CHAPTER 178
**ZION**
“For the record, I don’t need to intimidate you to destroy you. Just keep talking, and I’ll prove it.....Let’s see how well that smug little smirk holds up when your teeth are scattered across the floor.”
The asshole’s smirk doesn’t waver—not even for a second. If anything, it sharpens, like he’s enjoying every second of this standoff. His eyes stay locked on mine, steady, challenging.
“Oh, I’m not worried about you, kid. You might be good at playing tough guy, but there’s a difference between talking the talk and walking the walk.”
His smirk deepens as he leans in slightly, eyes glinting with amusement.
“Now, unless you’ve got something else you want to say, Winter and I are kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Middle of something? What the fuck does that even mean? You hitting on her right now? Is that your idea of ‘getting to know someone’? ‘Cause let me tell you, it's not gonna fucking fly.”
My eyes lock onto his, and I can feel the rage building inside me.
“You’re messing with the wrong person, asshole. Back off, before you really regret it.”
“For crying out loud, stop it, both of you!”
Winter’s voice slices through the air, sharp and full of frustration.
She sits between us, her posture tense, back straight, hands gripping the edge of the table as she glares at both of us with a look that could freeze fire.
“Grow up, both of you!” she snaps, her eyes darting between me and Damien.
“This isn’t high school anymore, and I’m not going to stand here and watch you two puff your chests out like a couple of fucking peacocks.”
She turns to face me, her eyes narrowing with a sharp, frustrated glare that cuts through me like a blade.
“Zion,” she says, her voice a mix of exasperation and annoyance,
“We’re in the middle of something, alright? Me and Damien are trying to finish this project, and I really don’t have time for this right now.”
She swivels to Damien next, her frustration escalating as her expression hardens even further.
“And you,” she snaps, her voice low but full of ire,
“Stop fucking with him on purpose, Damien. It’s not funny. Just let us get this done without you adding fuel to the fire.”
Her hands are clenched into fists now, her whole body tense as if she’s holding back from tearing into both of us.
“I just want to finish the damn project without any drama.”
—Damien.
Oh, so that’s his name. The asshole finally has a title.
But I think I’ll stick with “asshole” for now.
It suits him just fine.
Winter’s gaze flickers between the two of us, frustration simmering in her eyes. Her voice comes out sharp but with an edge of warning.
“Do you both understand me?” she asks, her eyes locking onto ours.
I let out a sigh, the tension in my shoulders tightening. I nod, trying to keep it under control, though every inch of me is still on edge.
Damien, ever the asshole, huffs dramatically.
“Yeah, yeah, got it” He adds with a smirk,
I shoot him a glare but can’t help the slightest twitch of amusement.
Winter raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, but before she can respond,
Clark leans in a grin on his face.
“Honestly, if you two keep this up, I’m gonna start charging for tickets to the show.”
I don’t even look at him, just keep my focus on Winter, who’s still staring at me with that same damned expression of ‘you better behave.’
At that moment, it hits me like a ton of bricks.
I’ve started this whole ‘just friends’ thing off on the wrong foot... and I’m not sure I can fix it.
Zion, fucking focus...
Don’t make Snowflake any angrier than she already is.
Fuck, I don’t want to ruin her mood, don’t want to get blacklisted again, but every time I glance at that smug grin of his, it feels like a trigger I can’t ignore.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm, even as every part of me wants to lash out.
For Winter’s sake.
Keep it together.
But how the fuck will I keep it together
His smile, that cocky fucking smirk, makes it harder to stay calm. My hands are itching to grab him by the throat and slam his face into the table.
But I hold back.
Barely.
I want to snap, but I won’t. Not now, not in front of her.
But damn, it’s taking everything I have.
Then, this fucking asshole leans in closer to Winter, his nose practically grazing her hair as he takes a slow, deliberate breath, like he's savoring her scent.
His eyes flicker over to me, a challenge hanging in the air like he’s daring me to do something.
My blood heats a fire sparking in my chest. The urge to rip him away from her is overwhelming, but I stay still—barely.
He inhales again, dragging the air in slowly, his eyes locked on me with that fucking smug look, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
He’s baiting me, pushing me to snap.
And it’s working.
My hands are shaking with the effort to hold myself together, fists tight enough to make my knuckles white. Every muscle in my body is screaming at me to just do it—take him down, make him understand that he doesn’t get to touch her, doesn’t get to look at her like that.
But I don’t. Not yet.
Not in front of her.
But God, it’s close.
Too close.
The tension is thick, suffocating. I’m so fucking done with this asshole.
Harry rests a hand on my knee—a quiet, firm warning.
His message is clear as hell: Don’t lose your fucking shit.
Winter leans away from Damien, her voice, sharp and laced with irritation as she turns to address the asshole.
“Damien, what the hell are you doing? Can you move? You’re in my space.”
Damien glances up at her, playing the part of the innocent fool.
“Oh, sorry, just looking at the notes…” His gaze shifts to her papers, but it’s the deliberate way he leans in closer—but his focus never truly leaves me.
“I was thinking, beautiful,” he drawls, his eyes never leaving me, that damn smirk still plastered on his face.
Beautiful?
What the actual fuck.
Is he seriously flirting with her—right in front of me?
My jaw tightens, fists clenching under the table.
Don’t lose it, Zion. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
Don’t ruin this.
Not again.
But God help me, if he says one more thing…
He continues, unfazed by the storm brewing in my chest.
“This project is important, right? We really need to get it done. But,” he glances around at the guys sitting at the table, his tone oozing with mockery,
“It’s kind of hard to focus with this... audience.” He gestures lazily, eyes flicking from one guy to the next as if we’re all beneath him.
“How about we move this somewhere a little more private?”
The words roll off his tongue, slow and deliberate, like he’s not just trying to get under my skin, but actively digging in.
My pulse is a roar in my ears.
Somewhere more private?
I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears, my blood boiling, but I force myself to stay still, to keep my rage in check.
Don’t lose control, Zion.
DO. NOT LOSE. CONTROL!
Fucking shit!
The way he looks her up and down sends a jolt of fury straight through me. He’s already made his move. He’s already picked her out, and I’m just the guy standing in his way, trying to stop him from getting exactly what he wants.
“P-private?” Winter repeats, her voice faltering just slightly—enough for anyone paying attention to notice.
Her brows draw together, and she shifts back in her seat, putting a bit more distance between them. There’s a flicker of discomfort in her eyes like she’s suddenly aware of how close he’s gotten.
Fuck he's making her uncomfortable.
My fists clench, the anger rising up in me like a tidal wave. I take a step forward without thinking, my jaw tight as hell.
“I don’t think so,” I growl, voice low and dangerous.
“She’s not going anywhere private with you.”
.......
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