Trash Fiancé, Meet My Revenge - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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Wyatt is the youngest CEO in the company's history, while I'm just a nobody in admin—practically invisible. Our worlds couldn't be further apart.
The only connection? We went to the same university.
But ever since he took the helm, Wyatt's made a habit of looking out for me. Some people even joke he's got a crush on me.
"Sorry, Mr. Sinclair… I actually want to resign." I met his gaze apologetically.
Wyatt frowned, silent for a long moment before finally speaking. "If you're leaving for a better opportunity, I'll support you." He adjusted his glasses—this time, his fingers fumbled slightly. "But if you're running from emotional baggage? I won't allow it." His stare was unflinching.
I froze. I'd never considered that.
The truth was, after Mom died, I couldn't bear to stay. Every corner of this city reminded me of her. And of course, I couldn't face Damien.
But Wyatt's words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
What I really wanted to escape wasn't the city—it was Damien.
"If you flee just to avoid him," Wyatt said quietly, "you'll regret it."
He rarely spoke much, his face usually a mask of indifference, but when he did talk? Every word cut straight to the core.
He was right.
Damien was the one who'd wronged me. So why was I the one fleeing?
"No—wait." A realization jolted me. "How did you even know things between Damien and me were… complicated?"
Before Wyatt could answer, a furious pounding shook the door.
"Claire! I know you're in there!" Damien's voice roared from the hallway. "Is he with you? Open the damn door!"
My face drained of color.
Wyatt just shrugged, his expression screaming, Told you so.
The knocking escalated to hammering. I'd never seen Damien like this—he prized his composure above all else. This rage? It terrified me.
But right now, I was angrier.
I had nothing left to lose.
"Had enough?!" I yanked the door open and glared at him.
Damien's fist hung mid-air. For a split second, his eyes flickered with something like hurt.
Then he grabbed my shoulders, pulling me into a hug—but I shoved him back hard.
"What the hell are you doing?" My voice wavered, but the fury burned steady.
Damien's eyes were bloodshot. "I'm sorry, Claire. I'm so sorry—"
His broken tone told me everything. He'd heard about Mom.
My expression iced over.
"There's nothing wrong between us," I said flatly. "It was all in my head."
Damien reached for me again, then dropped his hands. "I meant… I'm sorry about your mom," he whispered.
"Don't you dare say her name!" My shout cracked. What right did he have to apologize?
His voice roughened. "Yuyou, everything—it was my fault." A shaky breath. "Marry me."
I blinked, stunned.
Then laughed. "Are you insane?"
When I'd begged for commitment, he'd dodged. Now he was proposing? It was pathetic.
Or maybe I was—starving for scraps before, now disgusted by the feast.
"I'm dead serious!" He seized my arms, grip bruising. "I saw your text. I know about your mom. I won't lose you—I love you!"
His words tumbled out in a frantic rush: weddings, promises, comforting Mom's spirit.
"Let go!" I thrashed, but he held tighter, nails biting my skin.
Then Wyatt's hand clamped around Damien's wrist.
"She said let go."
The only connection? We went to the same university.
But ever since he took the helm, Wyatt's made a habit of looking out for me. Some people even joke he's got a crush on me.
"Sorry, Mr. Sinclair… I actually want to resign." I met his gaze apologetically.
Wyatt frowned, silent for a long moment before finally speaking. "If you're leaving for a better opportunity, I'll support you." He adjusted his glasses—this time, his fingers fumbled slightly. "But if you're running from emotional baggage? I won't allow it." His stare was unflinching.
I froze. I'd never considered that.
The truth was, after Mom died, I couldn't bear to stay. Every corner of this city reminded me of her. And of course, I couldn't face Damien.
But Wyatt's words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
What I really wanted to escape wasn't the city—it was Damien.
"If you flee just to avoid him," Wyatt said quietly, "you'll regret it."
He rarely spoke much, his face usually a mask of indifference, but when he did talk? Every word cut straight to the core.
He was right.
Damien was the one who'd wronged me. So why was I the one fleeing?
"No—wait." A realization jolted me. "How did you even know things between Damien and me were… complicated?"
Before Wyatt could answer, a furious pounding shook the door.
"Claire! I know you're in there!" Damien's voice roared from the hallway. "Is he with you? Open the damn door!"
My face drained of color.
Wyatt just shrugged, his expression screaming, Told you so.
The knocking escalated to hammering. I'd never seen Damien like this—he prized his composure above all else. This rage? It terrified me.
But right now, I was angrier.
I had nothing left to lose.
"Had enough?!" I yanked the door open and glared at him.
Damien's fist hung mid-air. For a split second, his eyes flickered with something like hurt.
Then he grabbed my shoulders, pulling me into a hug—but I shoved him back hard.
"What the hell are you doing?" My voice wavered, but the fury burned steady.
Damien's eyes were bloodshot. "I'm sorry, Claire. I'm so sorry—"
His broken tone told me everything. He'd heard about Mom.
My expression iced over.
"There's nothing wrong between us," I said flatly. "It was all in my head."
Damien reached for me again, then dropped his hands. "I meant… I'm sorry about your mom," he whispered.
"Don't you dare say her name!" My shout cracked. What right did he have to apologize?
His voice roughened. "Yuyou, everything—it was my fault." A shaky breath. "Marry me."
I blinked, stunned.
Then laughed. "Are you insane?"
When I'd begged for commitment, he'd dodged. Now he was proposing? It was pathetic.
Or maybe I was—starving for scraps before, now disgusted by the feast.
"I'm dead serious!" He seized my arms, grip bruising. "I saw your text. I know about your mom. I won't lose you—I love you!"
His words tumbled out in a frantic rush: weddings, promises, comforting Mom's spirit.
"Let go!" I thrashed, but he held tighter, nails biting my skin.
Then Wyatt's hand clamped around Damien's wrist.
"She said let go."
End of Trash Fiancé, Meet My Revenge Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Trash Fiancé, Meet My Revenge book page.