Chapter 3

Eliana Carter POV

Tyler's estate party was less of a social gathering and more of a mandatory summons for the junior circle. If you were under twenty-five and your last name carried weight in the Outfit, you were there.

Technically, I shouldn't have gone. My knee was heavily wrapped in an ACE bandage, hidden beneath the fabric of my wide-leg trousers. I was limping slightly, favoring the injury with every step.

But staying home would look like defeat. And I wasn't defeated. For the first time in years, I was liberated.

I stood by the bar, nursing a club soda while the whispers followed me like a cloud of gnats. Everyone knew about the pool. Everyone knew about the stairs.

"Eliana."

Mason Riley nodded at me as he approached. He was Jax's best friend, a Consigliere in training, and right now, he looked at me with unbearable pity. "You look... good."

"I am good, Mason," I said, keeping my voice even.

Then, the room went dead quiet.

Jax walked in. Catalina was draped on his arm. She was wearing a dress that cost more than my car-a gift from him, no doubt.

He scanned the room, hunting for me. When his eyes locked onto mine, he lifted his chin. A challenge.

He expected me to run. He expected me to cry.

Instead, I took a slow sip of my soda and turned back to Mason. "So, tell me about the new shipment."

Mason blinked, surprised by my dismissal. "Uh, yeah. Well..."

Jax didn't like that. He steered Catalina toward us, carving a violent path through the crowd.

"Enjoying the night?" Jax asked, stopping right behind me. His presence was a heavy weight against my back.

I turned slowly. "It's fine. A bit crowded."

"I heard you went to the hospital," he said. His tone wasn't concerned; it was probing. He was searching for cracks, wanting to know how much damage he had done.

"Just a sprain," I said breezily. "Nothing permanent."

"Unlike some things," Catalina chimed in, snuggling closer to him.

I looked at her, letting my gaze drag over her outfit. "Enjoy the jersey, Catalina. It's polyester. It doesn't breathe."

The circle around us stifled a laugh. Jax's eyes narrowed into slits.

"Let's play a game," someone shouted from the back. "Truth or Dare!"

It was a childish tradition, but in our world, the dares were dangerous, and the truths were ammunition.

We moved to the sunken living room. Jax sat directly across from me, with Catalina perched on his lap.

The bottle spun. It landed on Catalina.

"Truth or Dare?" Tyler asked.

"Dare," she purred.

Tyler grinned. He was drunk and messy. "I dare you to kiss the King of the night."

It was obvious who he meant. Jax was the highest-ranking male there.

Catalina pretended to be shy. She looked at me through her lashes. "Oh, I couldn't. It might upset Eliana."

The room went silent. They waited for my reaction. They waited for the jealousy, the rage, the tears.

I checked my watch, feigning boredom. "Why would I care?" I asked, my voice steady. "He's not my concern."

Jax stiffened. His ego took the hit like a physical blow. He was used to my adoration, my desperate need for his approval. Indifference was a language he didn't speak.

He seized Catalina's face.

Then, he kissed her.

It wasn't romantic. It was brutal. It was a display of ownership and dominance, meant to mark her and humiliate me. He ground his mouth against hers, making a show of it, his eyes open, staring right at me.

He was daring me to look away.

I didn't. I watched with the clinical detachment of a scientist observing a lab rat.

When he finally pulled away, Catalina was breathless and smeared with lipstick. Jax looked triumphant.

"She's a better fit anyway," Jax announced to the room, his voice loud. "A real woman knows how to please her man."

The insult hung in the air. It was a direct attack on my honor, implying I was inadequate.

Mason looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight. "Jax, maybe take it easy."

"Why?" Jax sneered. "Eliana doesn't mind. Do you, Ellie?"

He used the nickname only he was allowed to use.

I stood up. My knee throbbed, but I put all my weight on it, refusing to flinch.

"You're right, Jax," I said. "I don't mind. Because to be offended, I would have to value your opinion."

I grabbed my purse.

"And frankly," I added, looking him dead in the eye, "I don't think about you at all."

I walked away.

I felt his rage burning into my back, hotter than the kiss he had just shared. He had tried to break me publicly.

Instead, he had only proven that he was already broken.