You Had Me, You Lost Me, You'll Never Find Me novel Chapter 17

Ashton knew deep down she was definitely furious over what had happened that morning.

He had spent the entire second half of the previous night visiting the cemetery, chain-smoking until dawn. He was already in a foul, explosive mood, and when Finley Harris called to report a disturbance at one of his clubs, he hadn't bothered leaving, simply barking orders over the phone to handle the mess.

By the time the sun came up, he was getting ready to drive off when the woman called him. His tone had been downright awful, making her even angrier, and in a moment of sheer frustration, he had blurted out that they should break up.

The moment the words left his mouth, he actually felt a faint, unexpected sense of relief.

Perhaps his tolerance for the woman's influence had finally reached its limit. Her desperate clinging, her sweet allure, her bold defiance, her vibrant energy—it had all vividly ensnared him, stripping away his reckless, untamed nature and leaving him dangerously tethered to her.

Ashton had always been highly defensive against the power Sylvia held over him.

Whether they were in or out of bed, he practiced extreme restraint. Her soft, sweet lips were endlessly intoxicating, but he rarely claimed them, terrified he would lose control of his own addiction. Even limiting their physical intimacy to two or three times a week was a deliberate, agonizing exercise in self-control.

Yet the woman still managed to wrap herself around his life like creeping ivy, making him unconsciously adapt to her constant presence until she was as deeply ingrained in his life as the takeout ribs sitting on the coffee table—an absolute, inescapable constant.

To make matters worse, she had brought up marriage. It didn't sound like a serious proposal; it felt like a calculated test.

It immediately reminded him of the scheming, manipulative women who constantly swarmed around his wealthy father, trying to lock down a status upgrade.

In that moment, a chilling wave of resentment washed over Ashton, though he kept his expression completely blank.

Even knowing she might have just been talking nonsense, he still went and outbid everyone for those matching sapphire rings at the auction the very next day.

He figured if she actually wanted to get married, it wasn't completely off the table.

But then she hit him with, "The thought of your touch disgusts me."

The love bites he had left on her collarbone just the morning prior were still bruised into her luminous skin. She had tangled around him in bed, her stunning eyes completely melted, looking as if he was the absolute center of her entire universe.

She was as captivating as a siren.

And yet, the very next moment, she completely flipped the script and screamed at him.

Not to mention, she actually slapped him across the face.

A man's pride wasn't something a woman could just slap away without consequences.

Any lingering desire Ashton had to explain himself instantly evaporated into ice.

Every word that slipped past his lips after that was laced with venomous cruelty.

He knew she was going to be furious this time, but he never expected her to completely vanish, blocking his calls and texts.

Staring around the obnoxiously empty luxury penthouse, Ashton let out a cold, cynical scoff. "Fine. Let's stay broken up."

He aggressively chucked the takeout ribs straight into the garbage, carelessly tossed the velvet box with the sapphire rings aside, and threw himself onto the bed, turning on the massive flat-screen TV.

Without her, being alone was supposed to feel phenomenal.

A trashy romance drama was playing on the screen, full of toxic, unrequited love tropes. Normally, Sylvia would be fully invested, brutally pinching his arm whenever she got mad at the screen, acting as if he were the cheating scumbag on the television.

Ashton stared blankly at the screen, his long legs stretched out casually.

He didn't have to deal with the woman crowding his space anymore. The bed was enormous, yet she always insisted on plastering herself directly against his side like a soft, clingy kitten.

He laid there for a long time, completely wide awake.

Ashton deliberately deepened his voice.

Sylvia instantly hurled the pillow beside her directly at the door. "Drop the act, Ashton! Do you really think I wouldn't recognize you?"

Hearing the commotion inside, Ashton's dark brows slammed together. "If you know it's me, open the damn door."

The door had zero soundproofing, and he had clearly heard the woman speaking in a sickeningly sweet, soft tone to someone just moments before. A violent surge of irrational anger exploded in Ashton's chest. This woman was a master of wearing two faces. When she wanted to please someone, she used a soft, kitten-like voice that could steal a man's soul, but when she turned cold, she acted like a haughty stray, refusing to even look at him.

And right now, he was the one getting the cold shoulder.

Sylvia had no idea what underhanded methods he had used to track down her location, but she knew it couldn't have been anything good.

"Go away. I'm going to sleep."

Her voice was absolutely glacial, as if dipped in freezing water.

Ashton kept pounding on the door. "Open up. I need to talk to you."

Sylvia stubbornly refused to open it, which only sent Ashton's paranoia into overdrive. Utterly convinced she had a man hiding in the room, he started hammering on the door loud enough to wake the dead.

Seeing that he wasn't going to give up and terrified of waking the other guests, Sylvia reluctantly opened the door and let him in.

She was wearing a flimsy chiffon slip dress that exposed her delicate collarbones and full curves, the fabric highlighting her luminous skin. She glared furiously at Ashton. "What are you screaming about?"

Ashton immediately gripped her soft waist, his predatory gaze sweeping the entire room. He even shoved the bathroom door open to check the shower. Only after confirming there was no man hiding in the room did the murderous tension around his mouth finally ease.

"I was worried you couldn't handle being alone and snuck a guy in. It's good that you didn't."