Vivie had endured many things since coming into Ashton's world—his coldness, his distance, his refusal to acknowledge what was brewing between them. But nothing had prepared her for this.

For the humiliation.

For the sheer agony of standing there, watching Ashton's ex smirk at her, belittle her, dismiss her as though she were nothing more than a speck of dust under her designer heels.

"You don’t belong here," the woman said, voice laced with venomous amusement. She leaned back against the plush couch in Ashton's study, one leg draped elegantly over the other. Her manicured nails tapped against the armrest as she gave Vivie a slow, assessing glance. "You must know that, right? This world? It’s not for little girls playing house."

Vivie swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to fight back, to not let this woman see how much her words stung. But before she could summon the strength to reply, Ashton’s ex leaned in with a cruel smile.

"Tell me, darling, what exactly do you do here?" she continued. "Besides fetching drinks, of course."

Vivie clenched her fists.

The woman chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. "Oh, I know. You sit around waiting for him, don’t you? Like a little pet, desperate for scraps of attention. How pathetic."

Vivie sucked in a sharp breath. The words hit harder than they should have because deep down, they weren’t entirely wrong. She had been waiting for Ashton. Waiting for something that might never come.

Before she could respond, Ashton’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"That’s enough."

His tone was sharp, edged with something dangerous. It was the first time he had spoken since the woman had started her tirade, and the shift in the room was immediate. The air grew thick with tension as Ashton rose from his seat, his dark gaze locked onto his ex with unmistakable warning.

Vivie’s breath hitched. He had never defended her before. Never interfered when others spoke down to her. But now, his presence alone was a shield, an unspoken declaration that he would not tolerate this.

His ex, however, merely arched a brow. "Oh, Ashton," she purred, feigning innocence. "I was only stating the truth."

"You don’t speak to her like that." His voice was steel, unyielding. "Ever."

The woman’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered, offering him a slow smile. "So protective, all of a sudden. How interesting."

Ashton ignored her, turning to Vivie. His dark eyes softened—just a little—but it was enough. Enough to make her stomach twist, to make her want to believe that he truly cared.

But the damage was already done.

She pushed past them both, walking out of the room before either of them could see the tears burning in her eyes.

The apology came later that night.

Ashton found her in the bedroom, staring out the window into the dark night. His footsteps were quiet, but she felt his presence the moment he stepped inside.

"Vivie." His voice was lower now, stripped of its usual coldness. "I shouldn't have let her speak to you like that."

She didn’t turn around. "But you did."

A heavy silence stretched between them. She could feel his frustration, his struggle to find the right words. But it was too late. The damage had already been done.

"I won’t let it happen again," he finally said.

She let out a bitter laugh. "That’s the thing, Ashton. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place."

His jaw tightened. He had no defense. No excuses. Just silence.

Vivie exhaled shakily. "I don’t forgive you."

The words lingered in the air between them, sharp and unrelenting. She expected him to walk away. To retreat like he always did.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he stepped closer.

The shift in the atmosphere was palpable, charged with something dark and desperate. When she finally turned to face him, his eyes were unreadable—something raw lurking beneath the surface.

And then, in an instant, he was on her.

His lips crashed against hers, rough and unrelenting, stealing the breath from her lungs. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, as if he needed to feel every inch of her against his skin.

Vivie gasped into the kiss, her mind spinning, her heart pounding so hard it hurt. She should have pushed him away, should have resisted. But she didn’t.

Because for all the pain, all the heartbreak, she still wanted him. Wanted him in a way that was both beautiful and devastating.

His mouth was hot, desperate, claiming her in a way that left no room for doubt. This was no calculated move, no strategic game—this was pure, unfiltered need.

He bit her lower lip, eliciting a soft moan from her, and something in him snapped. He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed, pressing her down beneath him as his lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, down the column of her throat.

"You drive me insane," he murmured against her skin, his voice hoarse. "I shouldn’t want you like this."

Vivie shivered, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Then don’t."

But they both knew it was a lie.

Ashton growled low in his throat, his grip tightening on her hips as he devoured her. His kisses turned bruising, his hands greedy as they explored, igniting something deep within her that she had never felt before.

For once, he wasn’t holding back.

For once, he wasn’t pushing her away.

And Vivie knew—this night would change everything.