Returning My Plaything Fiancée Chapter 2

I didn't say a word. My indifference only seemed to provoke him more.

"You think she cares about your stoic act? I saw you listening at the door. Pathetic."

I'd had enough. I shoved him, not hard, but he stumbled back dramatically, crashing to the floor and crying out in pain, clutching his shoulder.

Just then, Isabella appeared in the doorway.

"Ethan, why did you push him?" she demanded, her voice sharp. "If you didn't want him around, you could have just said so! Why do you have to be so two-faced?"

I was stunned, but before I could defend myself, Aiden spoke, his voice choked with fake tears. "It's okay, Ms. Lamont. I just happened to save you, it's normal for Ethan to be upset. It's all my fault…"

He squeezed out a few tears, his face, so like Jason's, twisted in a mask of perfect anguish. Isabella's breath hitched.

"Apologize, Ethan," she commanded. "He saved my life. Are you trying to embarrass me?"

Her words were daggers, twisting in my heart. I met her cold, unforgiving gaze, then dropped my head and mumbled an apology. Aiden's face lit up with a smug, triumphant smile.

I took a shaky breath, telling myself to just hold on. Three more days.

It was nearly midnight when I got back to the villa. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed, my eyes stinging as I took in the room filled with matching couple's items.

The toothbrushes, the mugs, the watches, the coats—every single one chosen by me.

My gaze fell on a framed photo of us on the nightstand, and I was thrown back to the day we met.

After graduating from college, I'd moved to Crestview to start my own business. I was struggling, on the verge of bankruptcy, when Isabella swept in. She saved my company, guided me through treacherous business dinners and industry events. I fell for her, hard.

After she and Jason broke up, I confessed my feelings, and we grew closer.

I thought I'd finally found love. I let myself sink into the beautiful dream she wove around me, never realizing it was all a lie.

It was never about love. It was about revenge, about watching me, the fool, dance on her strings.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of voices downstairs. As I opened my bedroom door, Isabella stopped mid-sentence.

"Ethan," she said, a hint of guilt in her eyes. "Aiden got a few scrapes, and his place is so far out of the way. I told him he could stay here for a while."

Stay for a while? More like forever.

Seeing the way she avoided my gaze, I hid the chill in my heart and nodded, my eyes landing on the watch on Aiden's left wrist.

I had an identical one in my nightstand drawer, a gift so precious I'd never even dared to wear it.

A bitter, self-mocking laugh rose in my throat. I stepped aside to let him pass, and Isabella's expression grew complicated.

"Ethan, I brought back some congee and dumplings. Go eat something. I'm just going to show Aiden to his room."

As their figures disappeared down the hall, I let out a hollow chuckle and called a junk removal service to come haul away all the "couple's items."

As the last box was being loaded onto the truck, Isabella rushed out, blocking the workers. "Ethan, what are you doing?" she demanded, her voice rising in anger. "These are our things! Why are you throwing them away?"

"I just don't like them anymore," I said calmly. "We can buy new ones."

She clearly didn't believe me and was about to press further when Aiden's frantic voice called from the balcony. "Ms. Lamont! I'm locked in! Can you come open the door? I'm kind of scared!"

Isabella hesitated, shot me a conflicted look, then hurried back inside.

I pursed my lips and told the workers to continue. As the truck pulled away, a weight lifted from my shoulders.

Soon, this would all be over.