This Isn't About Him Novels & Stories

His expression darkened slightly, but not in anger at me, more like restraint, like he was trying very hard not to let something explode between us. “That is not what she is,” he said carefully. “And you know it.” “Oh, I know it,” I replied immediately, voice sharpening again. “I know exactly what she is doing.” The silence that followed stretched just enough to feel heavy. Then he exhaled slowly. “This is not about her,” he said. I raised a brow. “It is not?” “No,” he replied firmly. “It is about your reaction.” That made me pause for half a second, just long enough for something else to flare inside me again.

Nothing about his look tells me this is a good thing. ##########

My husband, Lucien Moretti, had some last-minute trouble at the docks to deal with, so I had to attend the underground auction alone. I didn't expect to run into my ex, Damon Vesper—the man I was supposed to marry five years ago. The man who chose the woman who put my mother in a coma over me. The moment I raised my paddle for my mother's emerald brooch, he raised his against mine. The room laughed, whispered, sneered. They thought I was the same desperate fool chasing a man who'd never loved me. But I wasn't there for him. I was there for the truth—the truth hidden inside that brooch. The truth that would expose the accident that destroyed my family as the murder it always was. And when his

His eyes were open but distant, like he was replaying something he couldn’t stop. “Say it,” I said. He frowned slightly. “Say what?” “What you’re not saying.” A quiet, humorless laugh left him. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” “No.” He shook his head slightly. "She won’t stop,” he said after a moment. “That’s the part you’re missing.” “I’m not missing it.” “You are, because you think this is about one article. It’s not.” “Then what is it about?”

“You don’t need to know him.” Confusion washed over me. “What does that mean?” He leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair. “It means this isn’t about you,” he said. “It’s about me.” My stomach twisted. “So I’m just… collateral damage?” The words came out sharper than I intended. Adrian’s gaze snapped to mine instantly. “No.” The force in his voice startled me. “No,” he repeated softer. “That’s not what this is.” I stared at him. “Then what is it?”

Nothing else should matter right now. Just me and him.

Since her return from abroad, the two of them had been inseparable. I had no desire to see Charles, much less their sickening displays of affection. They were like animals in heat. Charles appeared just as I turned to leave, and his voice was heavy with displeasure. “Are you following me?” It was not entirely unreasonable for him to think so. I had followed him for seven years through high school and university. I would think the same too if I were him. “Charles, narcissism is an illness. You should have it treated.” I shoved my medical report into my bag and tried to leave.

He didn’t need to. Because this time… It wasn’t about what he said. It was about what he would do next.

"Why wouldn't I want to?" Juno stopped at a window overlooking the fog-wrapped grounds. "Because of him. Because Silas looks at you like you're the reason he's still here. Because part of you, the part that remembers things you shouldn't remember, that dreams about fires, mirrors and a name that isn't yours knows you belong here." "I don't—"

"Or slow you down which seems more accurate given your track record" "I'm running out of patience, get to the point" "Fine. No one wants to be involved in this senseless fight anymore and we want you to end it, now. I know you're the real Alpha, not Blaze. He's good but in that Tournament you had to be f**king spectacular. You need to take a stand and find your place. We need you" "Not interested" I tell him walking away. "You have a problem, take it up with Blaze, this is none of my business"