(Darius' POV)
I was trying to breathe.
The echo of Ayra's words haunted me, each syllable stabbing into my chest like a dull knife.
She had looked at me like I was just another liar, another heartless man who had broken her already bruised heart.
And the worst part?
I couldn't even blame her. Not after what she saw.
Charlotte.
Those pictures and the damned kiss.
"What the hell have I done..."
My voice cracked into the silence of the house, still carrying the faint scent of her perfume.
The same house that had once felt like home the moment Ayra stepped into it... now felt like a graveyard.
Fury surged in me. I grabbed Charlotte.
"This is all your doing, isn't it? You planned everything," I growled.
"Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? You left the door open. And just when you knew Ayra was coming, you kissed me."
Charlotte scoffed. "Oh, sweet Darius. You're just as cute and sweet as I remembered."
"You're insane."
