𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 is your average do-good lawyer on the rise to fame as a representative of young victims. Except her motivations aren't all that innocent. Rayne's only goal is to run from her past, to leave confrontation for the courtroom, no...
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𝗛e kept the edge of his head pressed to the cold, passenger seat window, of his Honda Accord. He knew Rayne was behind him, that she wanted him to say something – but nothing inside him felt any desire to direct attention to her.
She was in the wrong tonight.
The last thing he thought would happen would be to get his ass kicked in front of his girlfriend, by the man she was most likely cheating on him with. It was shameful, and embarrassing, but he knew of Rueben's title and still tried to act macho. It was dumb, yes, but seeing Rayne's infidelity literally stained on her face, ruined his rationality.
Like how was it, that the two of them could lie to him like that. I mean – he never asked, and he most likely would later – but it was so clear to him. Rayne's lips were swollen, and red. That is the direct effect of kissing someone for much too long. And Rueben's mouth was stained a lighter shade – lipstick residue.
It was so obvious.
Do they take me for a fool?
Well, now they might. Only because he so confidently thought he could take on the Heir to the Mafia. What a dumb decision that was. But between messages sent from Rayne's phone to his, and the smartass shit that spewed from his mouth – it was at least worth the try.
Quentin pulled the car into the driveway after Christian gave him the building's code. The ride had been silent. They didn't exchange words until then.
Once the car was parked and the ignition was off, he finally turned to the back to look at Rayne. She was slumped against the door, hands limp, eyes closed. Her breathing was deep, but even, and it looked like she had passed out from the excess of alcohol she had likely drunk tonight.
"Do you want me to carry her?" Quentin asked when they were both standing.
"No, it's fine. I can manage," he replied, carefully opening the back seat.
He pulled Rayne out gently; her small figure was always a benefit in times like these. He carried her wedding style, aware of the length of the black dress she still had on; he didn't want anyone looking.
When he secured her in his arms, the three of them headed towards the parking garage stairs, up to the Lobby.
****
Christian lightly placed Rayne down on the bed. He kneeled down and placed her heels at the foot. Mathew, or whatever his name was, handed them to him on the way out.
He stood and looked at her for a minute. She was gorgeous, out of his league, he knew that, but that didn't change anything. She promised herself to him – to commit to him when she agreed to be his girlfriend three years ago. It bothered him that all it took was one, teenage – looking, immature, piece of junk to cause her to end that mental bond. All it took was one man giving her excess attention, for her to cheat on him. He never would have.
