Chapter 52

Chapter 52
Mona's Point of View

The audacity of him standing there in my house, that too with her around. Vance. Of all people. The very person who had played a role in the mess I was trying so desperately to escape. I stared at him, every fiber of my being burning with confusion and frustration. My fist clenched tighter as I struggled to hold back a slew of emotions. Was I angry at him? At myself? At this whole damn situation?

"What the hell are you doing in my house, Vance?" I couldn't keep my voice steady. It cracked, betraying the mess of emotions swirling inside me. "Why the hell are you here, after everything that happened with Ian? After everything you've done?"

He stood there, as if trying to figure out how to navigate the whirlwind of my wrath. His eyes were dark, but his face remained neutral. Too neutral. The way he stared at Flynn—standing just behind him, clearly waiting for a moment to pounce—had me seething.

Is he… is he interested in her?

The thought alone was enough to make my stomach twist into knots. Flynn, that annoyingly perfect woman, with her clear blue eyes and polished demeanor. The same woman who I couldn’t even stand to look at without feeling a surge of jealousy and disgust. And now Vance? Really?

I snapped my fingers in front of his face, the sharp sound echoing in the tension-filled room. He flinched, his gaze snapping back to me.

“Snap out of it, Vance!” I demanded, my voice sharp enough to cut through the air. "What's going on in that head of yours? You weren't even listening!"

His eyes darted to Flynn again, a subtle shift that didn't escape my notice. But he cleared his throat, regaining his focus.

"Yes, Mona," he said in that calm, rehearsed tone that never seemed to fool me anymore. "Sorry, I was... just trying to figure something out."

A lie. I could tell.

I didn’t have time for his games or his distractions. Flynn was already acting like she had a right to be here. Like she was somehow entitled to be part of this—part of my life, my mess.

I glared at him one last time before turning toward the door.

"You need to leave, Vance. Now," I said, my voice cold, final. “I don’t have time for your nonsense today. And I don't have time to play your little games.”

I grabbed his arm, dragging him with far more strength than I thought I had. Every part of me just wanted to shove him out the door and be done with this ridiculous encounter. But, of course, Flynn had to interrupt again.

“Mona, your phone,” she said, holding it out to me, her voice as fake-sweet as ever.

I glanced at it, the screen flashing with Ian’s name. My pulse spiked in response.

I didn’t need to answer it. I didn’t need to deal with him. Not today. Not now.

But Flynn stood there, practically offering it to me like she thought she had any right to be in the middle of this. Her gaze was soft, but it felt like she was trying to manipulate me. Like she had some kind of power over me—over this situation. I wanted to throw the phone back at her face, but instead, I just grabbed it out of her hands, feeling a rage build in my chest.

“Don’t ever touch my stuff again, Flynn,” I hissed. “Stay the hell out of my business.”

She stepped back, startled by the force in my voice. I felt a momentary satisfaction in seeing her eyes widen with the surprise I wanted her to feel. But that satisfaction was short-lived, because just as I turned to storm outside with Vance in tow, the damn phone slipped from my hand.

It hit the floor with a loud crack, the screen shattering instantly.

Great. Just great.

I looked at Flynn with a look that could melt glass. My temper flared again, and I didn’t even try to stop it.

“You ruined it. You ruined my phone. And now, you’re going to fix it,” I spat.

Flynn opened her mouth as if to respond, but she didn’t get a chance. I was already moving—closer, faster, angrier—until I raised my hand, delivering a hard slap across her cheek. The sound of it rang through the room, leaving a stinging silence in its wake.

Flynn stumbled backward, her face burning red.

And then, just as I was ready to snap back with more venom, I felt a strong grip on my wrist, pulling me backward. Hard.

Vance.

His body was pressed against mine now, his arms like steel around me. It was as if he was trying to keep me from doing something that would get us both into deeper trouble.

I turned to look at him, fury blazing in my chest, but I froze.

His grip tightened on my wrist, and his other hand came around to clutch my waist, pulling me tighter against him. My breath hitched in my throat as I looked up at him, my mind racing.

He was looking at me like he was… protecting me.

But why?

“Mona,” Vance’s voice was low, dangerous, barely a whisper. “That was too far. You need to calm down.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was beyond angry—beyond frustrated.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Vance,” I snapped, trying to yank my arm free, but his hold only tightened. “Let me go.”

His eyes flashed with something darker now. Something that scared me. “No, you need to listen to me for once. You’ve made a mess of this, and I’m not going to let you screw things up more.”

I stopped struggling, caught in the storm of emotions. But then, I saw Flynn.

Her hand was pressed to her cheek, her lips trembling. She was staring at me like I had broken some invisible line between us.

Good.

“I’m done here,” I said, finally forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “You stay away from my house. From my life.”

Vance’s grip loosened just a fraction. His eyes softened, and for a moment, I thought he might let go completely, but then he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “This isn’t over, Mona. Not by a long shot.”

And then he released me, leaving me standing there, torn between anger, confusion, and something that resembled fear.

As I turned to leave, Flynn stepped forward, attempting to intervene. “Mona—”

But I didn’t wait to hear what she had to say.