Chapter 2My Billionaire Fiancé's Dark Obsession

“Don’t be mad, Sloan. Come sit and play with us!” one of his buddies, a big guy named ‘Tank,’ coaxed.

An expression of displeasure crossed Jax’s face. He glared at Tank.

“Stop calling her that!”

Tank quickly shut his mouth.

“Jax… let’s just go home.”

I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, stepping forward to gently pull at the hem of his jacket.

A wicked, cocky smile spread across Jax’s face. He was all rogue charm.

“You came all this way. You’re not going to drink a toast to my win?”

Caught in his intense, seductive gaze, I completely forgot I was severely allergic to alcohol.

The straight liquor burned its way down my throat, and I doubled over, coughing violently.

“That’s not fair, Jax,” another friend chimed in. “Willow didn’t even have to drink!”

Jax dropped the playful act.

“She’s a girl, why would she drink hard liquor? Juice is fine for her. I’d drink it for her if I had to.”

“Ooh-la-la, protective much!”

Willow stood up, holding her juice glass, and came over to pat my back. She asked, gently and with false concern, “Sister, are you okay? Would you like some of the juice Jax got me?”

“No, thank you.”

I weakly pushed the glass away from my face.

“Ah! Sister, how could you!”

I felt a sudden, cold dampness spread over me. The next thing I knew, a teary, victimized Willow was nestled securely in Jax’s arms.

Jax looked at me with open disgust.

“If you didn’t want the juice, fine! Why did you have to shove her?”

My eyes stung with tears, and I bit my lip hard.

“I didn’t shove her!”

Hiding in Jax’s embrace, Willow suddenly gasped.

“Jax, look what Sister is wearing under her coat! It’s so… gross.”

All eyes in the room turned to me.

I looked down, confused, only to realize my black coat had fallen open. The orange juice had soaked my silk slip dress. The fabric clung to my skin, clearly outlining the shape of my chest.

Jax’s eyes momentarily darkened.

Mortified, I clutched the neck of my gown.

Several of the men swallowed hard.

“Sloan rushing here so fast… does she want to take Jax home and, you know… heh heh heh.”

“I can’t believe it, Sloan. You always seemed so reserved, but who knew you were such a tease?”

My face burned. I lowered my head, desperate to escape this public execution.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or the allergy kicking in, but I felt intensely hot, with an unbearable itching across my arms and thighs.

Jax seized my wrist tight.

His gaze held a mix of mockery and a hidden, raw lust.

“Why leave? You wore this because you wanted me, didn’t you? You wanted me to take you right here?”

“Jax!”

Willow’s face was a mask of sheer offense.

Jax glanced at her, then back at me.

“I’ll give you a chance. Go lie down on the sofa.”

My body trembled. A tidal wave of shame washed over me.

“Jax, I do love you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll sacrifice my dignity for you!”

I violently wrenched my wrist free and scrambled out of the club.

I drove straight to the pharmacy for allergy medication.

When I got home, I saw Willow had posted an update.

She was wearing a short, black mini-skirt, straddling Jax’s hundred-thousand-dollar Ducati, and wearing the cat-ear helmet he bought her.

“My boyfriend brought me up the mountain road to feel the speed and the wind! Congrats on the first place again!”

I remembered Jax had never let me touch his bike.

The one time I insisted on riding, he cranked the speed past 120 mph and refused to let me hold his waist.

Without a helmet, I nearly flew off the back, clutching the passenger rail for dear life.

My mind felt faint, detached.

I gripped my chest hard and whispered, “Hold on… just hold on.”

The storm of emotions slowly subsided.

I scrolled through Willow’s profile. Soon after, she posted again.