Evan's POV
I unlock my phone, and the first thing that flashes across my screen is a trending video—
A short, thirty-second clip.
Emmaline.
And him.
Kissing.
I don't even press play. The thumbnail alone is enough to set my blood boiling.
I already know that bastard kissed her on purpose. I saw the smirk he threw my way.
My grip tightens, rage curling in my chest like a beast with nowhere to go—
And before I can stop myself, I hurl my phone straight at the wall.
The sharp crack of shattering glass echoes through the room.
I barely register the destruction when the door swings open.
"Evan, I heard something crash—"
Martha steps inside, her brows furrowed in concern.
I don't let her finish.
In three strides, I close the distance between us, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her—hard, slamming her against the wall.
I need the distraction.