Bound To Be Yours 🦌

Chapter 16 If This Is Wrong, Make It Twice

"Should I teach you how to talk to your future husband?" he hissed, gin-thick. "Pretty pets always bite at first. Don't worry. I train them out of it."

Revulsion snapped hot in my gut. I angled my head away, sharp enough to dodge his breath, my smile turning poison.

"Future ex-husband, if I'm unlucky. Current embarrassment, definitely."

His grin soured. "You think Sinclair's gonna save you? You'll come crawling back."

Disgust burned through me, but my reply dripped smug—the exact dagger I wanted.

"I'd crawl to hell barefoot before I'd crawl back to you. You shitbrain dickface."

A beat of silence. Then—

"Sorry, Teddy." Lily's voice sliced in, silk over steel. 

She swooped between us like a hurricane, arm hooking mine. Her grin was dagger-bright. "She's busy tomorrow—step one: bleach her lungs of your breath. Step two: book an exorcism for the trauma."

A half-laugh, half-choke ripped out of me as Lily dragged me kitchen-ward, her perfume scrubbing the stench of him from the air.

Behind us, Teddy's glare clung like a curse. This wasn't over. Next time he corners me, it'll be his funeral.

✪✪✪

The bass flipped heavier, rattling my ribs, the crowd writhing neon and sweat. Then—like someone had cut a clean line through the chaos—he walked in.

Adrian Sinclair.

Messy, perfect hair catching low light. Eyes—light brown laced with gold, molten amber when the strobes caught them. He shouldn't have looked this good in a house drowning in cheap vodka and worse decisions, but of course he did.

Cream knit half-zipped at the throat, black trousers cut sharp, white vest flashing underneath. Minimal. Effortless. Everyone else here was performing. He wasn't. That's why every head turned.

Carter and James flanked him like thirst-trap bodyguards. Carter grinned like the applause was for him, James soaking it in with calm, smug serenity.

"Christ," Lily muttered beside me, clutching her drink. "Did they rehearse that entrance?"

On cue, Carter spread his arms like a Roman emperor. "God, I love being the main character."

Lily snorted. "Correction: Sinclair's Batman. You two are just the hot Robins."

Carter clutched his chest, scandalised. "At least call me Nightwing. Upgrade unlocked. Have you seen that arse?"

James, bone-dry: "Tragic. Even in Gotham, Carter finds a way to thirst-trap himself."

Lily raised her glass, grinning. "Cheers to Gotham's hottest sidekicks."

I barely heard them. Because Adrian's gaze had already found mine across the room.

And just like that—the music, the bodies, the chaos—it all thinned, dimmed, until it was just him. Cutting toward me. Step by step.

Then he filled the frame. Heat, height, and the inches left between us.

"Didn't think you were the type." My voice tilted lighter than I meant, a joke skating over nerves. "Loud music. Bad decisions."

His eyes flickered, catching the lights like polished caramel. He leaned a bit closer, a slow, flirtatious smirk crawling across his face. "Depends who I'm making it with."

My pulse dove. A laugh escaped—too quick, too nervous.

And then the bass flipped into a song we all knew. Loud. Shameless. Impossible to ignore.