A Decadent Kind of Betrayal Chapter 1

Bennett and I had been stuck in this silent war for sixty days.

In the five years we’d been together, we had fought, broken up, and reconciled more times than I cared to count. Usually, he was the one who came crawling back, offering some grand gesture to bridge the gap.

But this time, the silence had stretched too long. I was the one who felt the itch of loneliness first. I decided to be the bigger person, to end the stalemate. It was his birthday, after all.

I had spent weeks designing a pair of custom-linked bracelets—gold for him, silver for me—thinking they would be the perfect "icebreaker" gift. I went to The Vault, the upscale lounge where his inner circle always spent their Friday nights. I expected a reunion. I expected relief.

But as I reached for the handle of the VIP suite, the heavy mahogany door was slightly ajar.

"Hey, Ben, where’s Sloane tonight?" someone asked over the thumping bass of the music. "Are you guys... still at each other's throats?"

The room went quiet for a beat. A strange, heavy tension settled over the laughter.

I shifted slightly, peering through the narrow gap.

Bennett was at the center of it all. Next to him sat a girl who couldn't have been more than twenty-one. She wore her hair in a high ponytail and had on a tiny white tennis skirt—the picture of "innocent but curated."

At the mention of my name, the room turned to Bennett.

He paused for a second, his expression unreadable. Then, he let out a short, sharp laugh and pulled the girl closer, tucking her into his side.

"Sloane?" he repeated, his tone dripping with a bored, reckless arrogance. "The shelf life on that expired a long time ago. She’s too much—too proud, too demanding. Always a drama."

He looked down at the girl in his arms, his eyes softening into something that made my stomach turn.

"I think I’ve realized I prefer someone who actually knows how to listen. Someone sweet. Like this one."