The Jealous Ex-Mate

Rhea’s POV

I stood frozen behind the sticky mahogany bar. Declan and his frat-boy friends swaggered through the neon-lit club. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

They spotted me. Or rather, they spotted the skimpy red crop top and the black mini skirt that barely covered my ass. They claimed a VIP booth near the edge of my section.

"You were right," a guy with slicked-back hair sneered, pointing right at me. "She does work here. This is going to be so good."

"Hey, call girl!" another shouted over the thumping bass, waving his hand. "Can we get a table, or are you just going to stare at us?"

Call girl. The words felt like a physical blow.

I grabbed a stack of menus, my fingers trembling against the laminated plastic, and forced my feet to move. I approached their table, keeping my posture as professional and rigid as possible under their leering gazes. I set the menus down on the sticky surface and waited for them to slide into the leather booth.

"I am not a call girl," I stated, keeping my voice level. "Please, take your seats."

As I leaned forward over the table to distribute their coasters, I felt a heavy, uninvited hand clamp onto my rear end. The guy squeezed hard.

My breath hitched in my throat. My muscles locked up in pure panic and disgust.

"I like this little uniform on you," the guy purred, his breath reeking of cheap tequila and stale smoke. "How about you take it off and see what is underneath."

Bile rose in my throat. My body went hot with humiliation. I shoved his hand away and took a sharp step back, putting distance between us.

"Do not touch me," I snapped, glaring at each of them.

"Oh, come on, Rhea," a third friend mocked, leaning back with a cruel smirk. "Aren't you here to satisfy men? Come here and satisfy us. Sit on my lap."

I dug my nails into my palms, praying for patience I did not have. I pressed my lips together.

"I am not a call girl," I told them for the final time. "I am a waitress."

"You got this job because you are hot," the slick-haired guy chuckled, looking me up and down like a piece of meat on display. "The manager did not care about your skills. He cared about whether or not you could flirt with the customers and make him a lot of money. I am willing to give you a good tip if you let me see what is underneath your uniform and sit on my lap."

My blood ran cold. The sheer degradation washed over me in waves.

"Come here, baby girl," he taunted, patting his thigh and winking at me.

I just stared at him, disbelieving. I shot a desperate look across the table, locking eyes with Declan. He was watching me, waiting to see what I would do.

Once upon a time, my fated mate would have defended my honor. He used to protect me. He would have punched anyone who looked at me with that sickening lust in their eyes.

Now, Declan just sat there. His eyes were cold and detached. He watched me struggle, acting as if he did not care at all.

"I will give you ten thousand dollars if you drink this entire beer," the first guy announced. He slammed a thick stack of bills onto the table next to a full pint glass.

My mouth nearly fell open. I blinked, staring at the cash. "What?"

"You heard me," he answered, a nasty smirk on his face. "Drink this whole beer and you will get ten thousand dollars."

"We will all give you ten thousand dollars each if you drink all of our beers," another one chimed in, pulling his own wallet out.

I stared at the amber liquid, then at the green bills. Then, my eyes landed on Declan once more. He simply leaned back against the booth and raised his brows in silent judgment, waiting for my answer.

My pride tasted like ash on my tongue. I needed that money. My father was rotting in a horrific pack prison, drowning in debt. This cash could secure his freedom. Swallowing my remaining dignity, I stepped up to the table. I grabbed the cold glass.

I hated beer, but money was money. These frat boys were rich and could throw cash around easily.

I brought the rim to my lips and tipped my head back. The bitter, burning liquid rushed down my throat. I winced at the foul taste, but I forced my throat muscles to keep swallowing. I pushed myself until the glass was empty. The men erupted into loud, degrading cheers, chanting my name like I was some circus animal performing a trick.

I slammed the empty glass on the table. The slick-haired guy slid his full pint toward me, winking as he did so.

I grabbed it. I chugged his beer as well. The alcohol hit my empty stomach like a brick, making my head spin and my vision blur. I reached for the third glass.

I only got halfway through the third pint when a hand clamped around my wrist with bruising force. The glass slipped, spilling foam over the table.

Declan yanked me away.

"Hey! Party pooper!" his friends booed, tossing napkins at him.

Declan ignored them. His grip on my wrist felt like an iron vice. He dragged me through the packed club, shoving past sweating bodies, and kicked open the heavy metal exit door.

We stumbled out into the cool night air of the alleyway.

Declan whipped around and glared at me. "Accept my offer and stop this foolishness," he ordered.

The rapid alcohol consumption made my head fuzzy. The world tilted, but the anger burning in my chest kept me grounded. I ripped my wrist from his hold.

"I will not be your mistress, Declan," I snapped back, narrowing my eyes. "You can forget about that."

"You would rather act like a little slut instead?" he hissed through his teeth, stepping closer. "You looked ridiculous in there!"

"Why do you care?" I yelled back. "You have your fiancé. This is my private business, and my private business no longer includes you."

"You are still mine, Rhea. You will always be mine," he growled.

I wanted to laugh at his sheer audacity, but I also wanted to cry. This man used to be so sweet. I spent more than two years loving him. Now, as he stood before me in the dark alley, I realized he was a stranger.

"I am not yours," I told him, glad my voice sounded stronger than I felt.

He let out a harsh, bitter laugh.

"Fine, be a whore for all I care," he growled, his face twisting with cruelty. "Spread your legs for money because that is all you are good for—"

The vile words caused something inside me to snap. A raw fury took over. Before I could stop myself, I raised my hand and swung.

My palm connected with his cheek. The hard slap rang out like a gunshot in the quiet alley.

Declan did not flinch, but pure rage ignited in his eyes. He lunged forward. His hands shot out, reaching for my throat to choke me.

I braced for the impact, but his fingers froze inches from my skin.

He stopped dead in his tracks. The color drained from his face. His eyes locked onto my exposed neck.

"What the fuck," he hissed.

He grabbed my chin, his fingers digging into my jaw, and yanked my head to the side. "Is that a hickey?"

The mark from the other night. When I got dressed this morning, I noticed the dark bruise Silas left on me was still fading, but very visible against my pale skin.

"So what if it is?" I challenged, jerking my chin out of his grasp.

He glared at me, his gaze turning icy. "Who the hell have you been with?"

"That is not your concern," I retorted. I turned to walk away.

Declan gripped my arm, his fingers digging into my muscle, making me whimper in pain. He whipped me around to face him again.

"Answer my goddamn question, Rhea! Who have you been with?!"

I lifted my chin. Through gritted teeth, I declared, "Silas. Your future father-in-law. Happy now?"

Declan released me. He let out a loud bark of laughter.

"Are you kidding me? You do not have to make up such a ridiculous story," Declan mocked through his fit of laughter.

More laughter echoed from the doorway. The heavy metal door banged open, and his frat-boy friends crowded around the alley, having followed us out to watch the spectacle.

"Is she talking about Silas Vance?" the slick-haired guy snorted. "He has standards. He would never go for a girl like Rhea."

"Yeah, Rhea is a dirty slut and Silas is a Lycan Chairman. There is no way," another friend laughed.

I folded my arms tightly across my chest. "I am being serious," I told them.

My defiance pushed him over the edge. This time, Declan did grab my throat. He slammed my back against the rough brick wall. His gaze turned deadly.

"Stop playing me for a fool and tell me the truth," he growled. "Silas would never want someone like you. You are nobody. You do not fit into his world."

His grip tightened. The pressure crushed my airway. I clawed at his thick wrists, but his strength was overwhelming. Panic flared in my chest. I opened my mouth to gasp, but I could not breathe.

"Now, how about you do as I say and move into the house I bought?" Declan vowed, leaning in close. "Once I get married, I will see you frequently at night and you can spread your pretty little legs for me only—"

A loud, blaring car honk shattered the tension in the alley.

The deafening noise startled Declan. He dropped his bruising hold around my neck. I slumped against the brick wall, coughing and rubbing my aching throat, the skin burning from his fingerprints.

Declan spun around, glaring at whoever dared to interrupt him.

A sleek black Bentley sat idling by the curb.

I glanced over, taking in ragged breaths, and frowned when the heavy rear door swung open.

I gasped. Silas Vance sat in the luxurious backseat, looking every bit the dominant Lycan Chairman. His dark eyes locked on me.

"Get in," Silas issued a single command.

I stared at him in disbelief. The alcohol and the lack of oxygen made my brain sluggish, but I could not mistake the danger radiating from him.

"I will not ask you again, Rhea," Silas warned through his teeth.

I pushed myself off the wall. I felt Declan’s jaw-dropping shock as I hurried past him. His friends mirrored his stunned expression, standing frozen on the curb.

Leaving them all speechless, I quickly slid into the leather interior of the car and slammed the door shut behind me.

"Drive," Silas ordered the driver.

"Yes, sir."

As the driver pulled away, I sank into the seat. Declan stood on the pavement, fading into the shadows. Silas slowly turned his head. He glanced at my flushed face, his deep voice making my cheeks burn as he asked.

"Using me to make your ex-fiancé jealous, are you?"