Bound To My Ex: The Billionaire's Trap

Alaina pushed a piece of steak around her plate. She was bored out of her mind, listening to Mark brag endlessly about a corporate merger he had just won.

Mark leaned forward across the table. He reached his hand out, aiming to cover Alaina's left hand resting near her fork.

Alaina saw the movement. She smoothly picked up her wine glass, taking a tactical sip of water to avoid his touch.

Mark's hand hovered awkwardly in the air for a second before he pulled it back, clearing his throat and continuing his monologue.

Alaina subtly glanced at the watch on her wrist as she set the glass down, calculating how soon she could politely leave.

The agonizing dinner finally ended. Mark signaled the waiter, Marco, for the check.

They stood up. Alaina maintained a strict physical distance as they walked toward the coat check in the front lobby.

At the exact same moment, the heavy velvet curtain of the VIP booth was pushed aside. Preston, Lachlan, and Jarred walked out into the lobby.

Jarred walked in the back. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his tailored trousers. He radiated a freezing, unapproachable aura.

Preston scanned the lobby. His eyes landed on Alaina waiting by the coat counter.

A bright smile broke across Preston's face. "Alaina!" he called out loudly.

Hearing that familiar voice, Alaina's spine went rigid. She turned around slowly. Seeing Preston's genuinely warm smile, a wave of complicated feelings washed over Alaina. He had always been the kindest of Jarred's friends, a painful reminder of a life she had lost.

After seeing Preston's friendly wave, her eyes inevitably slid to the man standing behind him.

Jarred stepped forward. The light from the crystal chandelier above cast sharp shadows across his strong jawline.

His dark eyes were locked onto her like a predator tracking its prey.

The air in the lobby seemed to evaporate. The temperature plummeted.

Preston, completely unaware of the tension, stepped up and gave Alaina a quick, friendly hug.

Mark immediately stepped closer to Alaina. He puffed out his chest and extended a hand to Preston. "I'm Mark Hoffman. Alaina's date."

At the word date, Jarred's jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked visibly. A flash of pure hostility crossed his eyes.

Preston blinked in surprise but shook Mark's hand politely. He then gestured behind him. "These are my friends."

Mark's eyes moved past Preston and landed on Jarred. Recognition hit Mark instantly. He knew the face of the billionaire CEO who dominated the financial news.

Mark's expression morphed into pure sycophancy. He eagerly thrust both his hands toward Jarred.

"Mr. Mcknight, it is an absolute honor to meet you," Mark gushed. "I would love the opportunity to visit your offices sometime."

Jarred looked down at Mark's extended hands. He didn't move a single muscle to reciprocate.

He completely ignored Mark's existence. He shifted his gaze back to Alaina, his posture dripping with arrogance.

Mark's hands hung frozen in the air. His face turned a deep shade of red. He slowly pulled his hands back, thoroughly humiliated.

Desperate to save face, Mark turned to Preston. "So, how do you all know Alaina?"

"We all went to the same Ivy League," Preston smiled. "We're old friends."

A low, dark scoff came from Jarred, slicing through the polite conversation.

Jarred stared directly into Alaina's eyes. His voice was low, heavy, and dripping with double meaning. "Yes. We are very familiar with each other."