Better Late, But Never His Again novel Chapter 14

"Julian, I'm the one who let you down all those years ago..."

Julian patted her back gently. "We both had our struggles back then. It's in the past. Let's not bring it up."

They held each other as they walked into the ballroom.

Yet, Julian's eyes kept involuntarily drifting toward the deep end of the VIP corridor.

Where did Hazel go? Did she really go off alone with Marcus Thornton? She had absolutely no idea who she was messing with.

He frowned deeply, an inexplicable wave of agitation clawing at his insides.

...

Meanwhile, Hazel had been led by Marcus into a private VIP lounge.

The heavy doors clicked shut behind them, instantly cutting off all the noise from the party outside.

The room was pin-drop silent, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning. The decor was understated but reeked of extreme wealth, every single detail reflecting the owner's elite status.

Marcus walked over to a leather armchair and sat down with a lazy, relaxed grace.

He leaned back, crossing his long legs. His deep eyes looked almost bored, yet he exuded a suffocating, domineering aura that made him look down on the entire world.

His jaw tightened slightly. He watched her, a faint smirk playing on his lips, waiting in complete silence for her to speak.

Hazel's heart hammered against her ribs. Looking at him, an image of another man flashed through her mind.

Zachary Ward.

They looked way too similar. They were practically carved from the exact same mold.

But they were fundamentally different. One was cold as ice, and the other hid daggers behind a charming smile.

From their social status down to their core personalities, they were two people who shouldn't even exist in the same universe.

But if they really were two different people, why were their faces identical?

A reckless idea suddenly sparked in Hazel's mind.

She swallowed hard and finally spoke.

Hazel struggled wildly, but it was useless. It was in this moment that she truly understood the sheer ruthlessness of the man in front of her. His cruelty wasn't an act; it was bred into his very bones.

Marcus stood up and walked over, towering over her.

He leaned in close, his eyes so cold it was paralyzing.

"Are you playing with me, Hazel?"

Hazel's throat went dry, cold sweat dripping down her back. "I'm not..."

"Do you remember what I said before we walked in here?"

Marcus straightened up, looking down at her like a god judging a mortal.

The smile was back on his lips, even wider than before, but not a shred of warmth reached his eyes. It was a purely predatory grin.

Staring at that smile, Hazel's mind buzzed with white noise as her heart pounded against her ribs.

Had she placed the wrong bet?