Chapter 2.3
1255 Words
Scarlett staggered slightly as she walked down the hallway, her vision tilting as she searched for the room number on her keycard. Her body felt heavier with every step, the warmth spreading through her veins making her head swim.
From a distance, Camila watched her with a curled smile, eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction as Scarlett tried to make sense of the hotel’s corridor.
“That’s her room number,” Camila said quietly to the man beside her, handing him the card with the written details. “Make sure you do your job properly.”
The man smirked, his gaze lingering on the picture of Scarlett in his hand.
“The drink she had earlier is drugged. She won’t fight back. Her body will be craving s*x in a few minutes—so you can do whatever you want.”
The man nodded.
Camila turned when Hazel arrived.
“Auntie,” she greeted sweetly.
“Is the plan done?” Hazel asked, her eyes sharp.
Camila’s lips curled into a victorious smile as she nodded.
“Scarlett already drank the drugged alcohol. She’s inside her room now. I’ll send this man after her.”
Hazel nodded approvingly.
“Just make sure everything is done cleanly. And make sure Elijah never finds out we’re behind this.”
Camila’s grin deepened.
She signaled the man to follow Scarlett, then immediately returned to the bar—because Elijah was already on his way back. Her smile widened at the thought of what was happening in Scarlett’s hotel room at that very moment.
Meanwhile, Scarlett had collapsed onto the bed the moment she entered the dim room. Her skin burned, unbearably warm despite the cold air-conditioned room. She ran her hands over her arms, trying to calm the crawling heat spreading beneath her skin.
Minutes later, the door opened and a man stepped inside.
“Damn it!” he muttered.
Scarlett heard him but couldn’t distinguish his face through the haze. Everything was blurry, her eyelids heavy. The man threw his suit jacket onto the floor with frustration.
“What are you doing here? Who are you?” he demanded.
The sound of his voice—deep, familiar—made Scarlett smile. She moved toward him unsteadily and pressed her lips to his.
“Love…” she whispered, breathless.
The man didn’t push her away. They were both intoxicated—one with alcohol, the other with a drug neither was aware of. He pulled her closer, and soon, he was kissing her back with equal intensity, hands tracing her body as the drug took deeper hold.
Their breaths tangled. Their minds blurred. Their control dissolved.
—
Back at the bar, Elijah arrived with a tense expression.
“Where’s Scarlett?” he asked, scanning the room.
Camila pretended to look surprised.
“She’s not with you?” she asked innocently. “She left earlier—she seemed like she’d had too much to drink. I thought you were the one who accompanied her to her room. If it wasn’t you… then who’s with Scarlett?”
Elijah’s brows furrowed, jaw tightening in alarm.
“Where is her room?” he asked sharply.
Camila told him the room number immediately, feigning concern while hiding her smile.
As soon as Elijah left, Camila followed, eager to witness the result of her plan.
When they reached the hallway, they didn’t even have to get close—Scarlett’s moans echoed faintly from behind the door. Elijah’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. Camila crossed her arms over her chest, smiling triumphantly.
“At last,” she whispered to herself. “Elijah will finally be free from you, Scarlett. He’s mine.”
“Scarlett!” Elijah shouted, kicking the door open.
The room was dark, and the sudden burst of light shocked the woman inside—she screamed as the brightness filled the space. Elijah stormed inside, grabbing at the sheets.
“You shameless woman! I trusted you enough to let you go out—and this is what you do?!” he roared as he yanked the blanket away.
But he froze.
It wasn’t Scarlett on the bed.
Camila’s arms dropped from her confident pose, her expression breaking as she saw the wrong woman in the room.
The man she hired stared back at her in confusion. He had only seen Scarlett's silhouette earlier and assumed it was her; the darkness had fooled him completely.
“Where is Scarlett? Who are these people?” Elijah snapped, turning toward Camila.
Camila quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the room and shutting the door behind them.
“This is the room I told her. I don’t know where she went,” she said with a confused expression—one she forced to hide her mounting panic. “Let’s just leave it. Maybe she already went home.”
Elijah’s jaw flexed, but after a moment, he nodded stiffly.
Camila dragged him back toward the bar, though her mind churned with irritation.
‘Did she go home?’
Her teeth gritted.
She and Hazel had gone through all that trouble—just for Scarlett to vanish at the last moment?
—
Meanwhile, Scarlett awoke in the early morning, the lingering dizziness still clouding her head. She winced, pressing a hand to her temple. The ache pulsed sharply.
When she remembered what had happened the night before, a blush crept onto her cheeks. She turned to the side—only to find the bed empty.
She frowned.
“Where did he go?” she murmured.
Despite the dizziness, she rose slowly, calling out, “Love?” thinking Elijah might be in the bathroom. But it was empty. She searched the entire room—nothing.
Did he… leave her?
When she checked the time—six in the morning—she wondered if Elijah had simply gone home early.
Why didn’t he wake me?
Still feeling warm from the memory of their intimacy, Scarlett dressed and headed home. She smiled to herself on the way, recalling how intense Elijah had been last night. It had been a long time since he’d touched her with that kind of hunger.
Her heart fluttered.
But when she arrived home, Elijah wasn’t in their room. She immediately asked one of the housemaids.
“Did Elijah already leave for work?”
“No, ma’am. He hasn’t come home since last night,” the maid replied.
Scarlett froze.
What?
He hadn’t come home?
But… they had been together last night. She was certain of it.
Moments later, Elijah finally arrived. He looked exhausted, as if still recovering from alcohol.
“Where did you go?” Scarlett asked, her voice tinged with worry.
Elijah stared at her.
“You… did you go home last night? Why didn’t you tell your cousin? She was worried sick. You should’ve told her you were leaving.”
Scarlett’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Go home last night?
But they had been together in the hotel room. Hadn’t they?
Her chest tightened.
“Where did you sleep?” she asked carefully, anxiety creeping into her voice.
“I stayed at the bar with some of Camila’s guests,” Elijah answered. “And what you did was embarrassing—leaving without saying anything.”
Scarlett’s breath hitched.
Her skin went cold.
If Elijah wasn’t the man she had been with last night…
Then who was the man with the same voice?
The man who kissed her?
Touched her?
Scarlett’s fingers trembled.
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest.
‘Who… was that man?’
- Writer
