Claimed By Ex's Best Friend

Anna's POV

The elevator mirror reflected my figure—a deep red dress clung to my curves like a second skin, accentuating every dip and swell. I could almost picture Declan's large hands gripping the fabric, tearing it away in one rough motion. Just the thought sent a shiver down my spine, my thighs tensing with anticipation.

Perfect.

Today marked our first anniversary, and I needed everything to be flawless.

Even though he'd barely responded to my messages all week, I told myself it was just the hospital keeping him busy. His schedule showed he was off today—I'd bet he'd even forgotten our anniversary.

I was going to surprise him.

But when I reached his apartment door, my blood turned to ice.

A pair of Jimmy Choo heels lay sprawled in the entryway.

Not mine.

A nurse's salary couldn't afford $4,000 shoes.

Was he cheating?

The thought flickered, but I crushed it instantly. A week ago, his fingers had left bruises on my hips, his breath scorching my ear. Until I saw it with my own eyes, I refused to believe it.

This wasn't blind trust—it was ten years of knowing him.

I'd known Declan for a decade and loved him in silence for just as long. He wasn't the type to waver—that obsessive focus was what made him one of the top surgeons in the city. In all those years, I'd only ever seen him in one serious relationship.

With Nicole Lee.

The supermodel who'd graced Vogue covers before dumping him for a Hollywood producer. They could never get back together—I knew that better than anyone. Declan would sooner cut off his hands than forgive betrayal.

So then… why me?

What was I compared to Nicole? A gambling father, a mother with cancer, and a dropout brother tangled up with gangs. A bitter taste rose in my mouth. My only advantage was my stubborn resilience—the fact that, despite my trash-tier life, I'd still clawed my way into the same med school as him.

Perseverance was my weapon. Even so, Declan had told me that he loved me because of my persistence—I had loved him for ten years.

My hand hovered over the doorknob—

Then a woman's breathy moan slithered through the door.

"Fuck me, Declan! Harder! I need it!"

That voice—

"Tell me… do you miss being inside me?" she gasped.

Nicole Lee.

Declan's first love. The woman who'd shattered him. My blood turned to sludge, the floor tilting beneath me. As if the gaping hole in my chest wasn't enough, Declan's groan followed.

"You bad girl. Arch that ass up." A sharp smack of skin on skin.

God, the walls were thin. I could hear every filthy detail. I should have left, but my legs were lead. Tears spilled without permission as I slumped against the wall, forcing air into my lungs.

Why?

Why would Declan take her back? She was a viper! She'd betrayed him! He'd once sworn he'd kill her if she ever showed her face again—so was this his version? Fucking her unconscious with his dick?

Bastard.

But I wouldn't break.

The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth where I'd bitten my cheek. "This is nothing," I told myself. My father's fists hadn't broken me. Neither would this.

Then, like a switch flipping, despair burned into rage.

That bastard.

I might not have money, but I refused to let anyone trample my pride. Fight back fast—that was how I survived.

"We're done."

I should've kicked the door in and confronted them. But I wouldn't waste my morning sandwich on their disgusting spectacle. Had my obedience made him this arrogant?

Fine. If he could have someone else, so could I. I deserved to celebrate our anniversary too, didn't I?

A fresh start.

I hurled the roses into the hallway trash and flagged a cab.

But the second the door closed, the dam broke.

That bastard.

I hadn't chased him—he'd come to me after Nicole left, heartbroken, whispering that he'd finally realized how blind he'd been, t. That he loved me, and t. That he was grateful I'd always stood by him. That night, we'd slept together.

When he'd officially asked me out, I'd been powerless to resist. I'd made him the king of my world, too afraid to defy even a look from him. So when he'd insisted we keep our relationship secret from the hospital staff, I'd probably agreed before he'd even finished speaking.

God, how stupid had I been?

All his promises were lies. He'd just been using me to get over her. And like an idiot, I'd thought I'd finally won him.

I was just a joker. A side character in their love story.

Disgusting.

I'd never forgive him. I needed to do something—anything—to erase this.

But where could I go? I had no friends. My life revolved around my mother's medical bills. No personal time, just grinding for more bonuses.

The taxi came to a stop outside a bar, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Scotch, neat," I ordered, slapping cash on the counter.

The bartender slid the glass toward me, and I downed it in one burning gulp. The alcohol seared my throat—but compared to the fire in my chest, it was nothing.

"Another," I called.

"Easy there, beautiful."

A low, velvety voice pulled my attention to the man beside me. I turned, squinting through the dim light—and my breath hitched.

God, he was gorgeous.

Sharp jawline, aristocratic nose, broad shoulders straining against a black dress shirt rolled to the elbows, revealing corded muscle. But it was his eyes that undid me—dark and intent, locking onto mine with predatory focus. My stomach flipped.

Dangerous. That was my first thought. I tried to look away, but it was like he'd cast a spell.

"Why drink alone?" he murmured, his voice a rumble that traveled straight to my core.

I sucked in a sharp breath, lifting my glass to hide the tremor in my hands. "Because my heart's broken," I said flatly, tossing back the drink. "And I want to numb the pain."

A lie. A challenge. A test.

I knew exactly what I was doing. Tonight, I didn't want to be alone. The sting of betrayal still gnawed at me, and this stranger—God, the way he looked at me—was the perfect distraction.

His gaze sharpened, tracking my every move. I could hear his breathing deepen.

My pulse roared. Was I really this desperate? Was this why Declan didn't want me? Shame curdled in my gut. I slammed the glass down and stood abruptly.

"Wait."

His hand closed around my wrist before I could turn, his grip firm but not painful. "Alcohol won't numb anything," he said, his voice rough as he plucked the glass from my fingers. Those ice-blue eyes pinned me in place—predatory, unyielding. "Talk to me instead."

He leaned closer. His lips were inches from mine.

Heat radiated from his touch, searing up my arm and pooling low in my belly. My thighs pressed together instinctively. His mouth was sin, and I was already falling.

"Kiss me," I demanded.

His breath hitched. "You sure?" His lips brushed my ear, and my brain short-circuited. Pure want shot down my spine, straight to my core.

Declan betrayed you. You're done. There's nothing wrong with this.

I fisted his shirt, tilting my face up. "Yes. I want you tonight."

A dark chuckle. "Good girl."

Then his arms banded around me, lifting me effortlessly. My nose bumped his chest, his heartbeat steady and strong against my cheek—and for the first time in hours, I forgot everything.

Pain. Morals. Betrayal.