Semua Bab Seducing My Ex Husband : Love is the Trigger: Bab 1 - Bab 8

LilaThe crystal chandelier above the ballroom glitters like a giant diamond. I taste champagne and adrenaline on my tongue, the same mix that got me through the night I ran from the cops at sixteen. Except tonight I’m not running from cops. I’m running toward the one man who can still tear me to pieces me with a look.Ethan Grant stands thirty feet away, his tuxedo cut so sharp it could slice skin. His arm is around her,some blonde heiress whose name I never bothered to learn. She’s laughing at something he says,her head is thrown back, throat exposed like bait. He doesn’t laugh back. He never does in public. His mouth is a pursed together, but I know the combination. I taught it to him.Six months ago I signed my name on a line that ended us. Tonight I’m wearing the lingerie he bought me in Italy,black lace, Italian silk, the set he ripped off me with his teeth the night he proposed. It’s under a backless red gown that cost more than my first car. The fabric clings to my curves like

LilaEthan must have slipped out while I slept, because the sheets beside me are cold. I hate that I notice. I hate that I reach for him anyway.The power’s still out. The only light is the orange flicker dancing over the walls, painting shadows that look like us, tangled, fighting and fucking. My body aches in places I forgot had names. Between my thighs is a sweet, brutal reminder: he was here. He took And I let him.I sit up, sheets pooling at my waist. The lace bra is gone, i guesss it got torn off sometime after round two on the stairs, maybe round three against the hallway mirror. My skin is a map of him, his fingerprints on my hips, bite marks on my collarbone, a bruise blooming where his thumb pressed my throat. I trace one with a fingertip and feel my pulse kick, traitor that it is.The door creaks open and Ethan steps in carrying two mugs. He’s shirtless, sweatpants riding low, the scar on his eyebrow catching the firelight. His knuckles are split. He must have found the hea

LilaI stand at the kitchen island slicing strawberries, the knife flashing red, red, red. My hands don’t shake. Not anymore. Six months ago they would have. Six months ago I would have cut myself just to feel something other than the hollow where his voice used to live.Now I feel everything.The ache between my thighs. The ghost of his teeth on my throat. The faint nausea that started yesterday and hasn’t left.Ethan is upstairs on a call. I heard the low rumble of his voice through the floorboards, Russian syllables, clipped and furious. He thinks I don’t speak enough to follow but udo. Enough to know the word thief,keeps coming up. Enough to know someone is bleeding somewhere and it isn’t us. Yet.I set the knife down. Wipe my hands on the shirt I stole from him again. It smells like cedar and gunpowder now. I like it.The front door opens without a knock.I freeze.The footsteps are heavy and deliberate and they are not Ethan’s.I grab the knife,my heart slamming against my ribs.

LilaThe sky is still very darkwhen we leave the house. I’m in Ethan’s black hoodie, its sleeves are pushed to my elbows, the raven on my wrist still wet from the spray paint. He’s in black cargo pants,black boots and a shoulder holster with two guns. I'm taking in the view and I love it, i smile to myself and giggle a bit, the goal was to seduce him and now I'm shooting at bad guys with him. Take that Celeste.We take the Mustang and the engine snarls awake, gravel crunching under the tires. Ethan drives with one hand on the wheel, the other on my thigh, his thumb stroking the bruise he left there last night. I don’t move it. I need him, he's like drugs.The pier in is a rotting skeleton twenty miles east. We’ll be early. Good. Let them think we’re desperate.We’re not.“Rules,” Ethan says, eyes on the road. “You stay behind me. You see a weapon, you shoot. No hesitation.”I check the Glock he gave me. Safety off. Mag full. “I hesitate, I die. Got it, You're quite the bad Influenc