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Chapter 4: The Man From Last Night

last update publish date: 2026-09-10 05:29:04

CAMILLA.

“Who’s that?” Maya called from behind me, still half-naked and completely unbothered by the fact that the bartender’s cum was probably still drying on the inside of her thigh.

The door swung wider and Julian shoved his way inside. His hair was a mess, eyes red-rimmed, the same shirt he’d been wearing yesterday now wrinkled and half-untucked. He looked like he hadn’t slept.

“I’ve been trying to reach you all day,” he said, voice tight. “Where the hell have you been?”

I crossed my arms, the black dress from last night still clinging to me, the faint scent of sex still trapped in the fabric. “That’s none of your business.”

Maya stepped up beside me, hands on her hips. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s none of your fucking business.”

Julian’s jaw flexed. He ignored her completely and locked eyes with me. “Look, Camilla… I know I hurt you. I’m sorry. What happened yesterday was a mistake.”

The word landed wrong, I felt my lip curl. “Mistake, huh? What kind of mistake was that? She was even fucking squirting.”

His face went pale. “It was just… friendly sex. It won’t happen again.”

Friendly sex. The phrase was so absurd I almost laughed. I could still see Vivienne’s face twisted in pleasure, the way her body had clenched around him, the wet sounds that had filled our bedroom. 

And yet something inside me wanted to believe him. My heart was beating too fast. All the plans, the deposits, the matching monogrammed towels still sitting in boxes at the house. Maybe it really had been a one-time slip. Maybe I could just… move past it. Especially after last night, after the way that stranger had fucked me until I couldn’t remember my own name.

Maya made a sharp sound of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you really believe this bullshit.”

Julian’s head snapped toward her. “Shut up, Maya. I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Yeah, but you were talking to my friend who you cheated on three weeks before your fucking wedding.”

I closed my eyes for a second. The headache from the whiskey and the lack of sleep pulsed behind them. “Maya, please excuse us.”

Julian latched onto the opening. “Yeah. Excuse us.”

Maya’s mouth dropped open. “But Camilla—”

“Just… please.”

She stared at me for a long moment, then threw her hands up. “Fine.” She stomped toward her bedroom, bare feet slapping the floor. 

Over her shoulder she added, “Don’t you dare believe a single word out of his lying ass.”

The bedroom door slammed and silence settled over the living room like a heavy blanket. 

Julian stepped closer. Before I could stop him he pulled me into a hug, arms tight around my back, face buried in my hair. He still smelled like the expensive cologne he always wore, the same one that used to make me weak. Now it just made my stomach twist.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he murmured against my temple. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

I stood stiff in his arms for a few seconds, then slowly let myself soften. 

What was the point of throwing away three years over one mistake? I’d already settled the score, hadn’t I? 

“Promise me,” I said, voice quiet.

“I promise, baby, it won’t happen. Never again.”

He tipped my face up and crashed his mouth onto mine. The kiss was desperate and full of the same urgency he’d never shown me in bed. 

His tongue pushed past my lips and I let it, even as my mind flashed back to another mouth, rougher, more demanding, tasting like whiskey.

When he finally pulled away he was breathing hard. A small, hopeful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got good news for you, though.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“I’m taking you to meet my parents.”

I blinked. “Your parents? I thought you said they were divorced.”

“They are. But I managed to convince them to sit down for dinner with both of us.”

Something warm and stupid fluttered in my chest. It felt like a step forward, like proof that he was serious about fixing this. “Aww. That’s… really nice.” I stepped back, suddenly aware that I was still wearing last night’s dress and probably still smelled like another man. “Let me go get dressed.”

I borrowed a pair of Maya’s jeans and a soft cream sweater that didn’t show the faint bite mark on the side of my neck. 

I washed my face, brushed my teeth with my finger, and dragged a comb through my hair until it looked halfway presentable. When I came back out Julian was waiting by the door, hands in his pockets, looking every bit the apologetic fiancé.

We left Maya’s apartment without another word to her. Outside, the late afternoon sun was already starting to dip. Julian’s car was parked at the curb. He opened the passenger door for me like he used to in the beginning and I slid in. He rounded the hood, got behind the wheel, and pulled into traffic without speaking.

The drive was quiet at first. I watched the scenery change and tried not to think about the way the stranger’s hands had gripped my hips last night, or the way he’d told me to come on his cock like it was an order I couldn’t refuse.

Julian reached over after a while and laced his fingers through mine. “They’re going to love you,” he said. “Especially my dad. He’s… particular, but once he sees how perfect you are for me, he’ll come around.”

I forced a small smile. “I hope so.”

We turned onto a private drive that seemed to go on forever. At the end of it sat a mansion that made my mouth go dry. 

It was the kind of house that didn’t just say money, it screamed old, generational, untouchable wealth. Julian had always been comfortable, but this was another level entirely. I hadn’t realized this was the world he’d come from.

He parked in the circular driveway and killed the engine. “Ready?”

I nodded, even though my stomach had started to twist for reasons I couldn’t name.

He came around and opened my door again. I stepped out onto the gravel, the cream sweater suddenly feeling too thin. Julian took my hand and led me up the wide stone steps. 

He guided me inside.

The foyer was massive, with marble floors, a chandelier that looked like it belonged in a museum and a sweeping staircase that curved up toward a second floor I couldn’t see the end of. 

And standing near the base of those stairs, glass of amber liquid in one hand, was a man.

My eyes widened and my stomach dropped so hard I felt lightheaded.

Julian’s hand settled on the small of my back, proud and possessive.

“Camilla, meet my dad,” he said, smiling like this was the best moment of his life. “Dad, meet my fiancée.”

The man from the club, the man who had bent me over and fucked me until I screamed lifted his gaze, his eyes widening.

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