Filthy Chapter 2

Screech.

The sound of my chair scraping against the floor cut through the quiet cafe. I ignored the heads that turned in our direction, my gaze locked on her, cold and final.

“Take care of yourself, Isabelle.”

Without another word, I gathered my papers and walked out, leaving her sitting there. I didn’t look back, but I felt her eyes on me. A few seconds later, I heard her own chair move, and she stormed off in the opposite direction.

Back at my apartment, an anonymous email was waiting for me. I opened it without surprise. Just as I’d expected, it was a message from my mysterious benefactor, offering a list of executive-level job openings for my father.

This had been happening for months. When I first started the process of applying to schools abroad, this person had offered to handle everything. I’d refused, yet every step of the way—from transcripts to recommendations—had felt suspiciously smooth. They seemed to know everything about me, materializing with a solution every time I hit a snag. I’d tried to trace the source, but it was like chasing a ghost.

As usual, I typed a polite refusal. A moment later, a formal invitation to the Croft family’s annual gala appeared in my inbox. A message from Isabelle's father.

I decided to go. It was time to sever this last tie, cleanly and for good.

I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Caleb Ryder there, preening in a bespoke suit from Isabelle’s private designer label. Her favor had turned him into the evening’s mystery guest, the man everyone was whispering about.

I kept my distance, but he sought me out, a smirk playing on his lips as he raised his glass. “Still giving Isabelle the cold shoulder? Take some friendly advice, man. Don’t overestimate your importance.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping. “After all those years you spent playing the perfect gentleman, who do you think was the one to finally get her to let go?”

He loosened his tie, tilting his neck to the side. A constellation of hickeys, new and old, dotted his skin. It was impossible to count how many times she’d been with him.

I closed my eyes for a second, then turned to walk away.

He threw an arm around my shoulder, stepping in front of me again, his voice a greasy whisper. “She’s a wildcat in bed, you know. All that ice just melts. I bet you never even got close, did you? Too busy being the good little boy.” He laughed. “Once she got a taste of a real man, she was begging me for more.”

That was it. I snapped. My fist connected with his face in a single, satisfying crack.

“Keep the details of your sordid little affair to yourself.”

The commotion drew every eye in the room. Caleb staggered back, blood trickling from his nose, his moment of glory shattered. I took a step back, gave a brief, apologetic nod to Isabelle’s father across the room, and headed for the exit.

I’d barely made it to the lobby when Isabelle caught up to me, her face a mask of fury.

“Leo, you’ve gone too far! I want you to go back in there right now and apologize to Caleb in front of everyone!”

My voice was flat, devoid of any emotion. “By telling him to stop broadcasting your private life to the entire world? Was I wrong?”

I let my gaze drift down to her collarbone, where a faint red mark peeked out from the edge of her gown.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You knew?” She stared at me, a strange look of disbelief on her face. “Why aren’t you angry?”

Of course. In her world, I was a fixed star, destined to revolve around her forever. My indifference was a disruption of the natural order. She couldn’t comprehend it.

“Oh, I get it,” she said, a confident smirk returning to her lips. “This is your new strategy, isn’t it? Trying to get my attention by pretending you don’t care.”

I took another step back, putting more space between us.

Seeing this, she switched tactics instantly, her entire demeanor softening. She closed the distance between us, her movements slinking and playful as she draped her arms around my neck. “Oh, come on, Leo… don’t be like this…”

The cluster of hickeys on her neck was right there, impossible to ignore, a vulgar tattoo against her pale skin. Her red lips, parted and glistening, moved as she spoke. A wave of nausea washed over me. I shoved her away, doubling over as my stomach churned, and vomited onto the pristine marble floor.

Isabelle’s face flushed as if I’d slapped her. Her voice was sharp with rage and humiliation. “What the hell, Leo? Don’t you dare stand there and pretend you’re so pure! I know you’ve wanted me for years!”

I wiped my mouth, the bitter taste of bile coating my tongue. I forced myself to look at her and managed to choke out a single word.

“Filthy.”

The color drained from her face. That one word stripped her of every last shred of dignity.

Her eyes narrowed, filled with a cold, venomous promise. “Fine,” she hissed. “You remember what you did tonight, Leo. I’m going to make you regret it.”