Chapter 317

I spit the question at him venomously, unable to control the outburst of shocked pain that hits me and bubbles forth, and the strained tone in my voice betraying the instant hurt. Like a stab to the chest as those words filter through my brain and I realise that I’ve been living in a fantasy land and forgetting exactly who this arsehole really is.

A date! A fucking date with a fucking woman, who left part of her wardrobe in his goddamn car.

I’m such a complete and utter blind moron.

It’s like all those niggles of mistrust and disbelief just burst all over my head and pour over me like icy cold water. All the reasons I kept telling myself to keep my guard up. Here they are—staring me in the bloody face as they shatter my soul to pieces.

Last night when he fucked off all night with Santagato and then showed up on the club floor already showered and changed. He had a date … he had a date all night, away from me, with another woman, followed by a shower … which can only mean …

Oh, my God.

There is only one reason you shower before presenting yourself to the woman you are meant to be dating. To hide the stench of a cheap whore on your skin.

I feel sick at the thought of him screwing some harpy and then coming and lying in bed with me, giving me all this bullshit about me being who he wants. All that last night, cuddling up, sweet caresses and gentle words. It’s all fucking shit, nothing but ashes in my mouth now as I realise; he hasn’t cared about pushing for sex because he’s still getting it elsewhere. It’s all just fake and empty promises and exactly what I should have expected.

“Burn it, I don’t give a shit.” Alexi sounds angry, but my seething rage built from aching pain is all-consuming and I turn on him fiercely. Blinded to the fact he has someone here with us by the utter incontrollable heartbreak I’m experiencing.

I fucking believed him when he said he loved me. Even when I told myself I didn’t … this is the proof that I did. This pain, this slicing my soul into tiny shards of sharp glass. The splintering of a heart that never fully recovered from the first time.

“Your fucking WHAT? I hiss at him again, gritting my teeth to try to control the spiralling emotions I cannot contain. The hysteria of a crazy lady growing bigger than I can contain and ripping through my skull at a rate of knots.

This is bigger than anything I have ever felt in my life, and I wonder if this is how betrayal really feels when it’s someone you love. Unleashing the crazy in me as jealousy devours my soul and turns my heart to stone. It cuts deeper than anything he did before; because this time, I stupidly dared to hope and believe. He ripped the rug out from under me.

Alexi stays fixed and motionless, eyes on his driver and shakes his head subtly. Maintaining that uncaring and controlled manner and concealing that he even gives a shit about my outburst. I no longer care about keeping us a secret, I couldn’t give a toss about appearances or who fucking knows about us right now. I’m so volcanic I want the whole world to hear me screaming at this tosspot. I’m physically clawing myself to stop a violent attack on his face.

“You can go,” he commands, and the man scurries off like a scared puppy, pulling the door behind him quickly; because he realises, he just started a shit storm in here. He may not know we are a ‘thing’, but he recognises a woman about to turn murderous psycho time bomb when he sees one.

Alexi doesn’t even turn my way with the click of the door meeting frame.

“Don’t do that. You know how things work, don’t turn this into something it’s not.” He dismisses me with an even, bored tone and moves to put space between us, completely ignoring the red mist I have hovering over my head. My breathing is so insanely heavy I’m almost hyperventilating, and he just turns up the dial with that reaction. I can’t think straight. My head stammering and heart bleeding as I try to grasp a sense of this, stuck to this spot and unable to physically move because I am stone cold stiff with sheer rage.

He lied to me.

He betrayed me.

“What it’s not? Do you mean a fucking date? You had a fucking date, Alexi, while telling me I’m what you want!!” I sound insane, my voice at dog whistle level and hoarse like I’m screeching even though I’m not. He just tenses, hostility overcoming him because I have learnt that you never question Alexi angrily. It enrages that inner psycho in him and puts him on the aggressive defensive even when he is in the wrong. That whole combative trigger of his that brings out his dickhead side.

I don’t fucking care right now; my heart is breaking all over again.

“I had an escort. For appearances. Don’t overreact.” His tone is tight, and I can tell it’s through gritted teeth because he is trying to keep his temper under control and not let this escalate. He walks to the drinks cabinet and fusses with glasses to pour himself a drink, giving himself a focus that’s not me, and I wonder if this is his way of trying to curb an outburst. I, on the other hand, want to poke and jam sticks in that twat of a bear and get some goddamn straight answers. My heart’s pounding so hard out of my chest it’s actually painful. I feel like you could see it thumping out of my ribs.

“Did you fuck her? Before coming home to me.” It’s almost a wail, but enough venom that you really cannot tell if its rage or devastation. I’m trembling all over, legs weakening as my limbs start to sag. My eyes stinging with tears as they build up, but I won’t let myself fall apart over this dickhead of a man. I should have known.

I should have bloody known I could never trust him.

“No. Don’t be stupid. You’re overreacting; use your head, Cam.” Alexi is pissed at me being pissed at him. Lord of not communicating and shutting down on me, expecting me to just accept his explanation and be done with it. Not even a fucking sorry. Just his word is law and I’m in the wrong for being affected by it.

How fucking dare he.

“I don’t believe you. You kept it from me, you showered before coming near me. Why else would you do that if you hadn’t fucked her? So I wouldn’t smell her?” I’m losing the battle against my own tears and my eyes are filling with warm fluid, blurring my vision. My pulse feels like its throbbing through every inch of my skin. There’re horrible skin crawling tingles covering me from head to foot, like ants running all over, only their legs are as sharp as razor blades. It’s physical pain, every inch of me.

“Because I stank of smoke, booze and cheap perfume from Santagato’s strip club. I hate smelling that way, so I showered. Big fucking deal.” A shrug, a casual toss of a glance at me before he downs his drink and sets up another. Adding booze to the problem. Acting distant, hostile and domineering.

I remember him saying he uses alcohol to self-medicate and I wonder what it’s doing for him now? Calming, stopping him blowing his shit at me? Or just helping him lie and evade me so I don’t see the truth?

“You’re a liar. The only way you could stink of cheap perfume is by having physical contact with the whore wearing it. To think I actually believed you would not touch another woman … ha fucking ha! I should have known that the lack of pushing for sex was a sign you were getting it elsewhere. You don’t change. I hope she’s worth it.”

I have reached that level of shouting where I’m sure everyone on this floor can hear me, and the angrier I get, the more controlled and calm he seems to get. Alexi is turning inwards. All that anger and hostility is being clung onto and pushed down to appear indifferent to me and freezing me out.

Classic fucking Alexi.

Leopard never changes its spots. Sadly, for me, it’s all the proof I need that he will always be an arsehole incapable of being what I need.

“It’s a strip club!! Of course, women pushed themselves up against me, it’s what he pays them to do. Doesn’t mean I did anything about it.” His tone is frosty, to say the least. Eyes boring into me across the room like knives with a backwards scowl and yet I cannot read him at all anymore. All his tells are gone, his manner cold and his eyes so stormy grey now I lose my courage and look away. That tremor of fear in me when connecting to an older version of him and all my faith, hopes and dreams shatter to the floor.

The energy in the room bubbling between us as two hotheads take different approaches to be raging mad at each other. I’m not him, I cannot cool my jets when faced with a pain that could kill me. I want to rip his stupid fat head off.

“Sure … right … the man who couldn’t help himself from having a new whore every night he was here, but if it was me and I let some man paw at me, you would rip his throat out. It’s me, so I’m overreacting. I’m in the wrong for you being a cheating fucktard who can’t keep his hands to himself!” It’s a mess of torn words from a raw, strained throat, mixed with a waterfall of unshed tears as I try to hold them in.

I never knew something could hurt like this.

“I have self-control, I’m not a dog who has to bone everything that tries to give me an erection. I also haven’t cheated on you. I told you I wouldn’t be with another woman and I meant it.” Simmering scowl, he is losing his cool even though he is trying. The voice raspier as he matches my more laboured breathing.

“I don’t believe you. It’s what you do. You cannot help yourself from being a complete prick. Is this why you don’t push me for sex … because you are getting it on tap anyway? ANSWER ME!!”

I erupt. True psychotic scream at him, a release of so much pressure and the tears burst forth.

“Jesus Christ.” Alexi glares at me furiously, finally snapping that mask in half at my sudden savage explosion.

“No, London. I am not pushing you for sex because you don’t want me to! I am trying to establish trust and it’s obvious that’s not working if this is anything to go by.”

“Why should I trust you? All you have ever done is use sex and women to hurt me and now this … you left me here after treating me like shit to go spend a night and do God knows what with some slapper you probably took from downstairs. You don’t care about me, you never did.”

That little flash of something in his eye hits me like a thunderbolt, I catch it even though It’s so fleeting I almost miss it through blurry vision, and I realise I’m right. He did take one of the whores from this very club, right under my fucking nose. That little tiny hesitation and the way he turns his back on me to hide it was a tell. I hit the nail on the head in grand fashion.

“Oh, my God!! You are a wanker!!” I scream it at him again and he spins to face me like the scary crazy devil he can be. That aggressive asshole from Miami who yelled in my face and called me a whore.

“You know what … you’re right. She was from the club, not that it matters because NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED!! Fuck THIS … fuck US … fuck IT! Go tantrum elsewhere as I really cannot handle this bullshit with you. I am not lying to you and I have done nothing wrong. Last thing I need is a jealous psycho act because I dared to take some other female out to dinner to cover what we have going on. If you can’t see that then get out of my fucking face. I can do no right with you.”

“You are a fucking cunt of epic proportions, you know that? Well, you can go piss off and screw whatever tramp you want. I’m not stupid enough to cling on like some sad Hoe-Anne for the scraps you throw my way. I won’t let you use other women against me ever again, or mess with my head, twisting everything so I’m the one in the wrong. Narcissistic prick!” I break into a tirade of crazy ranting, yelling at him, tears breaking loose all over my face and down my neck with the sheer volume, and hating myself for lowering myself to use the C word. Alexi stiffens, grits his teeth and clenches his jaw so it squares off devilishly, and goes back to pouring his amber liquid and then drinks it in a jerky, angry motion, as though to blank me out. He doesn’t even look my way. Just shakes his head and refuses to engage anymore.

“Wanker.”

Completely blanks me, stares at the wall and blocks me out.

It’s all I need to flip that switch. I storm past him, pushing him bodily from behind as hard as I can and with all my might. I want to physically hurt him. Both palms on his shoulder blades so he falls forward into the cabinet with a slight thud and the glass bottles and such clink while something falls over and pours everywhere. He uses his free hand to brace himself against the wall to stop himself tumbling over. It’s a shock to him as he didn’t see it coming but I have not one single regret. I only wish I was stronger and could have pushed him through the bloody wall.

I don’t stop for his reaction to my assault, because I don’t care if he chases me down and fucking spanks me black and blue. I yank open the office door and literally storm towards the lift, in a cloud of black hatred and hell hath no fury scowl on my tear-stained face.

We are done. It’s over. I hate him.

“Camilla?” Mico’s voice follows me.

“Don’t! Leave me alone. Go tell him if he has any sense, he will do the fucking same.” I snap and stab the button beside the closed door and will it to appear, not wanting to turn and look his way. I can feel eyes on me, and I know the difference between Alexi and Mico by sensation alone. Alexi is in the office glaring at me from his position, letting me storm off to blow out no doubt.

Mico is keeping his distance while my back is to him and thankfully the door opens immediately. Mico follows quickly and stops it shutting as I stand inside, shaking with rage and tears pouring down my cheeks once more. Makeup tinted splashes landing on my dress and I just stare at them.

“What’s happened?” He looks completely alarmed, eyes wide and furrowed concern etched on his face. For a moment guilt gnaws at me for yelling at him. Mico hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Ask that wanker or maybe his fucking date.” I slap Mico’s hand away, despite my moment of regret, as he stops the door from closing, again igniting my temper. He instantly goes from a look of concern to a look of ‘ahh’ in about two seconds flat. Registering why I might suddenly flip my shit after the cosiness of a few minutes ago.

“It wasn’t like that. He’s crazy about you … you’re taking this the …” He doesn’t get to finish as the doors close on him, cutting him off thankfully, and I’m whisked downstairs by the magic of modern technology. Curling myself up in my arms and trying to breathe through snotty sobs while stopping myself having simultaneous traumatic aneurisms and a major heart attack.

I literally cannot breathe.