Page 75 of Held-

Ethan’s face is turning a deep, mottled purple. He claws at Brayden’s arm, choking, panicked.

I should be horrified. Should be pleading for him to stop. But there’s a vicious part of me that wants to watch Ethan struggle just a little longer.

“Brayden,” I manage finally, voice soft but steady. “Not here.”

He doesn’t spare me a glance. His entire focus remains on Ethan, his restraint pulled taut and ready to break.

“He hurt you,” Brayden growls.

“I know.” I step closer, placing my hand on his tensed shoulder. “But I don't want you arrested for murder in a bathroom. He’s not worth it.”

For a terrifying moment, I think he won't listen. Then, with visible restraint, he eases the pressure just enough for Ethan to drag in a wheezing breath.

“You're insane,” Ethan gasps, still pinned to the wall. “I'll have you arrested for assault.”

“You’ll have me arrested?” Brayden laughs. “I just walked in on you trying to sexually assault your ex-wife in a fucking women’s restroom, motherfucker.”

“Go ahead,” Ethan wheezes, his face still flushed with anger and lack of oxygen. “You think anyone in this town will believe your word over mine? A convicted felon versus a respected businessman?”

Brayden's grip tightens again, and I can see the muscles in his forearm flexing with restraint. “I bet there are cameras out in that hallway that show you following her into the bathroom. Why would a ‘respected businessman’ need to be in a women’s restroom?”

“She came onto me,” Ethan spits, his gaze darting to me. “Tell him, Cece. Tell him how you've been texting me, begging me to meet you.”

“What?” I nearly choke on my disbelief. “You're delusional.”

“Show me your phone,” Brayden demands, his free hand already extending toward me. “Now.”

I fumble in my pocket, pulling out my cell and unlocking it before handing it to him. “Look at whatever you want. He's lying.”

Brayden keeps Ethan pinned with one arm while scrolling through my messages with the other. His jaw clenches as he finds nothing.

“You're pathetic,” he tells Ethan, tossing my phone back to me. “A fucking liar on top of everything else.”

“She—she must’ve deleted them,” Ethan stammers, thrashing weakly in Brayden’s grip.

Brayden doesn’t even blink.

He slams Ethan into the wall so hard the drywall cracks. “Enough.”

Ethan gasps, but Brayden leans closer. “Here's what's going to happen. You're going to walk out of here, back to your littleBarbie doll slut, and you’re going to erase Cece from your brain. If I find out you've been within fifty feet of her, I will make sure the pieces of your body will never be fucking found.”

Ethan’s gaze flicks between us, calculation slowly replacing fear. “You can’t threaten me.”

“It’s not a threat,” Brayden says flatly. “It’s a promise. One I have no problem keeping, asshole.”

The look on Ethan’s face shifts from defiance to something I rarely seen in him—genuine fear. His focus darts around the small bathroom, searching for an exit, but Brayden’s massive frame leaves no way out.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Ethan snarls, trying to put on a brave front, but the tremor in his voice betrays him.

With one final shove, Brayden slams him back against the wall before stepping away.

Ethan slumps forward, gasping, one hand rubbing at the angry red marks on his throat.

“Get out,” Brayden says. His voice is quiet now, dangerous. “Now.”

Ethan straightens his collar, trying to salvage what little dignity he has left. When he finally looks at me, his expression is stripped of charm or mockery—just cold, festering hate.

“This isn't over, Cece.”