His Perfect Trap, My Perfect Revenge

Chapter 20

Alaric's voice was barely above a whisper. "I wanted to steal you away from him—I really did. But you loved him, and he even proposed. How could I be the one to break your heart? As long as Magnus treated you right, I could live with that."

He hesitated, then added, "I only came back for two reasons—business, and you. Because I've missed you."

A faint smile touched his lips. "But I never expected you to reach out first. What I really didn't see coming was how badly he'd hurt you." His expression darkened. "Chelsea, now that you're leaving him… does that mean I finally have a shot?"

He stood, circling the table to kneel before her, the Mermaid's Heart necklace glinting in his palm. "Chelsea, will you marry me?"

The restaurant erupted in hushed murmurs, but Chelsea's face remained solemn.

"Alaric," she said softly, "you already know my answer."

Love had wounded her too deeply. She couldn't risk stepping into another storm.

The hope in Alaric's eyes faded as he studied her. Silently, he closed the box and returned to his seat. "I'll wait," he said simply.

"Alaric, you don't—"

"Chelsea." His interruption was gentle but firm. "Whether you love me or not—that's your choice. But loving you? That's mine."

After all these years, what was a little more waiting?

Chelsea exhaled, his words heavy in her chest. There was nothing left to say.

By the time they left the hotel, a light rain had begun to fall. Alaric walked her home, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead before turning away—reluctant but respectful.

Just as Chelsea reached for the door, she froze.

Under the dim glow of a streetlamp stood Magnus, motionless in the rain, his face shadowed.

For a long moment, neither moved. The only sound was the soft patter of droplets. Finally, Magnus crushed his cigarette underfoot and stepped forward.

"You two… you're really together now?" His voice was raw, barely audible.

He'd seen it all—the car, the kiss. And when Alaric's lips touched her skin, something inside him shattered. A searing pain tore through his chest—one he'd tried too long to ignore.

His gaze searched hers, desperate for denial.

There was none.

Chelsea met his stare with icy calm. "It's none of your business," she said, lifting her umbrella to leave.

His hand clamped around her wrist. "How is it not my business? I'm your husband."

"Husband?" She nearly laughed. "What kind of husband hands his wife over to another man?"

Her eyes flashed, the memory of that night burning fresh. She'd never forget the coldness in his voice as he forced her to drink.

Magnus floundered, trapped by her glare. There were no excuses left.

And now, when he finally realized how much she meant to him—it was too late.

"Magnus," she said flatly. "Leave. I never want to see you again."

She twisted free, but his grip tightened.

"Let go!" she snapped.

He said nothing.

"Magnus—"

Before she could pull away, he yanked her into his arms.