Two Boyfriends
LILIANA’S POV
Of course he’s here. He always shows up where he isn’t wanted, lingering like a bad taste you can’t scrub off your tongue. My jaw tightens, but I force my lips into a smile sharp enough to cut glass. If there’s one thing I learned with Ryan, it’s never to let him see you flinch.
“So,” he continues, his eyes flicking over Ronny with a sneer before locking back on me, “you brought him here to make me jealous?”
I laugh. A clean, sharp laugh that echoes too loudly against the marble walls. Jealous? Please. Ryan always thought the world spun on his axis.
“Jealous?” I tilt my head, giving him my brightest, most poisonous smile. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ryan. This is my boyfriend, Ronny.” My fingers tighten in Ronny’s hand, grounding myself in the warmth of his touch. “And you’re not worthy of even being in his presence.”
For a moment, Ryan’s mask cracks. Just a flicker—his jaw twitching, the way his eyes darken—but then he smirks again, all arrogance and false charm.
“Baby girl, come on,” he croons, stepping closer. His voice drips with that same toxic sweetness he used to use to get under my skin. “It was just a misunderstanding. You know I’m the only one who gets it right. This man here—” his gaze flicks to Ronny with undisguised disdain, “—doesn’t know your body like I do.”
Heat rises to my face, fury and disgust tangling in my chest. I open my mouth to snap back, but Ryan makes the mistake of reaching for my hand.
And that’s when Ronny moves.
In a blur, his fingers wrap around Ryan’s wrist, grip like steel, his voice low and lethal. “Touch my woman,” he growls, “and I’ll break that stupid hand of yours.”
My heart skips. Just like that—my heart stutters, my breath catches, and for one insane, impossible second, I almost forget we’re supposed to be acting.
My woman.
The words slam into me, shaking something loose inside my chest. He said it like he meant it. Like I actually was his.
And God help me, I like the sound of it.
A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it. Small, secret, dangerous.
Ryan notices, and his eyes flash with anger. “Come on,” he spits, yanking his hand back. “You’re going to choose this guy over me?”
I don’t hesitate. “I’ll do it over and over again.”
His nostrils flare, and in a blink, his fist swings toward Ronny.
I barely have time to gasp before Ronny catches it mid-air, his hand snapping closed around Ryan’s knuckles. Ryan curses, but Ronny doesn’t even flinch. He just leans in, voice calm, deadly. “I warned you.”
Then his shoe connects with Ryan’s stomach.
The sound Ryan makes is half-grunt, half-yelp as he stumbles back, collapsing against the floor with a groan. My laugh bursts free before I can choke it down. I shouldn’t laugh—I know I shouldn’t—but seeing Ryan sprawled there, red-faced and humiliated, is too sweet to resist.
He scrambles back to his feet, glaring between us, chest heaving. His pride is bleeding all over the marble floor, and for once, there’s nothing he can do to patch it.
“You’ll regret this,” he spits, before storming out, footsteps echoing down the corridor until the sound disappears.
The silence that follows is thick, heavy. My heart is still hammering, adrenaline buzzing under my skin. Slowly, I turn back to Ronny, smirking. “My woman, huh?”
His lips twitch, that infuriating almost-smile tugging at the corner. “I had to keep up the act.”
The act. Right. That’s all it was. A cover. A performance. A mask for whoever might be watching.
So why does my pulse refuse to slow down?
Why can’t I stop staring at his mouth, remembering the way it felt against mine only minutes ago?
The air between us tightens, stretching like a rope pulled too taut. His eyes burn into mine, and for the first time, I don’t bother to hide the way I’m looking at him.
Hunger. Curiosity. Fear.
All tangled together.
I bite my lower lip, nerves and desire sparking in equal measure. My voice comes out softer than I intend, but steady enough to make my meaning clear.
“Would you like to see my room?”
The words hang there like a loaded gun.
Because if he says yes—If he steps across that line—There’s no going back.
And the dangerous part?
I don’t think I want to.
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