Beastly: Sequel to "Mr. Perfect"

Chapter 40: Crossed Lines and Shelters

✨Evan (P.O.V.)

Dave Owens opened his mouth to say something.

I raised a hand, cutting him off before he could say anything.

"Don't," I said, voice low and venomous. "Get in your car. Drive away. And don't ever show up to my studio again."

Dave Owens didn't say anything.

He just looked at me, face pale, jaw tight, shoulders stiff, breath uneven.

For a second, I thought he might get in his car and storm off in anger.

But of course, not.

He shoved off the hood and charged at me like a madman.

Pure reckless fury—no thought, no restraint. Just ego and rage colliding.

Jake moved faster than I could blink as he stepped between us and caught Dave Owens by the chest, shoving him back with both hands.

"That's enough," Jake said sharply. "You don't want to do this right now."

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!" Dave Owens roared, spit flying from his mouth as he struggled against Jake's grip.

His face flushed an angry red, veins bulging in his neck like they might burst.

"Let me go!" he repeated. "He doesn't get to do this to me!"

Jake didn't budge.

"You've caused enough drama today, Mr. Owens," he said. "Get in your car and leave. Save yourself more embarrassment."

"Embarrassment!?" Dave Owens shouted, yanking against Jake again. "What's left to save!? He's already crossed lines that should never be crossed! He put his hands on me! In front of people! He dragged me like some damn street dog!"

I scoffed and turned my head away, jaw tight.

Dave Owens shoved Jake hard enough that Jake had to step back. Then, the second he was free, he slammed his fist down on the hood of his car.

Jake shook his head slowly, clearly done, and took another step back.

Dave Owens turned to me, chest puffed out, posture rigid with self-importance as he stalked closer.

"You made a grave mistake today, Evan!" he exclaimed. "A grave one. And I want you to know—I will never forget the humiliation you put me through!"

I finally looked at him, unimpressed.

"You don't have to remember anything," I said flatly. "You embarrass yourself just fine."

His lips curled, teeth grinding.

"Oh, listen to you!" he snapped. "So smug! So arrogant! You really think you're untouchable, Evan!"

"No, I just think you don't listen," I said with a shrug. "Ever. No matter how many times you're told to get the f**k out, no matter how many times you get yelled at, insulted, dragged off—you still don't listen. You just keep showing up like a damn stray dog looking for control he's never going to get."

"I don't show up because I want to! Sh*t, I show up because you force me to! Every time!"

I rolled my eyes, tired.

Here we go.

"I was minding my own business today!" he barked. "Doing absolutely nothing wrong! And then what do I see!? Darren Moretti—Darren freaking Moretti—walking out of your studio as if he belongs there!"

My annoyance sharpened instantly.

"Darren Moretti!" Dave Owens repeated, voice rising. "The same man who is trying to destroy our family name! The same man who wants to ruin our business, our reputation—everything I worked for! And you're jsut letting him waltz out of your goddamn building like everything is not on the line!?"