Chapter 8
I didn't finish my sentence.
Nathan bit his bottom lip fiercely, tears rapidly welling in his eyes. He broke down completely, screaming through his sobs, "Liar. You are a massive liar."
His face turned pale. Before the tears could fall, he jumped out of his chair and turned his head away, desperate to hide his breakdown from me.
Crying hysterically, he ran out of the cafe, where Edward's assistant was waiting to escort him away.
In stark contrast, Edward's reaction appeared terrifyingly calm.
Aside from his bloodshot eyes and the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of his fists, he was masking his emotions flawlessly.
I honestly would have preferred he acted like Nathan and completely lost his mind.
He could have cursed me out in front of the entire cafe, called me a shameless fraud, or even thrown his hot coffee right in my face.
I truly didn't care.
I was perfectly willing to endure his wrath as long as it meant severing ties with them forever, ensuring Anton would never learn the ugly truth.
But Edward didn't. He simply stared at me in total silence.
His eyes held a twisted, agonizing mix of a smile and pure hatred.
It felt like I was being subjected to a slow, silent, and incredibly excruciating execution.
Unable to endure the suffocating atmosphere any longer, I stood up, speaking, "I have said everything I needed to say. If there is nothing else, I am leaving."
I grabbed my purse from the chair.
Edward, sitting across from me, finally let out a soft laugh. "What a brilliantly tragic and deeply touching story."
His tone was dripping with venomous sarcasm.
With my purse, I walked out of the café.
However, Edward stood up abruptly, followed me outside, and blocked my path on the sidewalk.
He looked down at me, his gaze laced with terrifying superiority. "Ms. White... oh, my apologies. It should be Ms. Jones now. Are you entirely sure you get to walk away from this?"
It was the very first time I had ever seen genuine hatred in his eyes.
It was a bizarre, confusing hatred that I simply could not understand.
I furrowed my brows, completely out of patience. "Edward, there is absolutely no need to drag this out. Yes, I lied to you, but I also served you hand and foot for over a year.
"I never asked you for a single dime, nor did I demand basic respect. As far as I am concerned, we are completely even."
During the year I lived with Edward, my presence never once hindered his playboy lifestyle or his sickeningly sweet romance with Claire.
I literally booked the flights, planned the itinerary, and reserved the hotels for their summer vacation.
The only thing I didn't do was nurse Claire through childbirth.
Edward seemed temporarily struck speechless.
After a tense silence, he spoke again, his voice still laced with dark mockery, "It is fascinating how perfectly you pronounce my name today. Your diction used to be so terrible."
I looked him dead in the eye and answered calmly, "My diction has always been perfect."
Edward's expression froze. His gaze slowly dropped to my dark phone screen.
It seemed he had finally connected the final dots.
He took a menacing step closer, his voice grinding through gritted teeth. "What was his actual name?"
"Freddie White," I answered without a second of hesitation.
The instant the word left my mouth, a sudden pain shot through my shoulders.
I could vividly feel Edward's hands trembling violently as he gripped me with bruising force.
Concurrently, his face began to tremble, twisted in a tempest of sheer disbelief, venomous hatred, and a desperate refusal to yield.
His bloodshot eyes reflected my perfectly indifferent expression.