Chapter 7: Last I checked…
1089 Words
“What’s going on here?” Ryan’s voice sliced through the air, cold and sharp.
Charlotte stiffened, feeling the weight of his words as if they’d struck her physically.
Around them, the muted clatter of dishes and distant chatter in the restaurant faded. Her pulse quickened.
She turned to face him, forcing a calm expression despite the tension coiling in her chest. “I was just catching up with an old friend,” she said, her voice steady but firm.
Ryan’s gaze flicked to Julian, his jaw tightening. “An old friend?” he repeated, the words laced with unmistakable disdain.
Julian didn’t miss the edge in Ryan’s tone. “That’s right,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of challenge. “We go way back, don’t we, Charlotte?”
Charlotte shot Julian a warning glance, silently begging him to stop. But he seemed unfazed, his attention fixed on Ryan.
Ryan stepped forward, his posture imposing. “Well, whatever it is you are to her,” he said bluntly, “I’d like some privacy with my wife.”
The word ‘wife’ landed like a punch, and for a moment, Julian faltered, his jaw tightening.
“Of course,” Julian said, his tone biting. “Wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Julian…,” Charlotte started, but he held up a hand, cutting her off.
“No need, Charlotte,” he said, his expression hardening. “Take care of yourself.”
He turned and walked away, his shoulders stiff, and Charlotte’s heart twisted as she watched him leave.
She felt a pang of guilt but quickly buried it.
Ryan stood silently, his gaze still fixed on her.
“Let’s go,” he said curtly.
Charlotte hesitated but nodded, walking to his side. Together, they exited the restaurant, the tension between them palpable.
**********
The drive back to the mansion was suffocatingly quiet.
Charlotte stared out the window, her mind racing.
Ryan hadn’t said a word since they’d left, but his earlier actions replayed in her head. ‘Can I have some privacy with my wife, please?’ The words were territorial, unnecessary.
Why had she let Ryan dismiss Julian like that?
Was she still angry with Julian, or was it something else? The thought churned uneasily in her stomach.
She stole a glance at Ryan, but his face was unreadable. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw set.
The car jerked slightly as they pulled up to the mansion. Ryan was already out of the car, waiting for her to follow.
“Oh… we’re here,” Charlotte murmured awkwardly as she stepped out, trying to lighten the mood.
Ryan didn’t respond.
Inside, Mara appeared briefly in the living room, offering them both a curious glance. Ryan ignored her, turning to Charlotte.
“Meet me in the room. Immediately,” he said, his voice firm. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
Mara’s eyebrows shot up at his tone, her surprise evident. Charlotte blinked but quickly nodded.
“Okay,” she said, exchanging a quick glance with Mara before following him upstairs.
The bedroom door clicked shut behind her, and Ryan turned, his expression thunderous.
“It’s one in the morning,” he began, his voice low but taut with anger. “What were you thinking, leaving the mansion without permission? And at this hour?”
Charlotte bristled, her earlier guilt quickly giving way to irritation. “Permission?” she repeated, crossing her arms. “Last I checked, there’s nothing real between us. You said it yourself, Ryan. So why do I need your permission to go out?”
Ryan’s jaw clenched, his hands fisting at his sides. “Don’t twist my words,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you out there? And don’t think I don’t know who you were with.”
She frowned, narrowing her eyes. “Who told you? Were you spying on me??”
Ryan’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t answer the question. “It doesn’t matter how I found out. What matters is that you thought it was okay to sneak out to meet another man.”
“Julian is just a friend,” Charlotte shot back. “And what does it even matter to you? Aren’t we just playing a role here? Why are you acting like…”
“Like what?” Ryan interrupted, stepping closer. His voice dropped, laced with something dangerous. “Like I’m your husband?”
Charlotte stared at him, stunned.
Ryan ran a hand through his hair, turning away briefly before facing her again.
“Look, I don’t care what kind of history you have with him, but I won’t tolerate being disrespected. Not in public, not in private.”
Her lips parted, but no words came. Then she tried again.
“First of all,” she started, “I think who I meet is none of your business. Second, you’re the one who said this marriage is fake, remember? So why do you care who I see or what I do?”
Ryan stepped closer, his presence towering over her. “Because,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “whether you like it or not, this *fake marriage* comes with responsibilities. Do you have any idea what kind of scandal it would cause if someone saw you with him? Do you know what the tabloids would say?”
Exactly. His image. What was she thinking?
That’s why he’s acting all up.
“Okay.” She let out, “Fine. I’m sorry.. I’ll be careful next time.”
Ryan’s gaze faltered for a second. She’d be careful next time?
Was she planning to keep seeing that guy?
The thought made his chest tighten, but he held back the protest sitting on the tip of his tongue. ‘Why do I care?’ he thought bitterly. ‘It’s not like we’re a thing.’
But that didn’t explain why he’d dropped everything he was doing the moment Dave called, reporting Charlotte’s whereabouts.
Or why he’d jumped in the car and driven recklessly to that restaurant, his heart pounding with every mile.
He shoved the thought aside, fixing her with a steely look.
“Fine. You had better be careful next time.”
Charlotte didn’t respond. She just gave him a curt nod, her face unreadable, and turned away.
Ryan opened his mouth, but before he could say another word, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He fished it out, glancing at the screen.
It was his cousin, Carl.
- Writer
