C30 Breaking point

SYDNEY

I had pulled out all the stops. Every article I had read, every romantic movie scene I had absorbed, every bit of “seduction strategy” my friends had laughed and whispered about during our girls’ nights—I used them all.

The right dress—blood red, with a scandalous slit that climbed up my thigh and hugged every dangerous curve. The lighting—low and golden, throwing shadows across the office like it was a set designed for temptation. I even dabbed that perfume Alaric had once made the faintest comment about—it smelled like oranges after rain.

I thought I had him.

I thought tonight would be the night I’d finally win—not just the bet, but him.

But the moment his gaze flicked over me, those icy gray eyes of his held nothing but irritation. Irritation. Not heat. Not desire. Not even surprise. Just cold, controlled annoyance.

And that was when the desperation set in.

“Really, Sydney?” His voice was like a blade, slicing through the silence as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Is this what you think will work on me? A cheap trick in a cheap dress?”

The insult stung, and my carefully painted smile faltered. “Cheap? This dress costs more than your entire wardrobe, Alaric,” I snapped, stepping closer. The slit opened higher, the silk whispering around my legs. “And I wore it for you. You should feel flattered.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just stood there, impossibly tall and rigid like a statue carved from disdain.

“Do you ever get tired?” His tone was dry, but there was venom laced beneath it. “Of scheming. Of playing these childish games. Of throwing yourself at someone who doesn’t want you.”

That last part pierced deeper than I expected. My throat tightened, but I tilted my chin up, refusing to let him see me falter. “You don’t want me?” My laugh was sharp, brittle. “Funny, because the way you glared at Andy the other night says otherwise. You looked like you wanted to rip him apart just for touching me.”

His jaw ticked, but he didn’t deny it. He never denied things outright—that was his way. And I seized on it, because I had to.

“You’re lying to yourself, Alaric. You want me. You’ve always wanted me. You’re just too stubborn, too—too broken to admit it.” My voice rose with each word, trembling with frustration.

He finally stepped closer, and for a moment, I thought I had him. My breath caught as his presence swallowed the space between us. But instead of pulling me into him, his words shoved me further away.

“You think you’re irresistible.” His voice was low, dangerous. “You’re not. You’re… exhausting.”

Exhausting.

The word landed like a slap, leaving me stunned.

But instead of retreating, I surged forward. My hands pressed against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palms. “Stop lying,” I whispered, my eyes burning into his. “You want me. You do. You’re just scared.”

His hand shot up, gripping my wrists and peeling them off him with ruthless precision. His grip wasn’t cruel, but it was firm—unyielding. “I’m not scared of you, Sydney,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “I just don’t want you.”

The finality in his tone nearly shattered me.

I should have let go then. I should have surrendered, turned on my heel, and walked out with my pride intact. But something wild and desperate clawed inside me, refusing to lose. Refusing to admit defeat.

So I did the unthinkable.

I surged forward again, slamming my lips against his.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a battle. My hands fisted in his shirt, dragging him down, demanding, begging, daring him to respond. My heart thundered in my ears, my body pressed desperately against his.

But his lips didn’t move. His body didn’t yield.

He let me kiss him like one lets a wave crash against an unyielding rock. And when I finally pulled back, breathless, I realized tears had blurred my vision.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… oh, those damned eyes burned with something dangerous. Not desire. Not lust. Something darker.

“Are you done humiliating yourself?” he asked quietly. Too quietly.

The tears I had tried so hard to hide finally slipped down my cheeks. “Why do you hate me so much?” My voice cracked, raw and broken. “What did I ever do to you, Alaric? Why can’t you just—just let me in?”

His jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he looked away for the briefest second, as though my words had struck somewhere I couldn’t see. But when his gaze snapped back to mine, the wall was higher, stronger, impenetrable.

“Because you don’t belong in my life,” he bit out. “You don’t belong in my world. And if you were smart, Sydney, you’d stop trying before it destroys you.”

That was it. The breaking point.

I shoved him away with both hands, stumbling back as sobs choked me. “You’re cruel,” I spat, my voice trembling. “You’re the cruelest man I’ve ever met.”

“Then stay away from me.”

The words, delivered with that same detached calm, gutted me more than if he had shouted.

I spun on my heel, tears streaming freely now, and stormed out of his office. The echo of my heels against the floor felt like gunshots, each one marking the death of my pride, my plan, my hope.

By the time I reached the elevator, my chest ached so badly I thought it might cave in. I had lost. The bet, him—everything.

And worse, I had lost myself in the process.

---

ALARIC

When the door slammed shut, silence swallowed the room.

I stood rooted to the spot, my shirt rumpled where her fists had clung to me, her perfume lingering like smoke after a fire.

I should have felt relief. I should have savored the peace that would finally come now that she was out of my orbit.

But instead, an unfamiliar tightness coiled in my chest.

Her words echoed. Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?

I exhaled sharply, forcing the thoughts away. This was good. She needed to give up. I needed her to give up. Her absence would mean silence, control, stability.

But even as I tried to convince myself, a treacherous part of me whispered otherwise.

That I hadn’t pushed her away because I didn’t want her.

But because I did.

Too much.

And that was precisely the problem.