Chapter 702

I was completely caught off guard. Instinctively, I ducked my head, twisting to avoid him. But Wayne was stronger, and when he was this determined, there was no way I could break free.

“Rea, why is it okay for them, but not for me?” he rasped, his voice hoarse with anger and frustration. “I love you just as much as they do—maybe even more.”

I couldn’t think clearly, let alone explain anything. All I wanted was to shove him away, to escape, but I didn’t have the strength to fight him off.

His lips brushed the top of my head, then slid to my cheek. When he nuzzled against my neck, I felt the weight pressing on my waist vanish as Wayne was shoved back.

“Mr. Johnston,” Xander’s voice cut through the tension. “Things between men and women should be consensual. Forcing them? Well, that kind of ruins all the fun, don’t you think?”

His tone was nothing like Hayden’s. I didn’t know how Xander had managed to transform himself so completely, but hearing his voice right then felt like a lifeline.

Clinging to the edge of Xander’s jacket, my fingers trembling, I listened as he taunted Wayne with a calm that cut deep.

Wayne hadn’t had enough to drink to blame his behavior on being drunk. No, this wasn’t about alcohol—this was about me provoking him. He’d convinced himself that once Jace was out of the picture, he’d finally have his chance. Then Hayden came along, wrecking that dream. When Hayden disappeared, he thought he was in the clear—only for Xander to show up and derail everything all over again.

The frustration of chasing something so relentlessly, only to have it snatched away again and again, had finally pushed him over the edge.

“Xander Zane, who do you think you are to talk to me like this?” Wayne snarled, his glare radiating outright hostility.

For years, he’d worn a mask in front of me, but tonight, he’d ripped it off himself.

“Even if you’re a man of wealth and status, that doesn’t give you the right to force someone, does it?” Xander cast a quick glance at me before pinning Wayne with his gaze. “Don’t you think?”

Fury rolled off Wayne in waves. For a second, it felt like he might explode. I knew how dangerous Wayne could be. Even though I trusted Xander to handle him, I didn’t want things to spiral into an all-out fight.

I tightened my grip on Xander’s hand, whispering, “Take me away…”

The words came out so broken that even I was startled by how weak I sounded. Fear clawed at me. Wayne’s attempt to cross the line had shaken me to my core. Walking into this situation earlier, thinking I could test him, seemed so reckless now.

Xander’s hand rested gently on the top of my head. Then he raised an eyebrow at Wayne. “Mr. Johnston, shall I call you a driver?”

This version of Xander was a little mischievous, and undeniably roguish—nothing like the Hayden I once knew.

Wayne shot Xander a cold glare, then turned his gaze to me. He tore off his tie, spun on his heel, and stormed off.

The second he disappeared, I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. But before I could fully relax, the arm around my waist tightened.

I glanced up and froze. Those eyes? That quiet intensity? It was like a punch to the gut, taking me right back to when I first met him. Rugged, unyielding, impossible to ignore. “Hay…” The word barely formed on my lips before he shut it down, his voice cool, detached. “Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head quickly, but apparently, that wasn’t enough. His hand caught my chin, scanning me like he was searching for any sign Wayne had crossed a line.

The scrutiny made me feel awkward, especially knowing he was Hayden. Anger churned in my chest—this man had faked his death, shattered me completely, and now he showed up to see me like this?

I decided to mess with him. Twisting a little in his grip, I tugged at my clothes dramatically. “It’s so…hot.”

His face shifted in a flash, and his hand clamped around my wrist, pinning it. “What did you just say?”

I tilted my head back lazily, keeping my voice airy. “I…I feel itchy…so hot…”

His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths. With a low curse, he growled, “That bastard!”

Hook, line, and sinker. My little act had him convinced Wayne had drugged me.

Watching him spiral brought a twisted sense of satisfaction. Emboldened, I let my hand glide up to his face, tracing along his jaw, down to the hollow of his throat. Then, without missing a beat, I slid my hand beneath his collar.