Page 45 of Obsessing Over His Favorite

Emily froze. The smirk, the pride, drained from her face instantly. “What?” she whispered, confusion mixing with hurt.

Lucas tossed the file he’d been holding onto the table with careless disregard, not even bothering to glance at the papers she’d handed him. Then he stepped forward, closing the distance between them, jaw clenched.

“How many damn times do I have to tell you to quit acting jealous over Amelia?” he growled, voice low and hard. “This is business, not your little personal game. You’re only messing things up for me.”

“Just look at the papers!” Emily snapped, snatching the crumpled sheets off the table and shoving them in his face. “I’mnot lying! I’m telling you she’s stealing. These designs? They’re completely—”

Lucas exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw clenched.

“God-fucking-dammit,” he growled.

Without warning, he yanked the papers from her hands and tore them in half. The violent rip echoed through the room, followed by another, and then another until nothing remained but torn fragments fluttering to the floor.

“For the last damn time, Emily,” he barked, his voice like ice. “I’ve seen you pull this crap again and again. Can you just stop already?”

Emily stood frozen.

Tiny scraps of paper drifted down like broken feathers, landing softly around her feet. Her arms dropped limply to her sides.

She stared at him—eyes wide, breath caught, unable to move.

“You know what?” Lucas muttered coldly, brushing past her like she was nothing. “Hiring you again was a damn mistake. I should’ve never brought you back.”

Her heart twisted. Slow and cruel.

The man in front of her was her boyfriend. The man she had protected, warned, even fought for…

Yet here he was… choosing Amelia again.

In that moment, it became painfully clear. No matter what Emily said or proved, in Lucas’s eyes, she was always the liar.

And Amelia? The untouchable goddess who could do no wrong.

Emily swallowed hard, her chest burning. She gave a small, controlled nod, her face turning to stone. When she looked at him again, the hurt had vanished—buried beneath an icy calm.

“I want to break up.”

Lucas didn’t even glance her way. His gaze remained locked on the window, cold and distant as his voice cut through the room.

“Go back to your office. We’ll talk later,” he muttered, dismissively.

Emily took a step forward, her spine straightening, her jaw tight.

“I said—I want to break up with you,” she repeated, each word laced with icy resolve. “Don’t you understand that simple sentence?”

He remained silent.

Her voice sharpened. “How many times do I need to repeat it?” she demanded, echoing the same detached tone he’d thrown at her earlier. “I want to break up. With you.”

A low growl escaped Lucas’s throat. His frustration boiling over. “Amelia, get out,” he barked without looking at her.

Amelia jolted, startled. But as she stood, a flicker of satisfaction glimmered behind her eyes. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the corners of her lips curled ever so slightly with a smug smile. Head held high, she strutted out of the room, her heels clicking against the floor.

The moment the door clicked shut, Lucas spun on his heel.

He stormed across the room and seized Emily by the shoulders, yanking her toward him with force.

“Emily Crawford,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “you’ve really started crossing your damn lines, haven’t you?”