You Had Me, You Lost Me, You'll Never Find Me novel Chapter 48

He slowly turned his body toward her. The glacial frost on his face had thawed the slightest bit, though his entire aura remained brutally arrogant and domineering.

"Make it quick."

When Ashton played the cold tyrant, he exuded a suffocatingly terrifying presence.

Having not seen him for over half a month, Sylvia felt a distinct sense of alienation. She refused to meet those imperious, aristocratic eyes, simply saying:

"If Hugo ever comes back, you don't need to show him any mercy."

With that, Sylvia nodded at Luke. "Sorry, I've got things to do. I'm taking off."

She brushed past Ashton, catching the faint scent of tobacco, and kept walking without a second glance.

As she walked away, she heard Luke asking him what to do with all the booze.

Ashton's voice was utterly dead. "Trash it."

He sounded completely unbothered. It made sense—he owned a massive nightclub and had seen every degenerate thing under the sun. Today's spectacle was less than nothing to him.

Ever since he sent Finley to drop off those items, Ashton hadn't texted or called once. It seemed that for him, a breakup was a brutal, clean severing of ties, executed without a single shred of hesitation or nostalgia.

The moment Sylvia heard his words, her heart still gave a phantom ache, but she was no longer devastated. She actually felt a flicker of relief—his suffocating grip on her soul was finally peeling away.

Luke jogged after her. "Come on, hang out for a bit before you go! We hired a famous singer tonight. His name is Seven. Have you heard of him?"

Sylvia's steps faltered. Of course she knew Seven. As a teenager, she used to buy his posters. She absolutely adored the raw, gravelly texture of his voice; every song he sang felt like an intimate story being unspooled.

By now, she had reached the bar. Hearing Seven's voice drift through the air, she couldn't help but stop and listen.

Seeing she was hooked, Luke quickly added, "Seven is booked for the entire month! If you like him, you should definitely swing by more often."

Honestly, Seven's booking fee was astronomically high. Reserving him for an entire month cost a literal fortune.

Sylvia stayed just long enough to finish the rest of the song before shaking her head. "I'll pass. I really need to get going."

Luke didn't push it. To be honest, he thought it was a massive tragedy. They had been together for three years, and he had seen firsthand how insanely obsessed Ashton was with her. Yet, in the end, it was completely over in the blink of an eye.

Seeing them interact today—barely exchanging two sentences while Ashton acted completely dead inside—made it blatantly obvious there was absolutely no turning back.

Sylvia's phone buzzed violently in her pocket. It was Julian calling.

Julian had tried calling her earlier, but the club was deafeningly loud. Sylvia retreated to a quieter VIP hallway and picked up.

Julian asked where she was. Sylvia told him she was at The Reign and briefly explained the situation with Hugo. Julian immediately insisted on picking her up.

"It's fine. I can just grab a cab."

Over the phone, Julian's voice was impossibly smooth. "Can't you give me a chance to play the hero?"

His rich, velvety tone instantly conjured an image of his effortless, aristocratic grace.

Sylvia agreed. Their dynamic was currently hovering in a very dangerous, blurred line—more than friends, but not quite lovers. To anyone on the outside, however, they were definitively dating.

"Are you coming back? If you turn around right now, I'll pretend none of this ever happened."

Even when begging, he still sounded like a king issuing a decree.

Sylvia rejected him flawlessly. "I am never looking back for the rest of my life."

With that, she wrenched herself free, snatched her jacket off the floor, and marched out. She headed straight for the restroom. The woman staring back at her in the mirror was flushed, her lips swollen, screaming of messy, volatile passion. Sylvia immediately splashed freezing water on her face.

Her lips still burned with a sharp ache, and a glaring, violently red mark stained her collarbone. Sylvia frantically pulled her collar up to hide it.

Julian's name lit up her screen again. She answered it while speed-walking toward the exit.

Julian stood flawlessly straight outside The Reign, looking completely alien against the gritty, neon backdrop. Directly opposite him, Ashton was leaning against the brick wall. His posture was deceptively lazy, yet aggressively dominant.

When Sylvia stepped out, both men's eyes snapped to her simultaneously.

Sylvia kept her head down, marching straight past Ashton and walking right up to Julian. Julian acted as though Ashton didn't even exist. He grabbed her hand. "You're freezing. Why are you dressed so lightly?"

Sylvia shook her head.

Julian slid her hand directly into his coat pocket. "Did you get everything sorted?"

Sylvia nodded. She was just about to leave when a brutal, mocking voice echoed from behind her. "Moving fast, aren't we? I've got to hand it to you, Sylvia. You're quite the operator."

Ashton stared her down, a cigarette dangling from his lips.