Claimed By The Billionaire Ceo

Misplaced Rage

Ariana’s POV

I perch on the bar stool like I might slide off at any second. The counter feels colder than it should, or maybe it is just me. My hand trembles as I tilt the bottle, missing the glass the first time. Liquor spills, sharp and reckless. I try again, sloppier this time, and laugh under my breath like it is funny. Like I am fine.

I thought the bar would be buzzing with energy, lights flashing, jazz spilling through the room. Instead, a slow, moody rhythm hums from the speakers, soft and wounded. It crawls under my skin, reminding me of everything I’m trying to forget. I sip my liquor, letting it crawl through me, wishing it were something more lively. Something that could drown out the mess in my head.

Tears slip out without warning. I wipe them away with the back of my hand quickly, and throw the shot back. It burns. I welcome it. I pour another.

Blair is beside me. I feel her before I see her. I reach for another shot, and her hand snaps around my wrist midair.

“You don’t have head for alcohol, but this is your second bottle,” she says.

She leans in closer, her voice low, embarrassed, almost pleading. “If you can’t tell me what’s going on, at least don’t keep making heads turn in this direction.”

Everything blurs, but I see Blair stand up abruptly. She blows out a long , annoyed breath, turns to the barman, excuses herself, and walks away.

Something ugly rises in my chest. I yell after her, laughing too hard. “I don’t care if you leave too. Nobody ever stays, who cares?”

My tone drops as I slump back onto the counter. “I just wanna drink tonight,” I mutter. I turn to the bartender. “Another bottle.”

Just then, a young man steps beside me at the counter. He speaks briefly to the bartender, pays, and turns to leave. My heart stutters. I squeeze my eyes shut, then force them open wide. I stand too fast. The room tilts, but I follow him anyway, stumbling out into the night.

The moment I see his back by the car, my chest explodes. I run. I jump on him, fingers digging into his hair, yanking him backward.

“You,” I cry, my voice cracking. “How dare you, Nicholas?” I scream. “Have you come to see me cry?”

He spins in panic, trying to pull me off. “Miss, I think you got the wrong person,” he says.

I am past listening. I keep pulling his hair. “Was it fun, treating me like a bet…how could you do this to me?”

My laugh comes out broken, it sounds wrong even to my ears, and then it collapses into a sob. The memory crashes back in full force. A bet. I was a bet.

My finger twists harder in his hair. “How could you do this to me? And with my sister?” I choke. “Was that why you sided with her, because you’ve always loved her, and not me?”

My voice breaks completely. “I didn’t know who I was, but still you accepted me when everyone else treated me poorly, was that also the plan too?”

My grip weakens suddenly. The ground tilts. I lose my balance before I realize what’s happening. My hands slip free, and I fall hard against the pavement. Pain shoots through me as I let out a low groan of tears, my face pressed against the cold ground.

“All I wanted was someone who truly loved me,” I sniff. “someone who stood up for me, but that was all an act. You trapped me. You lied to me, you scoundrel.”

I lift my head drunkenly, anger flashing sharp and hot. I push myself halfway up and look around wildly. That’s when I see it. A heavy stone lies nearby. My fingers curl around it without thinking. I raise my shaking hands and throw it with everything I have. It slams into his car with a loud echoing thud.

I toss my hair back and glare at him, staggering closer. I lift my arm again, this time aiming for him. But my head spins violently. My knees buckle. The street rolls upward, the lights blurring into long rays.

I don’t feel myself fall.

I fall into his hands.

And everything goes dark.

***

Morning comes soft and slow. I roll on the bed, smiling sheepishly. “Oh Blair, did you change your beddings? This is so soft,” I murmur, grinning as I hug the pillow tighter.

My smile fades. I jolt upright, clutching my head as pain throbs sharply. I groan and rub my temples, blinking around the huge room.

This isn’t my house.

This isn’t Blair’s either.

I narrow my eyes as memories crash into me all at once. The bar. The yelling. The stranger. I cover my face with my hands, embarrassed. “Oh no,” I whisper. “What was I thinking? I said all that to someone I didn’t even know.”

I clench the sheets, biting my lip, cursing Nicholas silently. I grab my bag, my movements quick and careful, and slip out of the room, closing the door behind me without a sound.

I reach the bottom of the stairs, my hands shaking as they grip the doorknob. I press my palm against it, almost twisting it, imagining what might happen if I stay one more minute. My breath comes in shallow, uneven pulls.

“Trying to run away?”

I freeze.

I turn too fast and nearly lose my balance. Strong hands catch my waist, steadying me before I can fall. My breath stutters as our eyes lock.

For a split second, my thoughts betray me. Everything slows. I notice the way his white shirt clings to his frame, the top buttons undone, his broad chest rising steadily. Heat rushes to my face. I press my lips together and swallow hard, hating how my body reacts before my mind does.

I pull myself out of his grip and straighten, planting my feet firmly on the floor. I step back, creating distance, my eyes narrowing as they stay fixed on his face, searching.

Then it clicks.

The restaurant.

My finger lifts, pointing at him. “You.”