Carried away? That was his excuse? My anger surged at his words, and I pulled my hand free from his hold, stepping back.

“That’s it?” I shot back, my voice shaking with fury. “You got carried away?” I shook my head, almost laughing at how ridiculous it sounded. “Do you even hear yourself, Carter? You used me, and now you’re acting like it was just a mistake!”

His jaw clenched, but he remained silent. He just stood there, looking at me as if he expected me to calm down and forgive him. As if I could just overlook everything that had just happened.

“No,” I said firmly, my voice gaining strength. “This has to stop. Whatever this is between us... it needs to stay professional.” I paused, studying his face. It was hard to read, but I could see a flicker of something in his eyes—anger, perhaps. “And if you need any intimate pictures for your little act, Photoshop can handle that just fine.”

That seemed to strike a chord. Carter’s eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. But he still didn’t argue. He just stood there, watching me with a tense expression, clearly displeased with what I’d just said.

I could feel the tension in the air, but I didn’t care. I needed space; I needed to get away from him.

“At least let me give you a ride home,” he said, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

I shook my head, the hurt and anger still simmering inside me. “No, I don’t want anything from you right now. I’ll call a taxi.” My tone was icy, and I noticed his jaw tighten at my words.

“Lina—” he began, but I cut him off.

“I need to be away from you,” I said, turning on my heel again, determined to put as much distance between us as I could.

As I walked away, I could feel his gaze on me, but he didn’t follow this time. And that was just fine. I needed to breathe, to think—anything to clear my mind.