Chapter 130 130
“I truly believed you were different,” Damien said, his voice eerily level. “But everything you showed me was nothing more than a performance.”
He let out a dry, mocking click of his tongue. “You claim to love your brother, yet behind his back you crawl into his father’s bed.”
Jacqueline’s jaw tightened. She closed her eyes for a fleeting second and exhaled slowly, forcing the storm inside her to settle.
“Why are you so worked up?” she asked, a faint, deliberate smile curving her lips as she looked up at him through wide, luminous eyes. “Could it be that you’re… interested in me?”
His teeth ground together, fury simmering beneath the surface. Her flawless composure her effortless act only fed his rage. He stepped closer, shrinking the space between them until barely an inch separated their bodies.
“You make me sick,” he muttered, the words dripping with contempt.
Something inside her cracked, but the smile did not falter. His insult landed like a savage blow to her stomach.
“And who are you to pass judgment on me?” she shot back, her voice sharp as acid, mirroring his own venom.
He had ignored her existence more times than she could count. Now suddenly he cared? What had twisted inside him?
Though his towering frame loomed over her, intimidating and suffocating, she held her ground, staring back without flinching.
“What was that little performance in the elevator?” he demanded. “All those pathetic speeches about life what were you trying to prove?”
Damien clasped his hands behind his back, restraining himself. He had already seen the faint imprint his grip left on her wrist earlier, though he hadn’t even realized he’d held her that tightly.
“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice quieter but steady. “Why can’t you just go back to ignoring me like you always do?”
A bitter laugh escaped him. “Or maybe you were trying to reel me in the way you reeled Julien in. Why else would a respectable man stoop to sleeping with his stepdaughter?”
“Fk you!” she spat, attempting to push past him.
He blocked her path again, this time bracing his palm against the wall beside her head, trapping her.
“So that’s what you wanted?” he sneered. “To fk me too? I never imagined you were this much of a wh”
The crack of her slap cut him off.
She had put every ounce of strength into it, yet his head didn’t even turn. He remained perfectly still.
“You’re the whore,” she hissed, tears blurring her vision. “You’re a filthy man-whore. An asshole.”
She shoved at his chest, but it was like pushing against stone. He didn’t budge.
“I feel sorry for your brother,” he said coldly. “He doesn’t deserve a sister like you.”
“And I feel sorry for you,” she fired back, her voice trembling but relentless. “I’m glad the woman you loved left you. You never deserved her.”
In a flash, his hand clamped around her jaw, forcing her to look at him.
“Shut. Up.” The words came out in a dangerous snarl that made her heart leap in fear.
For the briefest moment, she thought she saw his eyes flash gold but the illusion vanished as quickly as it appeared.
“Why?” she whispered, lips trembling into a brittle smile. “The truth always hurts.”
Her words struck him with brutal precision, reopening wounds he had never allowed to heal.
“Does it sting?” she pressed. “She left because this—this is who you really are”
His hand smothered her mouth, silencing her, but her eyes continued to burn into him.
“So I was right,” he spat. “You’re sleeping with your stepfather.”
“I am,” she shot back once he released her. “What are you going to do about it?”
His jaw flexed.
“Now I understand why you were always hovering around me,” he rasped. “You wanted me too, didn’t you? Just another toy to play with?”
Without warning, his arm snaked around her waist and yanked her flush against him.
Her eyes flew wide. She struggled, pushing at him, clawing at his arm, but it was useless. His strength dwarfed hers. Panic surged through her veins; she couldn’t even scream.
She shook her head frantically as the blood drained from her face. Her breathing turned shallow, uneven. Her entire body trembled uncontrollably.
Her hands raked down his neck and shoulders, nails biting into his skin, nearly drawing blood. With a low growl, he flung her away.
She collided with the wall, barely catching herself before collapsing to the floor.
“I’m not interested in sluts like you,” he sneered.
Then he stormed out, slamming the door so violently the walls seemed to shudder.
Jacqueline slowly slid down to the floor, drawing in shaky breaths, fighting to steady herself.
He was nothing to her. No one. So why did his words cut so deep?
Who had given him the right to judge her? To interrogate her? To wound her like this?
Her back already throbbed with bruises, and now the ache in her chest threatened to suffocate her.
Something warm trailed down her cheek. She touched it.
Tears.
Why was she crying? He had made her cry.
Now she understood why he had ignored her before because somewhere, he knew exactly what kind of cruel, broken man he was.
“I hate him,” she whispered fiercely.
She pulled her knees to her chest and began to sob like a child, repeating over and over how much she despised him, how awful he was.
But no matter how long she sat there, the pain refused to ease.
The door creaked open again.
She flinched violently, eyes wide with fear, terrified he had returned to tear her apart once more but it was only the janitor, staring at her in shock.
“What are you doing in here?” the man asked.
Silently, Jacqueline gathered her fallen books and walked past him. She wiped her cheeks as she made her way to the parking lot, where Mr. Loïc was waiting.
She slipped into the car without a word. The vehicle pulled away from the university grounds.
She hadn’t told her friends she was leaving, so she quickly sent a message to their group chat.
Was feeling sick, so I’m going home.
She set her phone aside and stared out the window, watching the world blur past.
“I’m strong,” she murmured to herself, as if saying it enough times might make it true.