The Broken-hearted She And The Icy He

Chapter 33 You Don’t Get to Call Me Yours Anymore

But as the car door swung open, John got a clear look at his face. The rich kid from the wealthiest family. When had Lily gotten close to him? How dare she flirt with another man behind my back?

Lily was genuinely excited–tomorrow, she’d be voicing for “Born Defiant.”

She hummed a cheerful tune as she stepped out of the elevator. Just as she swiped her key card and opened the hotel room door, a sharp pain suddenly shot through her back. John had pounced like a leopard, slamming her hard against the wall.

“John, what the heck is wrong with you again? Let go of me!”

She had to get up early tomorrow; the last thing she wanted was to deal with one of his tantrums.

She pushed at him, trying to shove him away with all her strength.

But before she could get him off her, his lips came crashing down on hers–furious, burning with rage.

She loathed being tangled up with an ex.

Filled with fury, she used every ounce of strength to push, bite, and kick him.

But the difference in physical strength between a man and a woman was too great. The harder she fought, the more unhinged he became.

He clutched her waist like a beast breaking free from centuries of chains; his kisses grew hotter, wilder- like he wanted to melt her flesh and devour her whole.

“How dare you let Ivan kiss you? Lily, you’re my woman; how dare you let another man touch you?”

His kisses trailed lower in a frenzy, like he was about to sink his teeth into her neck and snap it.

“If you see Ivan again, I swear–I’ll kill him!”

“You’re insane!”

could I

her to her core. She

live and die as strangers. A proper ex should be like a corpse–gone and buried —not crawling out of the grave whenever they please! I’ve got nothing going on with Ivan; but even if I did, you’re my ex. It’s none of your damn business! John, whether I kiss someone or sleep with someone, it’s not your place

“Lily!”

word “breakup”

1/3

stand the thought of her drawing that line between them;

the cool, rational control he once prided himself on. He didn’t want to hear another cutting word from her mouth; all he wanted now was to make her understand

whose woman she was.

crashing back down on

inch, as if trying to drag her with him into an endless mountain of

long, strong fingers gripped her collar and tore it open

get the heck

off; the helpless

her entirely–when his phone rang, piercing through the haze of rage and

was a call from

Yvonne had been at Elsa’s

and Elsa had likely guessed

their family; of course

the screen,

the phone rang

genuinely cared about. What if something had really happened? After hesitating

nightclub, dancing—and that several men were

ended, she sent him

in a crowd, dressed in a fiery red spaghetti–strap

she wore heavy makeup, bold red lips, and her every