Goddamn it, I can't take my eyes off her. The room's full of idiots, fake smiles, and champagne bottles nobody needs, but there she is, like the whole damn world stopped just to mess with me. Emily Bella Bennett.

That black dress clings to her curves, curves I know better than my own damn hand. No jewelry, not that she needs it. Her lips, that natural color that drives me wild, and her eyes... shit, those eyes that mess with me in the worst way, full of rage and desire at the same damn time.

She shouldn't be here. I know she was invited 'cause she's friends with my buddy's wife, but seeing her in my world after all this time has me on edge. My jaw aches from clenching it so damn hard.

I pull out my phone. I'm not some pussy, but I need her to see me looking. I want her to know I'm watching her. That she can't hide from me.

"Goddamn, you're fucking gorgeous. Get over here."

I watch her pull her phone out of her purse. She scowls, and I can read that smug expression of hers. A minute goes by before her reply shows up.

"I told you, Dante. You’re not gonna have me again."

I look at the screen, muscles tight. That bitch thinks she’s in control, thinks she can stand there like I don’t exist. Like she’s not mine. She’s always been mine. She always will be.

My fingers fly over the keyboard, rage coursing through me.

"Shit, I wanna fuck. Why you acting like this? You think by putting yourself in this position you’re above me? I need you, Emily, damn it. My dick doesn’t work with any other woman but you. I miss your pussy and the faces we used to make when we fucked. Don’t be stubborn, baby."

I look at her again. Her cheeks are red, and her stare hardens. I can feel her fury, that fire I've always loved and hated equally. Then she responds.

"Go tell the blonde leggy bitch you were with that one time to take care of your fucking heat. I’m not your damn toy."

Bitch.