Chased by My Possessive Ex (Dylan) novel Chapter 15

“F*ck! F*ck! F*ck!” I hissed through clenched teeth, muttering the words like a chant as I scrubbed at my face, trying to erase more than just makeup. I was back in the dressing room, the lights overhead too bright, the mirror too honest. No matter how many times I wiped the makeup off, it was the heat lingering under my skin that I couldn’t get rid of.

I hate the way his breath grazed my ear. The way he whispered like he knew me. The way I tilted my head without even thinking, just to give him more.

I groaned in frustration and threw the used wipes into the trash. What the hell was wrong with me?

I hadn’t even seen his face. Yet, somehow, his gaze was more than enough to make my body react like it had been starving and he was the feast.

I shook my head hard. Like maybe that would rattle him out of my mind. It didn’t.

I changed back into my clothes quickly, practically yanking the zipper on my jeans like it owed me money. I slung my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my jacket from the hook. I needed out. I couldn’t breathe in here. Every corner of this place reminds me of him.

I was halfway to the door when the door creaked open, and Philippe stepped inside, looking like he’d aged ten years in the last ten minutes. His expression was grim and tight, like he had something heavy to say.

“Dylan…” he began, and just by the way he said my name, I knew it wasn’t going to be good.

He reached into his coat and handed me a plain white envelope. I took it without thinking, but the moment it touched my hand, I could feel how heavy and thick it was. My brows pulled together in confusion as I slowly opened it.

The moment I saw what was inside, my breath hitched.

Stacks of hundred–dollar bills–crisp, clean, and packed tight. My heart skipped a beat. It had to be close to a hundred thousand dollars, maybe more. I just stood there, staring, completely stunned.

“What’s this, Philippe?” I asked, my voice still shaky from the shock.

“It’s your payment for tonight,” he replied.

“Oh…” I said. “But isn’t it too much? Do private sessions really cost that much?” I asked curiously.

“Actually…”

I’m not sure, but I have a bad feeling that it won’t be good news.

“That money will be your first and last payment. You can’t come here anymore,” he continued, his voice low, regretful.

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Chapter 15

I stared at him, blinking in confusion. “What?”

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“I’m sorry, honey.” He looked genuinely apologetic. “The man from your private session tonight… He made it very clear. You’re not allowed to work here anymore.”

“What?” I uttered in surprise, taking a step back. “B–But why?” I may not like working here, but part of me was actually looking forward to seeing him again.

“He didn’t say why. And we don’t have much choice but to follow. This man… he’s powerful. Scary powerful. I’ve seen a lot of big shots come and go, but him? He’s different. And the kind of different that doesn’t ask for things twice.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind inside my chest. But no matter how much air I pulled in, it still felt like something was squeezing my heart tight. I couldn’t explain it–not really. I mean, I never even wanted to work here in the first place. So why did it feel like someone had just ripped something away from

me?

Why did it feel so much like… rejection?

It hit me all at once–sharp, cold, and familiar. This feeling reminds me of how I felt the night Beckett brought Sarah and their child into our home.

I still remembered every bit of it. The way he smiled at her. The way he looked at me like I was suddenly in the way–like I didn’t belong in the space I helped build. That same hollow feeling was settling inside me now. Like I’d been cast aside again. Like I wasn’t good enough. Not for Beckett. Not for this mysterious man with money and power. Not for anyone.

How many times was I supposed to go through this?

How many times would people look at me, see pieces they didn’t like, and just walk away?

Was it really too much to hope… that one day, someone would look at me and see someone worth staying for?

Someone worth protecting?

Someone enough?

I closed my eyes for a moment and held my breath again, trying to push down the tears that were starting to burn. But they were stubborn–just like me. They weren’t going away that easily.

I hugged my arms around myself, the dressing room suddenly colder than it had been just moments ago.

“I understand, Philippe. No worries.” I forced a smile on my face. I looked at the stack of cash in my hand. I started counting a few bills. Philippe was watching me with confusion. He was probably thinking that I was counting it to make sure it was enough. But that wasn’t the case.

Stopped counting at twenty–five thousand dollars. This is more than enough for me to pay the thugs that visited our apartment as well as our landlady. This would also be my way to get out of the place and get my

own.

I put the money that I counted into my bag and handed back the rest to Philippe. He was frowning as he was

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Chapter 15

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switching his eyes between me and the envelope.

“Give it back to him. I don’t need his money. I’m only getting what I need to. I’ll go ahead. Thank help, Philippe.”

you for

your

“But, Dylan—”

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