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Chapter_223
Whitney’s heart was still pounding as the memory of Ludwik’s voice echoed in her mind, each word a jagged shard in her chest. The sheer audacity of him—demanding, cold, entitled—left her breathless. How dare he think that just because they had once shared vows, he still had a say in her life?
She clenched her fists as the car rolled through the city, her reflection flickering in the window like a ghost of the woman she used to be. Ludwik hadn’t just questioned her choices—he had mocked them. Mocked her. But the worst part wasn’t his arrogance.
It was the realization that maybe—just maybe—he had never truly loved her at all.
Not in the way she had loved him. Not with her whole, shattered heart.
He had always been more concerned with control, with appearances, with keeping the world tightly bound to his own narrative. His accusations against Bryce—calling him a manipulator, a schemer—reeked of projection. Was it jealousy? Possessiveness? Or just the fear that someone else might love her better than he ever did?
She exhaled shakily, grounding herself in the silence beside Bryce.
No. She wouldn’t go back. Not to that. Not to him.
Beside her, Bryce seemed relaxed, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. Too relaxed. His charm, so often a comfort, now felt like a shield she couldn’t quite see behind.
When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter than she expected. “Did you really not bring me to that shop to get under Ludwik’s skin?”
Bryce turned to glance at her, a soft smile curving his lips. “Of course not. What did you think?” His tone was light, almost teasing. “That I’d go to that kind of effort just to ruffle his feathers? I’m not that immature, Whitney.”
She looked away, lips pressed together.
Maybe he wasn’t immature. But was he honest?
She wanted to trust him—had to, really. He’d stepped in when she needed someone, offered her shelter in the storm Ludwik had unleashed. But doubt, like a hairline crack in glass, had started to spread.
Still, she nodded. “Right. I believe you.”
But belief was not the same as certainty.
As the car slipped deeper into the city, away from the boutique and the ghost of the man she had once loved, a shadow settled over her thoughts. Ludwik’s rage hadn’t felt like a momentary flare of jealousy—it had felt calculated, cold, dangerous.
She couldn’t afford to underestimate him. Not anymore.
Meanwhile, Back at the Boutique…
The clink of a wine glass was the only sound that dared interrupt the tension lingering in the boutique.
Ludwik stood alone now, his back to the room, his eyes fixed on the spot where Whitney’s car had disappeared. The stem of the glass creaked in his grip, the pressure from his hand threatening to snap it.
She was slipping through his fingers.
No—she had slipped.
And the sight of her with him, laughing, pretending, protecting something that should have belonged to Ludwik—it twisted something deep inside him. The child she carried. His child. Being claimed by another man.
His jaw tightened.
He pulled out his phone with methodical precision, scrolling to a number marked only Felix.
“Set something up,” he said, his voice low and lethal. “A special engagement gift for Bryce.”
There was a pause, then a cool acknowledgment on the other end.
He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.
Plans had already begun to form in the cold, precise corridors of his mind. Whitney might have walked away from him, but she would soon learn—actions had consequences.
He would not lose. Not to her defiance. Not to Bryce’s smirk. Not to the lie they were trying to build.
His gaze darkened, the city lights glinting in his eyes like sparks off a blade.
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
