The Confrontation

Riley

I'm sitting at the breakfast bar in my penthouse, staring out at the skyline when I hear a sharp knock at the door. I already know who it is. No one else would show up this early, unannounced, with this much aggression. 

I set down my coffee cup, take a deep breath, and stand up. My heart races, but I'm ready. I've been ready for this confrontation since the moment I left the engagement party.

When I open the door, Callum is standing there, his expression a cross between irritation and disbelief. His usually immaculate suit is slightly disheveled, and his eyes are hard; the calm, controlled man I used to know barely holding back his temper.

"Riley," he snaps, stepping forward without waiting for an invitation. "We need to talk."

I move aside, letting him in, but the moment he's inside, I close the door and fold my arms, standing my ground. "Go ahead," I say calmly. "Talk."

He spins around to face me, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell is going on? You've ignored all my calls, all my messages. You can't just walk out on me like that. Not after everything."

I tilt my head, watching him with cool detachment. "That's exactly what I did. I walked out, Callum. It's over. I don't know how much clearer I can be."

He stares at me for a moment, as if he doesn't quite believe what he's hearing. His jaw clenches, and he steps closer, towering over me. 

"This isn't funny, Riley. You're making a huge mistake. Whatever game you're playing, it's time to stop."

"I'm not playing a game," I reply, my voice steady. "I'm making a decision. One that I should have made a long time ago."

Callum shakes his head, his frustration mounting. "A decision? To throw away everything we've built? All the time we've spent planning, building our future together?"

"Your future," I correct him. "This was never about our future, Callum. It was always about your plans. Your empire. I was just supposed to stand there and smile, wasn't I? The perfect fiancée, the perfect acquisition, while you ran the show."

"I didn't treat you like an acquisition," he says after a long pause, his voice strained. "I took care of you."

"You controlled me," I correct him. "There's a difference."

Callum's face hardens. "I never controlled you."

I laugh bitterly. "Didn't you? You decided everything. What I wore, how I acted, what I said in public. You never once asked me what I wanted, you just assumed I'd go along with it because that's what I was supposed to do. That's what you expected from me."

His eyes flash with anger. "You knew what this was from the beginning. You've always known, and you agreed to this, Riley. Don't stand there and pretend you didn't know what marrying me meant for your family's legacy, for your father's wishes."

I feel a sharp pang at the mention of my father, but I push it down. "My father wanted me to be happy. That's something I didn't understand until now. Marrying you was never going to make me happy."

His eyes flicker over me, taking in my appearance for the first time since he arrived. I'm wearing a sleek black dress with thin straps, the kind of dress I never would have worn around him before. 

His gaze lingers on the plunging neckline, and I see something shift in his expression—confusion, maybe even a little anger.

"You look different," he says, his voice colder now. "What is this? Some kind of rebellion? Is that what this is about? You want attention?"

I almost laugh at that, but I keep my face neutral. "No, Callum. This isn't about attention. It's about me finally being who I am. Who I want to be without you crushing me under your thumb."

He lets out a frustrated breath, his hand curling into a fist at his side. "You're acting like a child. Running around in these ridiculous clothes, throwing tantrums, and for what? So you can feel like you're in control?"

"Is that what you think this is?" I ask, my voice sharp. "A tantrum? You still don't get it, do you? I'm not trying to control anything, I'm just done letting you control me."

He steps closer again, his voice lowering dangerously. "I gave you everything. You had power, wealth, status. What more could you possibly want?"

I meet his gaze, unflinching. "I want a life that's mine. Not one that revolves around you."

For a moment, he doesn't say anything. He just stares at me, then he shakes his head slowly, like he's trying to understand what's happening, but can't quite wrap his mind around it.

"And what about Bianca?" I say, my voice cutting through the silence. "You don't have to pretend anymore. She's been there all along, hasn't she? Right beside you, waiting for her chance."

His eyes flash with something—guilt, maybe, or frustration that I've brought her up. "This has nothing to do with Bianca."

"Doesn't it?" I ask, my voice steady. "She's always been there, Callum. And now, you can be with her without booking out hotel rooms thinking I wouldn't know. I'm sure she'll be thrilled."

His face tightens. "Bianca isn't—"

"Spare me," I interrupt, shaking my head. "I know what's been going on between the two of you; I've known for a long time. I just didn't care enough to do anything about it. But I'm done being disrespected by you two. Now you can have her, Callum. I'm done."

For the first time, he looks genuinely stunned. His lips part, but no words come out. He's always been so sure of himself, so sure that everything would fall into place just like he planned. But now, the control he's always had is slipping through his fingers, and he doesn't know how to handle it.

"You're serious," he says finally, his voice quieter now. "You're really walking away from this. From me."

"Yes," I say simply. "I thought that was clear when I gave you the ring back."

He looks at me, his face unreadable, but I can see the wheels turning in his mind. He's always been calculating, always thinking three steps ahead. But I'm not playing by his rules anymore, and he knows it.

"I don't understand," he says quietly. "You were happy. You had everything. Why throw it away?"

I take a step closer, my heart pounding in my chest. "Because I wasn't happy, Callum; I put on a show for you and everyone. I wasn't living, I was just surviving, going through the motions of what everyone expected of me. But I'm done with that now."

His eyes flicker with frustration, but he doesn't say anything. He can't argue with me, not really. Deep down, he knows I'm right. He knows he never loved me, not in the way that mattered. I was just another piece of the puzzle to him, something that fit into his perfect life. But now, that puzzle is falling apart.

"Riley," he says, his voice softening just enough to make it dangerous. "We can still fix this. You don't have to do this. You don't have to walk away."

I stare at him for a long moment, wondering if he really believes what he's saying. Does he think I'll just fall back in line? That he can say a few smooth words and make me forget everything? It's almost laughable.

I shake my head, letting out a breath. "Why are you fighting this, Callum? I'm giving you your freedom and the woman you really want to be with. Just take it—"

"I don't want Bianca!" he exclaims, finally raising his voice as he places his hands on my shoulders. "I want you, Riley. I've always wanted you!"

If I was Riley from years ago, I would have caved. The fake sincere look in his eyes, the pleading … It was all I wanted back then. But now … Now I know the truth. I had five years to learn.

"Did you want me on my birthday last month?" I ask, and I watch as he pales. "The dinner you forgot about and embarrassing me as I waited for hours, while you were fucking Bianca in her penthouse? I saw the pictures, Callum. Bianca sent me the pictures."

He blanches. "Riley—"

"Did you love me when you put the same ring on me that Bianca had? Did you choose me at my parents' funeral? You had to be at a business meeting that day with Bianca at your side, right? You fucked her on your desk that day, too. I know, she sent me the surveillance footage."

Callum takes a step backward, shaking his head. He really thought I was dumb (well, past Riley was, anyway) What he doesn't need to know is Bianca sent me all these things an hour before I was supposed to walk down the aisle.

"It's too late for this. I don't want to move past what I know."

His eyes darken, and I can see the anger rising again, simmering just below the surface. He's losing control of the situation, and he hates it. But I'm not backing down. Not this time.

I walk over to my coffee table and pick up the promise pendant he gave me, then holding it out to him. "Here," I say, my voice firm. "Take it back."

He stares at the sapphire, his jaw clenched, but he doesn't reach for it. "I don't want it."

"Well, I don't either," I reply, setting it back down on the coffee table between us. "So you can figure out what to do with it."

The silence between us is heavy, charged with everything we're not saying. I can see the wheels still turning in his mind, trying to find a way to salvage this, to regain control. But there's nothing he can do. I've made my decision.

"You're making a mistake, Riley," he says quietly, his voice hard. "You don't know what you're giving up."

I meet his gaze, unflinching. "No, I finally know exactly what I'm giving up, and I'm ready to walk away. I won't be disrespected anymore, not when I finally know the truth."

He stares at me for a long moment, and I can see him trying to find the right words, something that will change my mind, but there's nothing left to say. He's lost, and he knows it.

Finally, he steps back, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "You'll regret this."

"I doubt that."

He doesn't say anything else. Just stares at me for another long, tense moment before turning on his heel and walking toward the door. I don't stop him. I don't say anything. I just watch as he walks out of my life, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing through the room.

The silence that follows is deafening, but it's a different kind of silence now. It's not filled with the weight of expectation or the suffocating pressure of being something I'm not. It's peaceful. It's freedom.

I sit down on the couch, letting out a long breath. I don't know what comes next, but I do know one thing: I'm finally living my life on my own terms.

And it feels damn good.