trembled as she looked up at him. "What did you do?" she whispered.

Hayden smirked, brushing his thumb along her wrist where her pulse was hammering like a trapped bird. "Wrong question. Right is-" He leaned in, eyes dark as night, voice low and cruel. "What made you think you ever stood a chance?"

The worse? Now, he knew just how far she was willing to go to escape him. Her thoughts cut off as Hayden's grip on her tightened, his fingers warm and unyielding around her wrist. He was watching her with quiet amusement, his expression betraying nothing but victory.

Her stomach turned to ice. "No."

Panic clawed at her throat as she lunged forward, but Hayden was faster. His arm snapped around her waist, pulling her back against him with ease.

"Shh," he cooed mockingly, his lips ghosting against her temple. "Wouldn't want to make a scene, now, would we?"

Evelyn's breath came in shallow, uneven waves, her mind slipping away from the present as reality crashed over her. James's body lay limp on the cold floor, unmoving. The sight sent a fresh wave of panic through her, but when she closed her eyes, the past crept in like a whisper-unrelenting, inescapable.

Weeks ago...

She had stood in a grand, opulent hall, trapped in the role she had been forced to play. Like a puppet. Hayden's arm rested possessively around her waist, his other hand casually holding a glass of champagne. She had worn a mask of politeness, smiling at the people who approached him, pretending that this was normal. That she belonged here.

Hayden was deep in conversation with a man, his grip on her unwavering, when Evelyn let her gaze wander across the glittering room. And then, she saw them. A pair of familiar eyes.

Her breath caught, her body stiffening before she forced herself to stay composed. If Hayden noticed anything unusual, if he sensed even a flicker of recognition in her, it would be over.

But James had already seen her.

Relief flooded her expression, her lips parting as she took a slow breath. Someone she knew. Someone from the life she had lost. But James, James wasn't relieved. His features darkened, confusion and anger flashing in his gaze as he took in the sight of her standing there-with Hayden.

Evelyn's heart pounded. She gave the smallest shake of her head, a silent plea, her eyes screaming the words she couldn't say. Don't. Don't come closer.

He started toward her, his fists clenched at his sides, oblivious to the danger he was walking into. He didn't understand. And she couldn't let him-not now, not ever. She would rather burn than drag James into the darkness Hayden carried.

It had been a year since she disappeared from his life. A year of silence, of unanswered questions. And now, seeing her here, in Hayden's arms, was too much for him to accept.

Evelyn's breath hitched as James raked a hand through his hair, frustration rolling off him in waves. His gaze flickered to the side, spotting a hallway near the corner. Then, his eyes found hers again. A silent message passed between them before he turned and disappeared inside.

She exhaled shakily, her fingers curling at her sides. This was reckless. This was dangerous.

Slowly, she turned to Hayden, forcing her voice to stay calm as she leaned in and whispered, "I need to use the restroom."

Hayden barely glanced at her, nodding once before returning his attention to his conversation.

Evelyn swallowed hard, her pulse roaring in her ears as she forced herself to walk, not too fast, not too slow. Each step felt like a battle between freedom and destruction.

The bathroom door in front of her. She hesitated, taking one last breath before gripping the handle. The soft click of metal echoed in the quiet as she slipped inside.


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Misa Hills

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Writing has always been my heart, and now I want to turn it into something more. With your support, I can keep creating heartfelt, intense stories without limits. Every little bit helps me stay focused, inspired, and closer to becoming an Author.

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