My Best Friend’s Brother is My Ex Chapter 09

My Best Friend’s Brother is My Ex Chapter 09

Soren showing up out of nowhere stopped me 

cold. 

I just sat there, staring at him. 

The lighting carved his sharp profile into 

something almost cruel in its perfection. 

Everyone held their breath. 

By the time I snapped out of it, he was already beside me, like he’d always belonged there. 

His long fingers reached for the bottle and poured. 

“So, how many drinks was she supposed to 

have?” 

“E–eight,” a girl stammered, flushed crimson. 

Soren didn’t even glance at her. 

He just tipped his head back and downed glass after glass. 

All eight. 

Then he grabbed my wrist and pulled me up. 

“Excuse us. I need her for a bit.” 

“Carry on.” 

I was still dazed when we got into his car. 

I scrambled for an excuse. 

“Mr. S–Soren, my friends-” 

He let out a cold, humorless laugh. 

My choice of address had clearly struck a nerve. 

“Mila Hart.” 

His voice sharpened, ice and accusation. 

“I used to have a girlfriend who was severely 

alcohol intolerant.” 

“You think that’s a coincidence?” 

My mind went blank. 

Staring at his face this close, I couldn’t get a single 

word out. 

Couldn’t even hold his gaze. 

Clinging to that last shred of hope, I tried anyway. 

“Actually, a lot of people are allergic to alcohol. At 

my school-” 

He moved before I could finish. 

He had me pinned against the seat. 

The space shrank to nothing. 

His breath mixed with mine. 

Heat flooded my cheeks. 

He studied me for a long moment. 

Then he spoke through gritted teeth. 

“Mila Hart. Twenty–two. Fresh out of college.” 

He enunciated every word, watching my reaction. 

Each syllable landed like a blow. 

I went pale. 

“Even after you ghosted me, I believed everything you told me.” 

“No wonder I couldn’t find you, no matter how hard 

I looked.” 

“Who would’ve thought? My ‘girlfriend‘ was still in 

high school.” 

“Everything you gave me was a lie.” 

“Was it fun? Playing me like that?” 

He was breathing hard, fury barely leashed. 

His face was terrifyingly dark. 

I closed my eyes in defeat. 

There was no escaping it now. 

No defense left. 

I forced myself to ask, “How… how did you figure 

out I was Mila Hart?” 

“Think about it.” 

He let out a bitter, mocking laugh. 

In those pitch–black eyes, I saw betrayal. 

“We were together for months. I didn’t know your 

face–fine.” 

“But you think I don’t recognize your voice?” 

“I suspected it the second you walked into my 

house.” 

“Nothing matched, but I trusted my gut.” 

His hand caught my chin, tilting my face up to his. 

And maybe it was just my imagination, but behind 

all that anger… 

There was something else. 

Helplessness. Disappointment. 

Maybe even… hurt? 

“Mila Hart,” he said softly. 

“You really underestimated how much I loved you.”