CHAPTER 270: CHAPTER 270 MIRA: BREAKING POINT

‘Bullshit.’ Ashton’s fingers dug into my shoulders. ‘That’s a bullshit excuse.’

‘I’m signing the papers tomorrow,’ I said.

I didn’t know what hurt more—his grip, sharp enough to bruise, or the look on his face.

I’d never been a big fan of alcohol, but tonight, drinking had been the smart choice. At least it dulled the pain.

‘No.’ He refused to let go when I tried to shake him off. ‘You don’t get to end this unilaterally. I get a say. You can’t just toss the ring at me and walk away.’

I gave up struggling and sank into the sofa, suddenly exhausted. ‘Working in Paris is my dream. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I can’t—’

‘Bullshit!’ The word tore out of him, raw and jagged. His usual coolness was gone. He loomed over me, hands pinning me in place, breath hot against my cheeks. ‘You could’ve told me. I’d never have stopped you buying the company. So what if it’s in Paris? That doesn’t mean we’re over. It’s not like you’re moving to fucking Mars. Tell me the real reason.’

‘That IS the reason.’ I looked away.

I’d miscalculated; one bottle of wine wasn’t enough to face Ashton’s razor-edged gaze or the predatory aura rolling off him. Like the first time we’d met, I was acutely aware of the difference between us—not just in size, but in sheer presence.

It wasn’t fear of him hurting me. It was the instinctive knowledge that he could. The same primal alarm that had screamed at me to run when we first met. He’d dialled it back since then, consciously or not, but now it was unleashed again.

He gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes, dark with storm-lit fury. ‘Tell me the truth.’

‘It is the truth.’

His sneer was sharp enough to cut. ‘You think I’m that stupid? You’re ending us over a job you didn’t even bother discussing with me?’

‘Would you have approved?’

‘That’s not the fucking point. The point is you assumed. You made it a fait accompli.’

‘Would it have changed anything?’

‘There you go again.’ His voice dropped to a growl. ‘Assuming. Skipping the whole damn conversation.’

He stood abruptly, fists clenched, pacing like a caged animal.

Watching him, something inside me snapped.

The guilt I’d carried all night twisted into anger—at him.

‘Oh, now you want honesty,’ I said.

‘Is that too much to ask from the woman I planned to spend my life with?’ He stopped just long enough to glare, then resumed pacing, as if stillness was unbearable.

‘Don’t act like you’ve been transparent. Like you’re blameless.’

‘What did I do?’ In one motion, he hauled me up, sat, and dumped me onto his lap.

I squirmed. ‘Let me go.’

‘No.’ His grip was iron. ‘Look at me. What did I do?’

‘Fine. You want the truth?’ Trapped against him, I lashed out. ‘You cut your Paris trip short, missed the wedding fitting, because you flew back to Skyline with another woman.’

‘She’s a—’

‘Don’t interrupt!’ I shoved his chest. ‘She’s a friend, that’s what you were going to say? Do you kiss all your friends in the street? Don’t bother denying it. Yvaine’s boyfriend saw you. Should I call him?’

Ashton’s jaw tightened. ‘There were reasons. It was a mistake, but—’

‘I don’t care about reasons! I care that you omitted it when I asked—repeatedly—if something happened at dinner. You didn’t say a word about her, about the kiss. Sins of omission are deadlier than commission.’

His body heat was stifling. I shoved hard, breaking free.

‘I can explain,’ he said.

‘Too late. I don’t want to hear it.’

Ashton stood slowly. I stepped back, but he didn’t follow. His breathing had evened out, the fury banked. Once again, he was the unshakable CEO.

‘That’s still not the truth,’ he said calmly.

‘What the hell are you—’ I cut myself off. ‘No. Never mind. It’s over. Pick whatever reason makes you feel better—work, jealousy, I don’t care. I’m done.’

Silence. Thick, suffocating.

I grabbed my purse.

‘Where are you going?’ He blocked the door.

‘This is your place. I’ll leave.’

‘You’re right. It is my place.’ His voice had gone cold. He released my wrist. ‘But I’m not heartless enough to throw you out at night. Stay. But by tomorrow afternoon, I want you gone.’

He walked past me, gripped the doorknob.

Then he was gone.