Chapter 21–Don’t Need You

Tristan’s POV

The basement looked the same as it always did. Like it remembered every silence that had ever settled down here. 

I stood just beyond the reach of the dim bulb, hands in my pockets, staring at the man slumped on the chair behind the bars.

“Three days,” I said quietly, glancing at my wristwatch. “I mean… two days from now, I’ll be getting married. Shame you won’t be there to watch.”

He didn’t respond. He rarely did anymore, just breathed through his broken nose and stared at the floor like it held answers I’d never given. 

Then slowly, he lifted his head. His left eye was still swollen shut from last week. “That’s—” a sharp cough tore through him. “That’s good, Tristan.”

I laughed softly. “Good? Seeing you rot down here feels a lot better than good. And you’ll be here for a very long time. That I promise you.”

“I’m begging you, Tristan,” he said, voice strained but audible. “Just let me go.”

This time, I let out a bitter laugh. “Really? I should let you go? I said, my voice rising. “Funny how you still have the energy to beg after everything you did.”

“Please…”

I didn’t answer. I’d never give him that satisfaction of begging me. 

I lingered a moment longer, letting the silence extend. Being a billionaire was supposed to feel like freedom. That was what the world believed when they saw the headlines. 

They didn’t see the boy who walked out of juvie with nothing but scars and a dark reputation. They did, actually. It just didn’t seem to matter anymore, even though people still talked about it. 

They didn’t see the years I spent building something legitimate after running with men who treated blood like currency before coming clean. 

No one ever saw that version of me. 

And yet here I was. Still cleaning up messes. Still making sure certain ghosts stayed buried. 

The sound of my phone filled the room. I pulled it out of my pocket. 

Daniel. 

I turned away from the bars and answered. “Yes?”

“Boss. We’ve got a problem.” Daniel’s voice was tight. “One of our guys watching the Whitmores said Natasha ran out crying. Got into a cab. They lost her.”

My grip on the phone tightened. “What do you mean they lost her? What sort of incompetent fools did you hire?” My voice rose. “You know the heat on them hasn’t died out, and those fuckers will stop at nothing. Do everything you need to do and find her.”

I didn’t wait for his response. I hung up, turning to the bars. “I have something to deal with right now, and this would probably be the last time you hear from me for a while. Don’t worry. You’ll be fed properly. But leaving here? That isn’t happening.”

I was heading back upstairs when Daniel’s call came in again. “Tell me you’ve found her.”

“Yes. She’s at The annex,” he said. “She’s really drunk right now. Should I take her home?”

I paused on the stairs, jaw tightening. “No. Don’t go close to her. We don’t want her running off again. Just don’t let her leave your sight. I’m on my way.”

I stepped into the living room and found Patricia near the grand windows, arms folded. She hadn’t noticed me. 

“Why are you still up?” I asked, genuine concern slipping into my voice. 

She turned and looked past me, her brows pulling together as though something unseen had stepped into the room with me. “Where are you coming from?”

My expression didn’t change, but my shoulders stiffened. “I asked first. Besides, can’t I tour around my own house?”

Patricia tilted her head, unconvinced. “Can’t sleep. And since when do you need to tour ‘your own house’ at this hour?”

The words landed with quiet accusation. I exhaled slowly. 

“Patricia… that’s not what I meant.” I ran a hand through my hair, softening my tone. “It’s been a long night. Go get some rest.”

She studied me for a beat longer than I liked before nodding once. “Hmm, okay.” 

I watched her go up to her room. I didn’t move until I heard her door click shut. 

The drive to The Annex wasn’t supposed to be far, but the ride felt painfully slow. 

The moment I pulled up outside The Annex, the bass from inside thumped against the windows of the car. Neon lights spilled across the pavement while people moved in and out of the entrance without a care in the world. 

Daniel was already waiting near the entrance. When I came out of the car, he straightened up. 

“Inside,” he said immediately. “At the far end.”

I didn’t answer. I was already moving. 

The bouncer opened the doors the instant he saw me. Music crashed into me at once. The air smelled like smoke, expensive liquor, and wrong decisions. 

My gaze swept through the crowd once, then I saw Natasha at the bar. She wasn’t alone. 

She was sitting on the bar stool with a man that looked like he didn’t belong there, but trying too hard to. The view unsettled me for reasons I just couldn’t explain.

I walked toward them. The closer I got, the clearer the situation became. He didn’t seem to be interested in what Natasha was saying. His eyes swept over her body. He was about to reach for her hand when I said, “Careful, or I might cut off those fingers and feed them to you.”

They both turned their heads to me. His face was drained of color. “Oh shit,” he said. “I didn’t know she was with you. I’m so—”

“Fuck off!” 

He stood up quickly, almost tripping over himself. He bolted like he had just seen a ghost. 

I took the stool next to Natasha, unbuttoning and rolling up my sleeves. My eyes never left her. 

“You’re such a buzzkill,” she said, taking another sip of her drink.

I watched as she set the glass down and raised her hand to my face, gently pushing back the strands of hair that had fallen across my face. She withdrew her hand. “Why are you here? You came to crash my night like you crashed my wedding shopping?”

I remained silent. Now wasn’t the time to say anything. 

“Everyone just seems to be doing things to piss me off,” she continued. “Everyone thinks they know what’s best for me or gets to decide for me.” 

She hiccuped. “Like my father deciding what version of the truth I should know about my mother. Like hiding letters she had sent to me when I was young.”

“Did you know she had sent me a puppy?” Her voice broke. 

“God knows what else she could have sent that my father hid from me. He told me she left. I grew up believing she left. And every time I yearned for her, every time I cried, he would lock me up.”

She didn’t stop. 

“Because of that, Victoria and I grew up resenting each other. She felt like I was on mother’s side. She hated me for it. She took my friends from me. She made sure people never got close to me,” she laughed hysterically. “I wonder what my relationship with Victoria would have been like if we had known the truth.”

She stretched out her glass toward the bartender. He poured her another round. She gulped it down in one go. 

“I found her letters tonight,” her voice cracked completely. “She said maybe hearing from her no longer brings us comfort. But the truth was we never even heard from her at all.”

I sat there, absorbing everything she was saying. My jaw tightened slightly at the way her shoulders shook. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks. Her hazel eyes were red and swollen. 

“My childhood was a lie,” she mumbled, wiping her runny nose with the back of her hand. “It was all a fucking lie. I hope Marcus gets everything he deserves.”

She slid off the stool, unsteady, and stretched her empty glass to the bartender again. I rose up quickly and moved beside her, silently signaling to him. He caught it. 

“That’s enough, Natasha,” I said calmly. “You’ve had more than enough for tonight.”

“No!” She shouted, stepping away from me. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. If I want another drink, I’ll have one.”

“Cari—” I reached for her arm gently, but she jerked away.

“Don’t you dare call me that!” She snapped, cutting me off before I could even finish. “We’re not even married yet and you already think you can control me? Decide what I can and can’t do?”

“Like telling me what wedding dress suits me?” She continued, her voice rising over the music. “Like paying for my damn dress after I told you I wanted to do it myself?”

She paused, her chest heaving. Her eyes were glassy with tears and alcohol. 

“How did you even find me?” she demanded. “I wanted to be away from everyone.”

I kept my voice calm and low. “That’s not important right now. The most important thing is keeping you safe.”

“Safe?” she snorted bitterly. “From what exactly?”

Before I could answer, she spun away from me. I moved quickly, gripping her arm, not tight, just enough. 

“Let go of me!” Natasha yelled, yanking hard against my hold. She turned on me, her eyes wild with pain. Her nails raked across my forearm, leaving sharp, stinging lines. “I said let me go, Tristan.”

Her hand shoved at my chest, but I pulled her closer instead, turning her so her back pressed against my front. She kept struggling, twisting, and scratching at my arms, her breathing uneven with sobs. 

“I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone—”

Her voice faltered. The fight slowly drained out of her body as the tears took over. She stopped clawing at me. Her shoulders shook harder, then weaker, until she finally sagged backward, her back fully leaning against me. Her head fell back against my chest.

I wrapped my arms around her more securely, one hand gently rubbing her upper arm, while the other rested on her waist, holding her steady. 

“Shh… it’s okay,” I murmured against her hair. “I’ve got you.”

She let out one last broken sob, then went almost limp in my arms, her head still resting against my chest as the tension slowly left her body. 

Her breathing evened out, her body growing heavier against mine as the alcohol finally pulled her under. She was drifting off, barely conscious. 

I didn’t wait. I bent down, slid one arm under her knees, and the other behind her back, then lifted her off her feet. She was lighter than I expected. Her head rested on my shoulder as I carried her out of the club, pushing through the crowd. 

The cool night air hit us the moment we stepped outside. Daniel was already waiting by the car. The moment he saw me carrying her, he quickly moved to open the back door. 

“Is she alright, boss? He asked, keeping his voice low. 

I gave him a short nod and carefully lowered Natasha into the backseat. My eyes landed on her feet. They were dirty, bruised, and red. She must’ve run a long distance barefoot. 

She moved slightly, her eyes fluttering open but unfocused. “Where… are we going?” she mumbled, her voice filled with exhaustion. 

I brushed strands of hair away from her face. “Home.”

“No,” she whispered, weakly shaking her head. “I don’t want to go back there.”

I paused for a moment, studying her. “Okay.”

Her head relaxed against the seat as her eyes drifted shut again. 

I closed the door gently and pulled out my phone as I walked to the other side. Daniel started the car. 

I dialed Marcus’ number. He picked up on the second ring. 

“Natasha is with me,” I said, my voice cold and even. “She won’t be coming home tonight.”

Before he could respond, I ended the call and dropped my phone next to me. 

I looked down at Natasha, curled in the backseat, her breathing finally steady.