Chapter 8 Psycho Ex-girlfriend
Celeste-
I signed the contract. Yes, I did, and I didn't read most of it.
I must be crazy. My thoughts spiraled.
I had just agreed to marry a man based off what he said in my past life. What if it was something he thought he heard in passing? Or even worse. False. . It didn't matter anyway, because now I was in, and there was no going back.
The feeling that I'd made a wrong decision twisted in my stomach. But this wasn't just about him anymore. This was about the people who had betrayed me, and the ones who stood by and watched.
The old, obedient Celeste was gone with the wind.
At that moment, the door beeped open. And for a second, I thought Lucien had come back.
But it wasn't him.
She sauntered in like she owned the place. Tall, provocative and a little bit older. She looked like the kind of woman who belonged beside men like Lucien-beautiful in a polished, dangerous way.
"It's been five fucking years, and he still hasn't changed the access code?" she began.
What an entrance.
Her eyes raked over me, like she was here to scrutinize my every detail.
Then she snorted. "So the rumors are true. He's actually marrying the Ashford Heiress." A sharp laugh. "Guess I hit him harder than I thought."
My throat felt dry, but I forced out the words. "Who are you?"
"Bianca Campton. Lucien's ex. Fiancée, actually."
Fiancée? My heart skipped.
Meanwhile, she strolled past me, to the mini-bar where she took out a bottle of red wine and poured herself a glass.
"Funny, I thought I'd find him here, hiding away from the rumors, easy to comfort, distract and seduce. Old habits." She gulped down the wine.
I stiffened. I barely knew Lucien, but the way she spoke about him, like he was something to use and discard-set my blood boiling.
"So... how long have you two been together?" she asked, pouring another glass with infuriating ease.
"A while now."
Why was I answering her?
She scoffed. "Typical Lucien. Meets a woman, rushes her to the altar. He did nearly the same to me. We only dated for two years, and the next he was on a knee. I only agreed that day to save his ego." She chuckled. "He said he'd give me a big wedding, buy our dream house, all while living in this...shoe-box." She laughed like a rabid dog.
"If you rejected him, then why are you here?"
She raised her glass, smug. "Because a man like Lucien needs a woman like me. Because he'll come back. He always does." She walked over to me. "Men like him crave punishment. For him, love equates to punishment. It's the only way to deal with his mommy and daddy issues."
"What?" I blurted blankly.
"So he didn't tell you, Ashford Heiress-"
"Celeste will do." I cut in,
"Ah, Celeste. How adorable. How old are you again?"
"Excuse me?"
"Don't get so worked up," she grinned. "Your amazing skincare is the reason I'm asking."
Now, she was starting to get on my nerves. It was right there, that mocking undertone. So I politely asked her to leave.
"Clearly, Lucien is not at home, Ms. Campton."
Instead, she circled me like a predator. "Leave? Oh, hon. I really don't think you should do that... You know, you remind me of a puppy yapping at a big dog who's seen the world."
My brows were knit in confusion. "Are you threatening me?"
She paused in front of me.
"It's not a threat. I'm simply telling you that I will not hold back because you think you're in his life now," She stated.
Fury throbbed in my veins as I watched her return to the bar. She was audacious and plan rude. The old me would have let her, but I just couldn't stand this madness any longer.
I marched to the bar, grabbed the bottle from her hands and set it down. "I've had enough for a day. Now leave." I gritted my teeth.
She scoffed, tilting her head to the left. "I see you've got some nerve now." In one move, she smashed the bottle against the counter and held up the shard.
My breath caught as I stumbled back, retreating till my back was against a wall. My heart pounded against my chest like a drum. How did this situation even escalate?
Suddenly, she lunged, and I was too frozen to scream or do anything.
"So just because you've got his shirt on, now you think you can easily replace me?!" She screamed, just a few inches away from my face.
But before my eyes could squeeze shut, Lucien appeared.
In a swift motion, his hands clamped around Bianca's wrist, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't test me, Bianca. Drop it."
She laughed, breathless, maniac. "You'll never leave me. You don't her. You need me."
She desperately pressed against him. But he shoved her back so hard she stumbled. It was disgusting seeing her throw herself at him like this.
"That chapter closed five years ago." Lucien's voice was cold as ice. "Now, get out."
Her face cracked for the first time, but she quickly recovered. "Fine, I see how it is." She feigned a smile. "I'll go... Congratulations on your engagement." Her voice turned low and sweet. Odd. "I hope it lasts this time."
Turning to me, she sharply added, "You Ashford Heiress. You don't know what you've just walked into. With that she turned and left.
"Are you alright?" he asked, walking to the mini-bar. The least he could have done was look at me.
"Yes. But you should change your access code," I retorted.
He finally turned, his eyes dragging over me-lingering far too long when he realized I was wearing his shirt. Heat crawled up my neck, and I opened my mouth to explain, to say something, anything, but he cut me off with a low, dismissive, "It's fine."
Without another word, he bent down to pick up the shards, like I wasn't just standing there, shaking like a leaf.
At the same time, I heard him wince, and the next, the crimson red liquid dripped from his palm onto the counter, mixing with the spilled wine.
"Are you-?"
"Stay there," he cut in sharply, holding out a hand to keep me back.
How could someone in pain still be this stubborn?
I stepped closer anyway, refusing to listen. "You're clearly in pain. Let me help you," I insisted.
Quietly, he walked over to the couch and slumped onto it, letting out a small sigh.
"The first aid box is in the top right corner of the cabinet," he murmured, almost in defeat. What was he so afraid of?
The cabinets were immaculate, everything lined up as though no one had ever touched them.
When I came back, blood had already spread across his crisp white shirt-dramatic enough that anyone walking in might think he'd taken a bullet to the chest.
Gently, I cleaned the cut and wrapped a bandage around it. He didn't flinch, not even once, his expression calm and unreadable, as if he was holding everything in at once. When I looked up, he was already watching me, his eyes dark and intent, and something in them made me catch my breath.
"There," I whispered, smoothing the edge of the bandage with my thumb before pulling back. "You're not a superhero. Try using a broom next time."
He said nothing, only stared like he was waiting for me to figure him out. Then he reached for a designer bag and let it drop onto my lap. Inside the bag was a white dress.
"Get dressed," he murmured. "We're going to the courthouse."
Her stared back at him in disbelief. "Really? Your psycho ex-girlfriend just tried to kill me, and this is what you can think of?"
His expression hardened. "I gave you options, yet you stayed. That means you've accepted the terms of the contract-"
"Not before I knew about the crazy ex," I muttered.
His head snapped toward me, eyes burning, not just at me but through me. He wasn't just angry about Bianca. This was something deeper, something that had nothing to do with her at all.
"Don't you dare make this about her!" he snapped. There was something dangerous about those eyes.
"We both had a choice!" His voice boomed, making my chest tighten. "You think I can turn back now? You think I can just walk away?"
He was shouting, raw and furious, every word ripped out of him. Whatever was making him like this? I wondered.
"I can't, Celeste! There's no turning back. Not for me. So tell me, are you with me or not?!"