Mr. Right after Mr Wrong: A million-dollar upgrade

Chapter 6

Karson

The impact of her sudden attack echoed through me, physically and emotionally. Leia's words struck a nerve, and I could feel a tightness at the side of my jaw. As I opened my mouth to respond, her defiant gaze met mine, daring me to deny the truth she had just spoken. The implacable brown of her eyes darkened with a surge of emotion, but I couldn't find the words to counter her accusations. Instead, my mouth closed into a hard, self-contemptuous line.

Fueled by a fresh wave of inner violence, I saw Leia seizing the fabric of her dress and tearing it apart with a vicious yank. Buttons scattered in all directions, some landing on the bed, others on the floor, and one flying across the room to land at my feet. I stared down at the tiny button, my dark head bowed to conceal the expression on my face.

Frozen in place, I couldn't move as Leia continued her destructive spree, tearing the dress from her body with no regard for its cost. She stood before me, trembling and cold, wearing only a white lace bodice and silk stockings. I could feel my body stirring with a hum as my eyes caught sight of her. My eyes couldn't stay only on her face.

"This feels worse than rape," Leia whispered as her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The words hung heavy in the air, and I felt a pang of guilt, a weight settling in the pit of my stomach.

"God, Leia. Don't..." I muttered, taking a hesitant half-step towards her, my hand outstretched in a distressed appeal. But I withdrew it, realizing there was nothing I could say to ease the pain and degradation she was experiencing. My family was to be flamed for it and yet I couldn't do anything for her. I sympathized with her and all I wanted to was hold her tight in my arms but it wasn't my place to do so.

Turning towards the door, my broad shoulders stiff beneath the smooth grey cloth of my formal morning jacket, I began, "I'll go and get someone to—"

"No!" Leia's protest cut through the air, a raspy plea that stopped me in my tracks. She turned to face me, her gaze determined.

"No," she repeated huskily. "You can go if you want, but I don't want anyone else coming anywhere near this room."

Her request felt to be surprising, in this moment she needed someone to be with her, yet she didn't want anyone. I hesitated, caught between the impulse to leave and an unspoken understanding of her desire for privacy. She didn't want witnesses to her downfall, especially not others who held a place in her life. Not her best friend, her aunt. Despite the contempt she felt from our first introduction as Derek's uncle, I found myself conflicted.

Leia didn't care about my presence or the fact that she was nearly exposed in front of me. I had been the catalyst for her current turmoil, and the air between us crackled with tension. It was a wild moment, and I grappled with the aftermath of my actions.

As I stood there, contemplating my next move, my mind raced. I replayed the events leading up to this point, dissecting my decisions and their consequences. The room, once a battleground for unspoken desires and hidden tensions, now hung heavy with a palpable silence.

Leia's vulnerability was laid bare, her torn dress a metaphor for the shattered pieces of her composure. I felt a sense of responsibility, a weight that pressed on me from every angle. The internal struggle intensified as I grappled with the turmoil of my own emotions.

Leia's voice broke through my internal turmoil, the husky whisper reaching me like a plea. "You can leave, Karson, but I don't want an audience to my humiliation." Her eyes bore into mine, searching for something—understanding, remorse, or perhaps just acknowledgment.

I couldn't tear my gaze away from her, and a heavy silence settled between us. The room seemed to close in, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Leia's torn dress lay in tatters around her, a stark reminder of the destruction that had unfolded in mere moments.

My chest tightened as I grappled with the conflicting emotions swirling within me. Guilt, regret, and a profound sense of responsibility weighed heavily on my shoulders. I took a deep breath, attempting to gather my thoughts and find the right words, but they eluded me.

Leia's eyes held a mixture of pain and defiance, challenging me to acknowledge the gravity of the situation. I felt a lump forming in my throat, the weight of the words she had spoken sinking in. "Worse than rape," she had said, and the impact of those words echoed in the silent room.

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