Hurt Me Like You Mean It [BL]-Chapter 20: Don’t test my patience Selvaggio

Chapter 20: Chapter 20: Don’t test my patience Selvaggio
Lance laughed softly under his breath, shaking his head.
"Yeah, yeah... get the divorce first. Then we’ll talk about the rest."
Lexi smiled, exhausted but steadier, and they both headed for the door.
Lance carried her bags down the hallway even though she told him she could handle it. She always said that but she never meant it.
They walked down the apartment steps together, neither of them really talking, just breathing the same quiet air.
He was on the fifth floor.
When they reached her car, Lexi placed her hand on his cheek and gave him a look that said everything she didn’t want to repeat out loud.
"Call me if anything happens," she said. "Even if it’s something small."
"I will," Lance promised.
She got in, started the engine, rolled down the window, then pointed at him with her ’mom finger.’
"And EAT. Actual food."
"I will," he repeated, smiling despite himself.
Lexi nodded, satisfied enough, and finally drove off.
Lance stood there until her car turned out of the lot and disappeared down the road.
Only then did he exhale and head back inside.
He closed the door behind him and leaned on it for a second.
He loved her.
He also wanted to crawl into a hole and die after that entire conversation.
He pushed himself off the door, walked toward the kitchen, and made sure all the food was neatly arranged and kept in the fridge.
After that, he grabbed his laptop and wandered over to his small makeshift study by the sunlit window.
He needed to check school stuff.
He opened his laptop, pulled up his inbox... and winced.
There were several emails from one of his lecturers, all of them some variation of:
– See me tomorrow.
– You must attend tomorrow’s class IN PERSON.
– We need to talk.
Lance groaned. He didn’t want to step foot on that university.
Not tomorrow or ever again, if he could help it.
But he only had a few months left before graduation.
He didn’t have a choice.
He replied with a polite confirmation and then forced himself to get through a few assignments.
It wasn’t much, just enough to clear his conscience.
When he finally closed the last tab, he slumped back in his chair.
His waist and his back felt sore, the desk was hard and the signs were finally showing in his body.
He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.
Maybe he should take a bath, pop in some painkillers and lay down for a nap.
That should do the trick.
He leaned on the chair for a bit before getting up and heading to the bathroom.
Meanwhile.
Ansel sat in the dim lighting of his home office, long legs crossed, phone in hand.
On the screen, Lance sat at his desk by that tiny window, typing, sighing, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
The cameras captured everything in clean HD.
He zoomed in on Lance’s face.
Ansel’s jaw twitched.
He was not pleased.
Boyfriend.
That was what Lance had called him to his mother.
Ansel scoffed under his breath.
Boyfriend?
He wasn’t anything close to that.
He wasn’t some lovesick man following Lance around campus.
And he wasn’t interested in labels.
He was interested in control.
In keeping what he owned exactly where he wanted it.
And right now what he owned was sitting there, in front of that sunlit window, sweating over schoolwork and lying to his mother with a trembling voice.
Ansel leaned back in his chair, watching the live feed.
He had placed the cameras earlier, more specifically when Lance had left the house.
He wanted to know if Lance was stupid enough to bring someone else home, to cheat, to break the rules of the contract.
So far he hasn’t.
Not even close.
He watched Lance stroke the back of his neck in exhaustion.
Ansel watched him hesitate before standing, his legs still a little unsteady.
He smirked faintly like an art enthusiast who had seen a masterpiece.
He liked seeing him like that.
He liked knowing he caused it.
And he liked the way Lance looked today, soft clothes draping over his body, hair slightly messed up, skin still glowing from the shower.
His shower.
The corner of Ansel’s mouth lifted, amused and possessive.
"That little liar.." he murmured, tapping a finger against the phone.
Calling him his boyfriend without permission.
He would deal with that later.
Letting Lance call him his boyfriend was one thing but if he let him continue using his name. He may use it for other reasons.
A knock was heard on the door, a tall blonde woman with defined features strolled into the room.
Ansel frowned, he thought she had left?
After signing the contract with Lance, he had ended things with her, he also hasn’t been home in days so he wasn’t sure if she had left or not.
Seeing that she was still here meant she had defied his orders.
"Serena, are you testing my patience? I told you to leave."
-_-
Serena crossed her arms with a frown "Why? I don’t want to leave. Let me stay Ansel."
-_-
Ansel dropped the phone and stood up, that was it. He wasn’t going to be lenient with her again.
"How did you think this would end Serena? Don’t tell me you dared to think I’d make you a wife? You should know I detest labels.."
Serena gasped slightly, she knew Ansel was cruel, she knew she didn’t like labels.
But she thought she had a chance here but it was obvious he had found another person.
She frowned slightly "So who’s the new person, I know you can’t go without fucking a hole. So who’s the new whore?"
-_-
Ansel scoffed why should he answer to her.
"You’re crossing the line Serena. Disobedient people irk me the most. I asked you to leave my house, you’re still here. You think being a top model would protect you if I decide to ruin you? Don’t test my patience Selvaggio, get out.."