Chapter 150 A VERY BAD MOOD

Chapter 150 A VERY BAD MOOD
(Eli's POV)

It's been one week and five days. One week and five damn days since that barbecue night where Lovia tried to glue herself to Julian and Julian acted clueless.

One week and five days since I got angry. And Julian still hadn't asked me why. The worst part is he barely talked to me anymore. He’d leave early every morning, and come back late every night.
Whenever I saw him, he was working. Whenever I wanted to annoy him, he was busy. Whenever I wanted him to notice me, he wasn't around.

It was annoying. Very annoying.

And somehow Lovia seemed to be everywhere since that day. She was at the company. She was at meetings. She went to events with him. She comes to the house almost every day. She's now always around Julian.
Every time I opened social media there was another photo of Julian and Lovia entering a building, Julian and Lovia leaving a building, Julian and Lovia talking, Julian and Lovia smiling, Julian and Lovia existing in the same damn frame.

The headlines weren't helping.

OLD FLAMES REIGNITING?

JULIAN THORNE AND LOVIA DEVON GROW CLOSER AMID FAMILY SCANDAL

IS THERE TROUBLE IN THE THORNE MARRIAGE?

I hated those headlines. I absolutely hated them. Which was stupid. Because why was I even angry? I didn't like Julian, at least that was what I kept telling myself. I was being careful. That was all. I was protecting myself. I was pretending to be sweet and all in love because it was safer.

Meanwhile I had successfully moved more millions into my secret account.

Everything was going according to plan. So why was I angry?
Why did every photo of Julian and Lovia make me want to throw away my phone? Why did every mention of her make my mood worse? Why was I imagining stupid things?

I squeezed the trigger, and…

Bang.

Another shot hit the target.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

"Hey, relax." Damien's voice broke through my thoughts.

I blinked, and the shooting range came back into focus.
The target looked terrible, the paper was practically shredded.

"When did that happen?" I asked.

Damien lowered his headphones. "Over the last ten minutes."

"Oh."

"You've torn the target apart."

I stared at it.

He wasn't wrong. The thing looked like it had personally offended me.

"Why are you shooting with so much aggression?"

I looked down at the gun in my hand. Only then did I realize my fingers hurt, my shoulders hurt too. I had been shooting on autopilot. My mind wasn't even here.

I sighed. Then tossed the gun onto the table.

Damien immediately frowned. "You can't be reckless with a gun."

"Sorry."

"What is wrong with you?" He asked, clearly concerned.

"Nothing." I replied, dismissive.

"Eli."

"I'm okay."

"No, you are not."

I looked away. Because unfortunately he was right. I wasn't okay. I was irritated, confused, suspicious, and increasingly annoyed by things that shouldn't matter.

Damien removed his headphones and mine.

"Come on."

"What?"

"Let's go home."

I didn't argue. I simply walked out.

The ride back was quiet.

Damien drove, and I stared out the window. The scenery blurred past, and my thoughts kept circling the same questions.

My father, Julian, the marriage, the missing memories, the kidnapping… Everything felt wrong. Like there was a giant puzzle sitting in front of me and everyone already knew the answer except me.

When we got home, I immediately noticed Julian's car wasn't there.

Good.

I wasn't in the mood.

I walked inside and saw the television was on.

A news anchor appeared on the screen.

"...sources close to the Devon family claim the affair may have begun nearly two years into the marriage."

I stopped walking.

The reporter continued. "Mrs. Devon's official statement described the betrayal as devastating."

The screen changed to footage of Mrs. Devon.

Her eyes looked red and her voice shook: "The most painful part is that it started during a period when I was struggling with health issues and infertility."

I frowned.

The woman continued: "I loved my husband. Trusted him. Supported him. I never imagined this."

The footage ended, and the reporter returned:

"Meanwhile, Julian Thorne has publicly shown support for Mrs. Devon and her daughter Lovia Devon throughout the scandal."

A photo appeared. A photo of Julian and Lovia, standing together, smiling.

Then another.

Then another.

Then another.

The reporter grinned. "Many social commentators have expressed surprise at the growing closeness between the two. Some are even calling them the return of society's favorite love birds."

Love birds.

I stared at the screen.

Love birds.

Love birds?

My eyes twitched. Then I picked up the remote, switched off the TV, and threw the remote.

The remote exploded against the wall; plastic pieces scattered everywhere.

Damien looked at the destroyed remote, then at me.

"Well."

"What?"

"Now I'm convinced you're mad about something."

I folded my arms. "I'm not."

"Sure."

"Why don't you go rest or something?"

"I'm working."

"You're my bodyguard, not my shadow."

"I know."

"Then go away."

Damien considered me for a moment.. then he smiled. "I could go rest."

"Good."

"I do need it."

"Excellent."

"But..."

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"We could go somewhere exciting."

I glared at him, and he grinned.

"I know a nice spot."

"No. I'm not interested."

"Come on."

"No, Damien, please don't piss me off."

"Let's go clubbing."

I blinked. Clubbing? "What?"

"You heard me."

I actually thought about it… then I shook my head.

"No."

Damien shrugged. "Your loss."

I turned away… then paused. "Julian and Anton?"

"What about them? Your husbands don't have to know."

"They'll know."

Damien leaned against the couch."They won't, they're not coming home until after midnight."

I turned back. "What do you mean?"

"They're attending an event."

I frowned. "What event?"

"Important one. It's outside the city, the venue is 3 hours away, and the party starts at 9 PM and they can't leave early either."

"Why not?"

"Because Julian needs positive visibility."

I rolled my eyes. “Meaning?”

"Meaning he has to be seen by investors and business partners."

"Oh."

"The whole point is proving he's not the unstable man his mother claims he is."

That made sense, unfortunately.

Then Damien casually added, "Lovia is going too."

"What?” I immediately stood up. "Come help me pick an outfit, we're going clubbing."

Damien burst out laughing. "I knew it."

"Shut up."

We headed upstairs.

I took a quick shower while Damien browsed through my closet.

By the time I came out of the bathroom, Damien had already picked out my clothes and laid them on the bed.

Black jean shorts, white fitted tank top, black boots.

I raised an eyebrow.

"You want me dead?"

"I want you noticed."

"Same thing. I can't afford to draw attention, Julian would lose his mind if he finds out I went out in those."

"Trust me."

Unfortunately, he was usually right about clothes.

A few minutes later I was dressed.

Damien went back to the closet and came back with a black hat.

"Can I borrow this?"

"Sure."

He said “thanks” and put it on.

"And we're all set— wait, I don't have my own card."

"So?"

"If I use Julian's card he'll know where I went."

Damien shrugged. "I'll pay."

I stared. "Really?"

"Really."

"With your money?" I grinned. "You'll regret saying that."

Damien sighed dramatically. "I already do. But I'm not so worried, thankfully, your husbands pay me more than well."

Half an hour later we were on the road. Night lights flashed past the windows. Music played softly. And for the first time all week, I actually felt excited.

When we finally arrived, we stepped inside and my legs stopped on their own.

My eyes widened.

Music pulsed through the air, neon lights glowed everywhere, people laughed, the entire place felt alive.

"Damn."

Damien grinned. "Told you."

"This place is a vibe."

"I know." Then he pointed toward another section of the building. "There's a casino too."

My jaw dropped. "A casino?"

"Yep."

A slow smile spread across my face. "Hell yeah."

Damien laughed. "Thought so."

"Let's have fun.”