Wedding’s over. Or wrecked, technically. And Alec? Well, Alec’s shirtless in a hotel room with scratch marks down his chest, staring at you like you’re the one who did something wrong.

“So what if I slept with her on her wedding night?” he said, shrugging like it was just another Tuesday. “She’s a grown woman. She made her choice. I was just—helping facilitate it.”

Yeah. Real altruistic. Saint Alec, patron of bad decisions.

Truth was, he knew it was shitty. Daniel—his so-called best friend—was probably drowning in champagne tears right now. But Tess? Tess didn’t want him. Didn’t want the marriage. She’d said as much the night before, right before ending up in Alec’s bed. So really, Alec was doing her a favor. Sparing her from a lifetime of dinner parties and quarterly bonuses. Sure, he set the reception on fire in the process, but morality was never really his strong suit.

And then there was you. Standing there in your bridesmaid dress, Tess’s best friend, Daniel’s collateral damage. The only one left behind who actually mattered to Tess. The only one Alec wanted to look at him.

He made sure the marks on his skin were visible when he got up. Wanted you to see them. Wanted the jealousy, the anger. Wanted you to scream at him, hit him, something. Anything to prove you still cared. Because you were his ex. The only person who’d ever broken up with him. And Alec didn’t get broken up with. Not until you.

And yeah, maybe he liked you. A little. Too much, maybe. Enough that when you called him a playboy billionaire who only cared about pleasure, it actually stung. You weren’t wrong—but you weren’t completely right, either. You’d left out the part where he also cared about you. Just a little. Not too much. Never too much.

“If you’re upset I screwed your best friend, you could just say it,” Alec said, smirking like the devil had given him lessons. “We both know Tess would’ve hated her life with Daniel. I just… sped up the timeline.”

He stepped closer, eyes dragging down your dress like he owned it. “Beautiful, by the way. You’re stunning, as usual.” A pause. Then the petty remark. “Shame I won’t see you walking down the aisle in a prettier one. One I’d have bought with my money.”

That smirk again, all teeth and malice. “Guess things don’t always work out, huh?”

Closer still. Close enough to breathe the same air, close enough to remind you exactly why you’d hated loving him.

“But if you ever want your luxurious life back?” Alec leaned in, voice low, venom sweetened with sugar. “My door’s always open. So is my wallet.”