CHAPTER SIX-- THE AFTERMATH

Collins' POV

"How about you talk to your wife, why had she been staring at me also!" The words left my mouth before I could stop them. I saw Ella's eyes widen with panic, her fingers clutching her champagne glass so tightly I thought it might shatter. A sick satisfaction coursed through me. Let her worry. She'd played her games, and now she could deal with the consequences.

Dave's grip on my collar tightened, his knuckles white with rage. "What the hell are you talking about?"

I shouldn't have said anything. The memory of that night at the masked party flooded back unbidden – her body against mine, her moans, the shock when our masks came off. The same woman I'd dismissed three years ago as just another gold digger after our family's money.

I remembered that first meeting clearly. She'd walked into the family gathering with practiced grace, all innocent smiles and perfect manners. Dave had been besotted, but I'd seen right through her act. Growing up in this world of wealth and privilege, I'd learned to spot opportunists from a mile away. 

As the years went by and she stayed married to Dave, I started to think my first impression of her was wrong.

Last night proved that I had been right all along.

"Nothing," I said, shoving Dave's hands away from my collar. "Forget it."

"No, you don't get to do that," Dave snarled, his face red with anger. "First you try to undermine my business, and now you're implying something about my wife?"

From the corner of my eye, I could see a small crowd gathering around us. Aunt Martha, Dave's mom, clutching her pearls, while Uncle George, his dad, tried to usher other guests away from the scene. My mother stood frozen, her hand pressed against her mouth in horror. 

Everyone knew Dave and I weren't exactly chummy with each other. I might be his uncle but he had always been a spoiled little brat. I don't think anyone had expected our mutual dislike to get this far.

I straightened my jacket, trying to regain my composure. I don't like making scenes and I needed to end this as soon as possible. "Your business problems are your own doing, Dave. Don't blame me for your incompetence."

His fist connected with my jaw before I could react. The taste of blood filled my mouth as I stumbled backward. Years of bottled-up resentment exploded in that moment. Dave had always been jealous of my success, always trying to prove himself better than his uncle. And now here he was, his marriage falling apart, his business failing, still trying to assert his dominance.

I lunged forward, tackling him into a nearby table. Crystal glasses shattered around us as we crashed to the floor. My fist found his face, once, twice. All the while, my mind kept drifting back to that night with Ella. Had she planned it? Orchestrated our encounter to drive a wedge between Dave and me? But the trembling in her voice when she'd whispered my name that night... it had felt real. Too real.

"Stop it!" Ella's voice cut through the chaos. I caught glimpses of her between punches – her face pale, tears streaming down her cheeks. Something in my chest tightened at the sight, but I pushed the feeling away. Dave landed a solid hit to my ribs, and I responded with an elbow to his chest.

"You're both acting like animals!" my sister Rebecca shouted, while her husband tried to pull us apart. Other family members joined in the chorus of protests, their voices a cacophony of shock and disappointment.

Security finally intervened, pulling us apart. Dave struggled against their grip, blood trickling from his nose. "Stay away from my wife," he spat, his words slurring slightly. "You've always wanted what's mine, haven't you, Uncle? Always looking down on me, thinking you're better!"

I wiped blood from my split lip, letting the guards guide me toward the exit. 

My mom quickened her steps and caught up with me as I was leaving. 

“I don't know what the hell has come over you but you knew better than to let Dave rile you up to this extent. We'll talk tomorrow.”

She ended her speech and walked off without giving me a chance to say anything. I may be thirty-four years old and my mom is in her early sixties but Ruth Arma was still as formidable as she was when I was growing up.

As they escorted me out, I caught a glimpse of Ella. She stood frozen in her red dress, fear evident in her eyes, but there was something else there too – a flash of something that looked almost like longing. Good. Let her be afraid. Whatever game she was playing, I wouldn't be her pawn. Even if every fiber of my being wanted to go to her, to explain, to understand what was real and what wasn't.

The cool night air hit my face as I emerged from the banquet hall. My driver was waiting with the car, but I waved him off. "I'll walk," I muttered, needing to clear my head.

As I walked through the quiet streets, my thoughts kept circling back to that night. The way she'd moved against me, her soft skin under my hands, the shock in her eyes when the masks came off. Had it all been calculated? Another move in her complex game of social climbing? But if that was true, why hadn't she used it against me yet? Why hadn't she told Dave?

My phone buzzed – a message from my assistant about tomorrow's meetings. I welcomed the distraction, trying to focus on business matters instead of the memory of Ella's lips on mine. I was Collins Arma, for God's sake. I'd built an empire through calculated decisions and iron control. I couldn't let one night with my nephew's manipulative wife destroy everything I'd built.

But as I walked into my penthouse and poured myself a drink, her face kept appearing in my mind. The way she'd looked tonight, trapped between Dave's rage and my accusations. For a moment, just a moment, I'd seen something genuine in her eyes – real fear, real pain. The same vulnerability I'd glimpsed that night at the masked party.

I downed the whiskey in one gulp, welcoming the burn. It didn't matter what I'd seen in her eyes. She'd made her choice years ago when she married Dave, probably hoping to sink her claws into our family's wealth. Tonight had just proved what I'd always known – involving myself with her in any way would only lead to disaster.

So why couldn't I stop thinking about that night?

My phone buzzed again. Unknown number. I almost ignored it, but something made me look at the screen. The message made my blood run cold:

"I saw everything at the masked party. And in the hotel room. Every. Single. Thing. How much do you think Dave would pay for those photos?”