CHAPTER 9: Bruises and Lies

Peach stood in silence for a moment, fingers grazing her cheek where Milo had slapped her. The sharp sting was already fading, but the fury behind her painted smile was only beginning to rise.

Her heels clicked slowly across the marble floor as she moved toward him again. Milo stood frozen, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps.

“You know,” she said calmly, too calmly, “you’ve got your sister’s fire. That same venom in your veins. I always hated that about her.”

Milo’s fists clenched at his sides. “Then why the hell are you here?”

“To remind you,” Peach whispered, stopping just inches away from him, “that no matter how hard you fight, you’ll never be her. You’re just the leftover.”

Before he could react, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked.

Hard.

Milo cried out, stumbling as she forced his head down, her manicured nails digging into his scalp. She shoved him toward the wall, the back of his head smacking the surface with a dull thud. His vision flickered.

“I told you you’d regret it,” she hissed in his ear. “Let me show you how much.”

He tried to push her off, but she was stronger than she looked—more precise, more calculated. Her knee slammed into his thigh, knocking him off balance. His shoulder hit the edge of the nightstand and sent a sharp jolt of pain up his arm.

“You think Win will believe you?” she sneered, now pinning him by the throat. “You think he’ll take your word over mine?”

Her eyes gleamed with madness.

“You’re just a mistake wearing your sister’s face.”

Milo gasped, choking slightly under the pressure of her hand. “Let... me go...”

She finally released him, letting him drop to the floor like discarded trash. He coughed, one hand on his throat, the other gripping the floor to keep from collapsing completely.

And then, as if a switch flipped, she transformed.

She stepped back, quickly unbuttoned the top of her blouse to make her cleavage look more ruffled, pulled at her necklace to snap it, and turned toward the door. A single tear rolled down her cheek—not real, but perfectly placed.

The door handle turned.

Win stepped into the room.

His eyes scanned the scene—Milo on the floor, disheveled, bruised. Peach, trembling, holding the broken chain in her hands.

“What the hell happened?” Win’s voice was low and dangerous.

Peach let out a small, gasping sob. “I—I just wanted to talk to him. But he... he attacked me.”

Milo’s head snapped up. “What?! That’s not true!”

Win’s eyes narrowed. “You hit her?”

“She came at me first! She pulled my hair—she threw me into the wall!”

Peach sniffled and touched her cheek where the redness still lingered. “I didn’t even raise my voice. I just... mentioned Mimi and he snapped. I’m scared, Win...”

“You’re lying!” Milo shouted, scrambling to his feet despite the ache pulsing in his shoulder and hip. “She grabbed me! She was the one—!”

Win raised a hand. “Shut up.”

The silence hit harder than the slap had.

Milo froze, mouth still open.

Win turned to Peach and took her gently by the arm, leading her to the bed to sit down.

“You okay?” he asked her softly.

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “Just shaken.”

Milo’s heart cracked.

It wasn’t just that Win believed her. It was that he didn’t even question it.

Win didn’t look at Milo again as he walked over to the wall and pressed the intercom. “Somsak,” he said, voice clipped. “Escort Peach back to her car. Call my driver.”

Peach stood and gave Milo one last victorious look before gracefully walking out of the room—back straight, smile hidden.

Once the door clicked shut, Milo found himself alone with Win.

The air was suffocating.

“Do you believe her?” Milo whispered. “Really?”

Win turned to him slowly, his expression unreadable. “Did you lay a hand on her?”

“I defended myself.”

“Did. You. Hit. Her?”

Milo hesitated.

Win’s jaw tightened.

“Unbelievable,” Win muttered, then walked toward him. “Do you realize how important she is to my network? Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

“She came into my room! She attacked me!”

“You could’ve walked away.”

“She threatened me! She told me to kill myself!”

Win didn’t flinch. “Maybe you should’ve.”

Milo’s breath caught.

The words sliced deeper than anything Peach had done.

Win walked past him, went to the closet, and pulled out a new shirt. “Clean yourself up. And don’t speak to her again unless I tell you to.”

Milo stood frozen, shaking.

“You’re seriously siding with her?” he asked quietly.

Win glanced over his shoulder, his voice calm but final. “I’m not siding with anyone. I’m just done with your drama.”

“And I’m done being your punching bag,” Milo snapped before he could stop himself.

Silence.

Win turned slowly, eyes glinting. “Oh?”

In a flash, he crossed the room and slammed Milo against the wall.

“Don’t forget your place, Milo,” he growled, pressing his forearm into Milo’s chest. “You’re here because I let you be. Don’t start thinking you matter more than you do.”

Milo’s eyes burned with unshed tears. “I didn’t kill her...”

Win’s grip tightened for a moment... then released.

He stepped back, adjusting his cufflinks. “You’ll apologize to Peach tomorrow. Publicly.”

“Over my dead body,” Milo spat.

Win’s smile was cold. “Don’t tempt me.”

To Be Continued...

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