Chapter 158
ISABELLA
Julian stepped inside as if he belonged there, as if this weren’t the women’s bathroom. His gaze slid over me, slow and deliberate, lingering too long—too hungrily.
I gripped the edge of the sink, my body angled toward the door, eyes flicking to it, praying someone else would walk in. But the hallway had been silent, the party in full bloom now, laughter and music carrying far away.
The hair on my arms prickled. There was no way he didn’t know where he was—the sign outside the door had been impossible to miss. He wasn’t drunk; his eyes were sharp, his stride steady. No, this wasn’t an accident. He’d followed me.
A pulse of fear raced through me, hot and sharp. I tried to smother it, to erase it from my face, but inside I was unraveling.
Fuck.
My phone. I’d left it in my bag on the table when I rushed in here. I wasn’t afraid it would be stolen, not in a place like this. But it was useless to me now. I needed it in my hand, needed to call Levi. Where was he? I needed him.
“You’re in the wrong bathroom,” I said finally, forcing my voice steady after what felt like an eternity of silence between us. “This is the ladies’.”
He tilted his head, amusement tugging at his lips. “Do I look like a man who makes mistakes?”
My heart stuttered at the confirmation that my instincts had been right all along. He wasn’t lost. He wasn’t confused. He had come for me.
“Which means…?” The words scraped out of me, jagged and raw.
He didn’t answer. Didn’t even blink. His silence was heavier than any reply, and then—he started walking toward me.
My back hit the cold porcelain. The sink pressed into my spine. I was trapped—caught between the weight of him and the hard edge behind me, nowhere to go, no room to breathe.
“Did you hear me?” My voice sharpened, the pitch edging higher. “You’re in the wrong room.”
Still nothing. Just that stare. That predator’s stare.
Fear uncoiled in my stomach, spreading like fire. I edged sideways, slowly, as though I might dart for the door. But before I could move again, his hand shot out, clamping around my arm with bruising force. He yanked me back against the counter, the impact rattling through my bones.
“What the hell? Let go of me, you bastard!” My voice cracked, panic clawing at my chest as I struggled against him.
The bathroom door swung shut behind him with a hollow thud, the sound final—sealing us in.
He shoved me harder against the cold tile, his weight pressing into me. My heart slammed against my ribs, frantic, useless. Out in the hall, the music thundered on, muffled but relentless. No one would hear me. Not from this far away.
“Let me go!” I screamed anyway, thrashing against his grip.
Julian lowered his mouth to my neck, his breath sour, his words chilling.
“No one’s coming. Did you think Levi’s name would stop me? You think I care about him?”
Every muscle in my body locked tight.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his tone dripping with possession. His hand pinned both my wrists to the wall, iron-strong. “Your lips… I bet they taste even better than they look. You’re too good for him. Why settle for Levi—someone who is nothing without his father, a spoiled little daddy’s boy—when I could give you more? Please you better?”
“I doubt that,” I spat, fury surging through the terror.
His expression darkened. Rage twisted his mouth. He released one of my wrists only to clamp his fingers around my throat.
“You’d better watch that pretty little mouth,” he snarled, his grip tightening, “before I ruin it. I am not the kind of man you can run your mouth to.”
Air thinned, my lungs burning. My heart was a drumbeat gone wild, my chest straining for breath. Still, I forced myself to meet his eyes, though they swam before me.
Then, with cruel ease, he shifted. He wrenched one of my hands behind my back, pinning it there with crushing force, while the other hand smothered my mouth. His palm tasted of sweat and salt.
“I’ve been watching you since you walked in,” he whispered against my ear. “Waiting for this moment.”
Panic detonated inside me. I fought like hell—twisting, shoving, kicking, my vision blurring with tears. I didn’t care what he said, didn’t care how futile it seemed. My body burned with desperation.
And then—I bit him. Hard.
His scream ripped through the bathroom, sharp and furious. His grip faltered, and for one blessed second, I tore free. I stumbled toward the door, my heels scraping on the tile, hope flaring.
But he caught me again. His hand fisted in my hair, yanking me backward. His palm cracked across my face, the sting blinding, hot tears springing to my eyes.
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