I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 125 - 126 Roughed Up

Chapter 125: Chapter 126 Roughed Up

Sunlight hit my face like a slap.

I cracked my eyes open and immediately regretted it.

My mouth was dry. My back ached. My thighs felt like I’d done squats in six-inch heels, which I hadn’t.

I couldn’t move. I was wrapped in the duvet like a corpse.

I groaned, kicked the damn thing off, and sat up.

My hair stuck to the side of my face. My left earring was gone.

The room smelled like fresh linen and faint cologne—Ashton’s.

Right. He’d dragged me out of the bar.

Everything after that was static.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand.

Eight-twelve.

My head throbbed behind my eyes.

I showered, threw on clean clothes, and made it halfway to the stairs before my phone buzzed.

I picked up. ‘Yvaine. I’m never going to order that drink again—’

‘Mira, are you with Ashton?’ Her voice was raspy. Shaky. ‘Tell him to come. Cassian’s about to get his head knocked off. Emmett’s gone psycho!’

‘Wait, what? Slow down.’

Yvaine sniffled. She sounded like she’d been crying.

She was mumbling and barely coherent. I couldn’t catch half of it.

‘Okay, slow down. I’m listening. Just—’

‘Come! Hurry!’ Her voice dropped to a scared whisper.

Then she hung up.

I redialled. No answer.

I ran downstairs barefoot.

Ashton sat on the sofa with one leg crossed, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other.

He looked up the second I reached the bottom step. ‘Something happen?’

I told him everything in one breath. Yvaine. Cassian. Emmett. The call cutting off.

He stood and set his mug down. ‘Did she say where?’

‘Lakeside Reserve. Her brother just bought her a villa out there. They’re all at the house.’

‘Alright. Let’s go.’

He drove. I sat beside him, phone in my hand, trying Yvaine again. No answer.

He frowned at the windscreen. ‘What’s Yvaine doing with Cassian?’

I sighed. ‘She told me that after we left the bar, she called him to pick her up. He brought her to the villa, and apparently... he stayed the night.’

Ashton raised an eyebrow.

‘Emmett flew back this morning. Went to drop something off. Rang the bell. Cassian opened the door. Shirtless. Emmett saw red. That’s when the punching started.’

Even saying it out loud didn’t make it make sense.

‘I still can’t believe it,’ I muttered. ‘Cassian and Yvaine? I’ve never seen them act like they even liked each other.’

Ashton nodded slowly. ‘Last I checked, they couldn’t stand each other.’

‘Exactly. Every time they met, they argued. And Cassian’s friends with Emmett, right? I always thought Yvaine treated him like a spare older brother.’

I tried calling her again. Straight to voicemail. My stomach clenched.

‘Shit,’ I mumbled. ‘What if something’s actually wrong?’

Ashton reached over and squeezed my hand. ‘I’ve only met Emmett a few times, but he struck me as level-headed. Not the type to commit manslaughter. Cassian’ll survive.’

‘Let’s hope so.’

He wasn’t speeding, but the tyres still kicked up grit. We pulled into Lakeside Reserve in under thirty minutes.

Yvaine’s villa sat quiet and still. Every blind was drawn.

I rang the bell and called out, ‘Yvaine? You in there?’

It took her a while to answer. The door eased open.

‘Mira, finally,’ she said, voice rasping.

Her eyes were swollen. Wet streaks marked both cheeks.

I touched her jaw. Her skin felt hot, blotchy. ‘Let us in. Start from the beginning.’

We barely stepped through the entryway before I spotted it—a streak of dried blood running across the marble tiles. It led past the hallway rug and disappeared into the living room.

Cassian was on the sofa, half-sprawled, head tilted back against the cushions.

Someone had shoved him into a loose white loungewear set, but the collar was crusted red. Blood dotted the fabric, especially down the left side.

His lip was split. One eye was nearly swollen shut. His chest rose, barely.

To his right sat a man in a charcoal suit, cuffs rolled, top buttons undone.

He was wiping blood off a sleek silver watch with the same care I used on opals.

His knuckles were red.

Yvaine had told me once she’d rather break both ankles than piss off her big brother.

She might run wild in clubs and mouth off at their parents, but when Emmett said ‘home’, she folded.

Looking at him now, I could sympathise with her.

Ashton came in behind me and shut the door quietly.

He stopped in front of the sofa, glanced down at Cassian’s face, and said flatly, ‘He needs a hospital. Now.’

Yvaine sniffled. ‘Emmett won’t let me. He wouldn’t even let me open the door. I think he actually meant to kill him.’

I turned. ‘What the hell happened?’

Her voice was steadier now, but her hands kept fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. ‘He showed up unannounced. Cassian answered the door, shirtless. He lost his mind.’

I darted a look at Emmett. He hadn’t said a word so far, just gave Ashton an acknowledging nod when he came in.

‘I don’t see what the big deal was,’ Yvaine muttered. ‘Cassian used to be around all the time. Mum and Dad trust him. Emmett did too. He even asked him to keep an eye on me a couple of times when he was travelling.’

‘I asked him to look out for you, not take you to bed.’ Emmett looked up.

Yvaine bit her lip. Her eyes filled again. ‘He didn’t fight back. Not once. You didn’t have to beat him up until he collapsed!’

She looked at me. ‘I had to drag him to the couch. I got him dressed while Emmett smashed his phone. I couldn’t call anyone. I didn’t dare.’

‘So you called me,’ I said.

She nodded, lips trembling. ‘I didn’t even finish the call. Emmett snatched my phone.’

Cassian let out a low, wet groan. His fingers twitched.

‘He’s losing too much blood,’ Yvaine whispered. ‘If we wait any longer—’ Her voice cracked. ‘What if he’s not going to make it?’