Chapter 4
It had been twenty-four hours since I left.
Tristan's birthday party should have ended long ago.
I couldn't help but wonder if Collector had made his move yet.
I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration.
Why should I care?
He was the one who pushed me away.
He was the one who chose Daisy.
He was the one who said he'd be better off without me.
I opened my phone and checked Tristan's Moments.
His most recent post was just thirty minutes ago.
A photo.
A shot of him and Daisy together.
They were laughing in the villa's living room, looking genuinely happy.
The caption read: [Finally ditched the tigress. Feeling refreshed.]
His friends were all over the comments and likes.
[Congrats, Tristan! Welcome to your new life!]
[Daisy's the one true love!]
[Juliet should've been gone ages ago. She's always got that deadpan look—just seeing her brings bad vibes.]
My finger paused on the word "tigress."
It felt like an invisible hand was crushing my heart.
The pain was so sharp I couldn't catch my breath.
So, to him, I was nothing but some awful tigress.
I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh.
Juliet, seriously, what are you even hoping for?
I exited Twitter and was about to toss my phone aside.
Just then, my phone rang.
It was Tristan.
I stared at his name flashing on the screen, and almost on instinct, I hit the answer button.
But it wasn't Tristan's voice on the line.
Instead, there was a burst of loud music and the sound of guys and girls laughing.
"Hello? Is this Juliet?" A cocky male voice called out—it was Shawn Clark, one of Tristan's buddies.
"Tristan's pretty drunk, left his phone with me," Shawn said.
"Get over here and take him home, now."
He sounded so full of himself, like he was bossing me around as if I was just his maid.
I didn't say a word.
"Hey, you listening, stone face?" Shawn called out, sounding impatient.
"Don't act like you're too good for us. Tristan told you to leave, and you actually did?
"Get over here now. We're at Nightfall, in the King Suite."
With that, he was about to hang up.
"I'm not coming," I said flatly.
My voice was icy cold when I finally spoke.
Shawn was caught off guard, clearly not expecting me to refuse. "What did you just say? Are you serious? Say it again!"
"I said, I'm not coming.
"Tristan's life or death—doesn't matter to me."
"You—" Shawn exploded, cursing me out.
"Juliet, you ungrateful traitor. Tristan looked after you for eight years, and this is how you treat him?
"You think I won't—"
I hung up before he could finish.
Then I blocked Tristan and Shawn on everything.
Finally, the world was quiet.
I tossed my phone aside, walked into the bathroom, and turned on the shower.
Cold water poured down over my head.
I hoped the icy stream would help me calm down.
But it didn't work.
Tristan's face, and every word he said, kept haunting me, like some curse I couldn't shake.
Why?
What did I do wrong?
I just wanted to keep him safe.
Why was he doing this to me?
The bathroom mirror reflected my disheveled, pathetic state.
I stared at my own reflection and suddenly let out a bitter laugh.
I laughed, and tears rolled down my cheeks.
Juliet, how pathetic you are.
You really believed you were his protector.
But in reality, you're nothing more than a dog he can throw away whenever he feels like it.
No.
Not even worth a dog.
His dog got lost? He'd feel sad.
But with me gone? He'd be just out there, celebrating his new life, happy as can be.
I turned off the shower, dried myself off, and got dressed.
I opened my laptop, and as if possessed, started typing out some code.
I wanted to see.
I wanted to see if Tristan was really as happy as he claimed without me.
A hidden program kicked in.
The computer screen flickered to life, showing the villa's surveillance footage.
This was the last backdoor I'd left.
Even Collector had no idea it existed.
The villa was brightly lit on the surveillance feed.
In the living room, Tristan was partying with his friends, celebrating that he'd finally shaken off the "tigress."
Daisy moved gracefully through the crowd like a butterfly, her smile gentle and sweet.
She poured drinks for everyone, her face wearing an innocent, harmless smile.
Tristan was surrounded by his friends, his cheeks rosy from the booze and all the fun.