Baxt

nder his harsh compliment. Her eyes, wide and victorious, were fixed on me. She h

cating atmosphere of their toxic display. Without a word, I turned and stumbled

, watching my reflection, a stranger with haunted eyes. The girl who had loved Jax wi

e through a side exit. But as I rounded the corner, I heard voices. Jax' s voice. And Jason Weaver' s, his co-found

ced with disapproval. "Did you really have to do

roze, hidden behind a

ing games, Jason. Always has been. The fire, the dramatic exit, the sil

ef, my pain, my utter devastation at his

of genuine confusion in his voice. "Don't you thi

Broken? Nah. Kylie' s tough. She always comes back. She needs me. She always h

washed over me. He wasn't trying to win me back with love or remorse. He was trying to punish me. To teach m

to make her jealous?" Jason asked slow

new, she's exciting, and she drives Kylie nuts. Once Kylie realiz

ng within me. He always thought I'd come crawling back. He thought my love was a weakness, a predi

man I had idealized. He was a narcissist, a manipulator, a cruel puppeteer. My sorrow

-it all faded into a distant hum. I walked home, the night air biting at my exposed skin, but I felt nothin

ed ambition. "We'll conquer the world together, Kylie," he used to promise, his hand in mine, "

ways been there, lurking beneath the surface of his charisma? Cinda was merely the catalyst, the perfect tool for his manipulation. She was the one he pus

l as a performance, a desperate bid for his attention. He

bled for my keys, the door to our apartment swung open. Jax stood there, not Cinda, a smug expression