I'LL GET YOU BACK

ETHAN'S POINT OF VIEW

The elevator doors slid open with a gentle sound and I stepped out, my polished shoes clicking against the marble floor. The lobby was quiet as usual, but this time around I noticed that it was unusually quiet and the only sound was just the hum of distant air conditioning and the faint sound of the cars driving on the main road.

My mind was still reeling from the anger I had felt in my father's suite some minutes ago. I had gone there to speak with him, to make him let go of Lexi, so I could win her back and have her to myself.

Heck, I had even gone as far as telling him that she was a prostitute who had been fucked countless times by I and my friends, but trust me, that was a big fat lie because all the time that Lexi and I were together, we came to an agreement that we wouldn't have sex with each other until whenever we got married.

That was her decision and boy, I was totally fine with it. I loved her enough to respect her body and her decision. We dated for four fucking years until that day.

Well, I only lied to my father because I wanted him to hate her and send her away, but no, that old man was as stubborn as my mother. He didn't even seem fazed by what I said. Instead he took it like a casual topic about the weather.

I gritted my teeth in anger as I thought about it. How could he be so stubborn for heaven's sake?

I was still lost in my thoughts, but then, like a ghost from a past I couldn't escape from, she was there. Standing right in front of my father's penthouse door, her keycard hovering near the sensor.

It was none other than Lexi, my father's little wife, my fucking stepmother. The thought unsettled me. How can my ex girlfriend be my stepmother? It just doesn't make sense in any way, because what the actual hell?

Time seemed to slow down as I stared at her face. My chest tightened as if my lungs had forgotten how to work. I hadn’t seen her in months—not since the wedding, not since she became his, since she became my father's little whore, my fucking stepmother. The thought unsettled me. How can my ex girlfriend become my stepmother out of the blue?

But now, here she was, dressed in that same fucking black dress I used to peel off her with my teeth.

Her hair was longer, cascading down her back in waves that made my fingers twitch with the memory of tangling in them.

She hadn’t noticed me yet.

I could’ve walked away. Should’ve. But my feet moved on their own, carrying me toward her like a man starving for his last meal. Boy, I've missed her. I've fucking missed her and I wish I can turn back the hands of time, so I could make peace with her, make things right.

Fuck, I shouldn't have let them take her away to jail. I should have fought for her with my father's influence, but I fucking let them send her to jail. I even called her a murderer, but you can't blame me. I saw the fucking video, where she held the knife to her mother's chest.

"Lexi." I called out. Her name left my lips before I could stop it, rough and raw, like it had been clawed out of me.

She froze as she heard her name and then, slowly, she turned around to stare at me.

Her eyes—God, her eyes—were colder than I remembered. Darker than it was the last time I called her a fucking murderer.

The warmth that used to melt for me was gone, replaced by something sharp. Something final. And now she stared at me like I was some stranger she met at the train station.

Man! I did this to myself. I caused it. I have pushed her away and now she is way out of my reach.

"Ethan." She called, her voice filled with disgust.

Just my name. No tremor. No hesitation. Like I was nothing to her anymore.

The air between us thickened, heavy with unsaid words, with unfiltered emotions.

I swallowed hard. Boy, it was as if a cat caught my tongue, as if I couldn't say anything again. But you can't blame me. She looks different, better than the last time she stared at me before she was taken away to the van meant for prisoners.

"You look…" Beautiful. Untouchable. Mine. But I didn’t finish. I just stared at her.

Her lips—those lips I’d kissed a thousand times—pressed into a thin line. "What do you want, Mr Ethan?"

The dismissal in her voice stung. But I stepped closer anyway, close enough to catch her scent—vanilla and lavender rose, but there was something else. Something bitter, like disgust, but I pushed it down and cleared my throat before starting.

"I missed you." I let out. The words tasted pathetic even as I said them, but I didn't care one bit.

Lexi didn’t flinch. Boy, she didn’t soften. She just stared at me, her gaze slicing through every defense I had.

"You don’t get to say that." She hissed through gritted teeth.

"I mean it." My voice dropped, desperation seeping in. "I fucking mean it, Lex. I—"

"Don't." Her hand came up. It felt like a wall between us. "Whatever this is, I don’t care."

I should’ve stopped. Should’ve let her walk away as she tried to leave, but I couldn’t. I wanted to know everything.

"Did you marry him to hurt me?" The question tore out of me, jagged and ugly. "To get back at me for—"

"For what, Ethan?" She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "For cheating on me? For humiliating me? Or for believing that I'll ever kill my mother? For giving a judgement in the court, telling them that you believed I was responsible for my mother's death, huh?”

Every word was like a lash, and God, I felt them.

But I still reached for her.

"Lexi, please—"

"Don’t you dare touch me with those filthy hands of yours" She hissed as she stepped back, her body coiled tight, like a snake ready to strike.

But I ignored the warning.

My arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her against me—too tight, too desperate—and for one stupid, fleeting second, I thought she’d give in.

Who was I kidding? She'll never give in. She is the most stubborn woman I've ever come across! Even while we were still together. She was fucking stubborn.

CRACK. Her palm collided with my face and pain exploded across the skin. Fuck! Her palm connected with my cheek so hard my head snapped to the side.

I staggered back, my skin burning, my ears ringing.

Lexi stood there, chest heaving, her eyes wild with something I’d never seen in them before.

Hatred.

"Touch me again," she hissed, "and I swear to God, I’ll cut your hands off."

Then she turned, swiped her keycard, and disappeared behind my father’s door.

Leaving me standing there. Alone. Stunned.

The sting on my face was nothing compared to the dull ache in my chest.

She hit me. Lexi—my Lexi, the girl who used to cry when I raised my voice at her, to scold her, had just slapped me.

And it wasn’t just the pain. It was the finality of it. Like she’d erased me from her life and her memories completely. I lifted a trembling hand to my cheek, my fingers brushing the heat blooming there.

She’s really gone. The thought should’ve killed me. But it didn’t.

Because beneath the shock, beneath the hurt, something darker stirred.

No. She wasn’t gone. She was just angry. And anger? Anger could be fixed, right? It'll only take a while, but she'll come around. She'll forgive me and divorce my father and come back to me. Right?

I straightened, my jaw setting.

She thought this was over? She thought she could walk away from me, marry him, and just forget?

No.

No fucking way.

I’d get her back. No matter what it takes.

Even if I had to burn the whole world down to do it.

I glanced back at the door which she had disappeared through. “Just you wait, Alexandra. I'll get you back.”