Kristen shot him a sidelong glance and ignored him.
Finn, sprawled on the sofa, scrambled up at the sound, and when he saw Kristen at the doorway, he staggered to his feet and hurried toward her in a rush of wild delight.
"Kris…"
Before his hand could reach her sleeve, she turned her body, neatly avoiding his touch.
Finn's eyes dimmed, bitterness clouding his face. "Kris, listen to me."
"Listen to what?" Ethan Qin set down his glass and stood, ready to back Finn up. "She should be apologizing to you."
Kristen finally lost patience. Her cool voice carried a bite of mockery. "I can apologize. Are you sure he can stand to hear it?"
"Why wouldn't he—"
Before Ethan could finish, Finn exploded, voice raw with fury: "Shut up. This has nothing to do with you."
E Ethan froze, then went livid. "Unbelievable—bite the hand that feeds you! If I meddle in your business again, I'm a dog."
With that, he slammed the door and left.
Finn didn't go after him. He only stared at Kristen with aching intensity. "Kris, nothing happened between me and Grace. I've never done anything to betray you."
He reached out for her shoulders, but before he could touch her she stepped aside again.
His hands hung stiffly in the air, then slowly clenched into fists.
"Nothing happened, and yet she sends you nude photos?" Kristen raised her eyes to him, those usual crescent-moon eyes turned icy. "Finn, it would be foolish to believe you—but I'm not stupid."
In WeChat, Grace would send borderline explicit videos at the drop of a hat. He never refused them; sometimes he praised her, even asked where she was and said he'd go find her.
Watch the video, then run to Grace—what else did that mean?
Finn kept shaking his head. From the drink, his face was flushed, the bloodshot threads in his eyes multiplying. Agitated, he seized Kristen's shoulders. "I don't love Grace. I've never touched her. Believe me…"
Kristen tried to push him away, but the imbalance of strength between them made it impossible.
Drunk and muddled, Finn gripped her shoulders, repeating himself over and over. "Kris, the one I love is you… I really love you. Can't you feel how much I cherish you?"
He dipped his head, aiming for her lips just inches away.
"Let go of me…" Kristen turned her face, dodging the reek of alcohol, struggling to push him off. "Finn, let go."
He didn't. His hand locked at the nape of her neck, his reddened eyes turning vicious. "Kris, I won't let you go. Not even in death…"
Kristen watched helplessly as his mouth descended—
—Crash.
The sudden shatter of a glass hitting the floor snapped Finn's unraveling reason back into place. He turned toward the man seated in the shadows.
"Jason…" He'd drunk so much he'd forgotten Jason was still in the room.
Heat surged into Kristen's cheeks as it hit her that Jason had witnessed the entire scene. Shame burned so hot she almost couldn't look his way.
"Sorry. Slipped," Jason said lazily, drawing out a cigarette and lighting it. He took a drag, then drawled, "Go on. Don't mind me."
He looked like a detached spectator, unhurriedly watching a play.
Finn tightened his grip on Kristen's hand and glanced back, words slurred. "Jason, help me explain to Kris. There's really nothing between me and Grace."
Jason flicked ash from his cigarette; the gray dust fell soundlessly. He stood, crushed the butt out on the table, and walked around the marble counter. As he approached, his obsidian gaze locked on Kristen like a net dropping from the sky—leaving her nowhere to run.
Kristen's hand at her side curled tight, nails biting into her palm. A pressure without shape pressed on her until her heart quivered. Instinctively, she lowered her eyes, evading the cutting edge of the man's stare.
( End of Chapter )