Chapter 2.2
1354 Words
Elijah had barely stepped through the door when Scarlett immediately moved to greet him, gently taking his suit jacket and bag from his hands. Even as she did, her mind churned with hesitation. She wanted to ask for permission to attend Camila’s celebration that evening, but she wasn’t sure if she should bring it up. She drew in a deep, steadying breath, then looked at her husband—only to jolt slightly when she realized he was already watching her.
“What? Do you have something to say?” he asked.
Scarlett forced a small smile.
“Camila invited me to her celebration later. Would it be alright if I went?” she asked softly, her voice warm, careful.
Elijah released a long sigh, his eyes drifting over her from head to toe as if evaluating her—almost as if he were embarrassed to let her be seen outside.
“Go if you want,” he said at last. “But listen carefully, Scarlett. If you so much as embarrass me in front of Camila’s guests, don’t bother coming home. Don’t ever show yourself to me again.” His words were sharp, heavy with warning.
Scarlett lowered her head. She felt the sting of the accusation—she had never caused trouble, so why did he think she would start now?
“I won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”
Elijah sank onto the couch and began removing his shoes. Scarlett immediately retrieved them and placed them neatly in the shoe rack.
“You’re lucky your cousin still cares about you,” he continued. “If she hadn’t asked me herself, I wouldn’t have let you go. I’ll allow it this time—but remember what I said.”
“Yes. Don’t worry. I won’t do anything at Camila’s celebration,” she replied quickly.
He didn’t answer.
Taking that as dismissal, Scarlett headed to their bedroom to prepare. She knew Camila would arrive any moment to pick her up, and she didn’t want to keep her waiting.
While Scarlett was in the shower, Camila arrived. She stepped inside with her signature confident smile, her eyes lighting up the moment they landed on Elijah.
“Hi, babe,” she purred, sliding onto his lap with practiced ease. Elijah’s lips curled into a grin.
“Where is she?” Camila asked.
“Still in the bedroom, getting ready,” Elijah replied.
Camila pulled him into a searing kiss. Elijah cupped her cheeks, deepening it, and his hand slid immediately into her blouse, fondling her breast. Camila let out a soft moan—unbothered, shameless even, despite being in the marital home of the woman preparing upstairs.
Elijah pushed her down on the sofa, lifting her skirt without hesitation.
“Someone might see us,” she whispered breathlessly.
Elijah didn’t stop. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her quickly to the guest room, slamming the door behind them.
Camila let out a low, playful laugh. “You really don’t pick a place anymore, do you? Even inside the house you share with Scarlett?”
Elijah smirked.
“This is my house. I’ll do whatever I want.”
He silenced her with another kiss, and her moans soon filled the room as he thrust into her, the bed creaking under the weight of their betrayal.
Minutes later, Scarlett finished dressing and went downstairs. The living room was empty.
“Where did they go?” she murmured to herself.
“Elijah?” she called again, checking the kitchen—still no one. But then she heard a faint rustle from the guest room. Her heartbeat quickened.
Scarlett knew Elijah and Camila weren’t particularly close. There was no reason for them to be together in a room—especially with the door closed.
She approached quietly, listening. No more sounds. Slowly, she pushed the door open and scanned the room.
Nothing. Empty.
“Love, what are you doing there?” Elijah’s voice came from behind her.
Scarlett turned and saw him standing with Camila right beside him. She gave a small smile and shook her head.
“Nothing. I was just wondering where you two went.”
“I took Camila to the garden,” Elijah answered smoothly. “Are you ready? You’re supposed to leave soon.”
Scarlett blinked. He was suddenly… gentle. Too gentle. Something felt off, but she forced a nod. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go, cousin,” Camila said brightly. She approached Scarlett with a sweet smile, taking her hand. “Don’t worry, Mr. Logan. I’ll take care of your wife. I promise to return her to you completely intact.” She winked at Elijah, who gave her a subtle smirk in return.
Scarlett didn’t notice.
They arrived at the hotel bar where Camila’s guests were already waiting—most of them designers, renowned and confident.
“Sit here,” Camila instructed. “Drink whatever you want. I already told your husband. Eat whatever you like. Most of these guests are designers too. Talk to them if you want—but since you haven’t designed in five years, I’m not sure how much you still know.”
Scarlett just nodded.
“If you need anything, just tell me. Enjoy the night, Scarlett. I’ll go talk to the others.”
“Thank you,” Scarlett replied. Camila gave a sly little smile before walking away.
Scarlett scanned the room. Feeling a little nervous, she grabbed a wine glass, filled it, and took a sip. She wasn’t used to gatherings—she had spent the last five years at home, rarely attending any event. Tonight, she felt painfully aware of how out of place she was.
“Drink, miss?” a man offered, handing her another glass.
Scarlett took it politely.
“Why are you alone here? Why not join them and enjoy the night?” he asked.
“I don’t know anyone here except Camila,” she answered.
“Oh, so you’re the cousin she mentioned? That must mean you’re good at designing too.”
Scarlett smiled faintly. She used to be—but after getting married, she had let her dream wither.
“I used to be good. But since I got married, I stopped pursuing it.”
“You’re married?” he asked.
She nodded, stopping herself before she could mention Elijah’s name.
Moments later, Camila approached again.
“Cousin, in case you get sleepy, I already booked a room for you. I might not be able to drive you home. Here’s your room card.” She handed Scarlett a keycard with the room number written on it.
Scarlett thanked her, then returned to her conversation with the man. They talked easily—especially about design. It felt refreshing to speak about something she once loved.
Eventually, Scarlett excused herself to use the restroom.
She stared at her reflection—her cheeks were red from the alcohol, but she wasn’t drunk. She knew her limits.
When she returned, the man was still there. She took another drink—but suddenly, heat spread through her body. Her vision swayed. The room tilted.
She blinked, shook her head, but the dizziness only grew stronger.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, heading back to the restroom. She clutched the sink, breathing heavily. Her body felt too warm. Too weak.
Had she really drunk that much?
“Are you alright?” the man asked when she stepped back out.
“I’m fine. Maybe I drank more than I thought.”
“Your tolerance must be low. You probably didn’t notice—you poured Black Label into your wine glass earlier.”
Scarlett stared at the table. The dark bottle sat there, unmistakably different.
Did she really not notice?
She wanted to look for Camila, to tell her she needed to sit down or rest—but Camila had vanished again.
So Scarlett left the bar area, clutching her room card, searching for her room number.
She needed to lie down. The dizziness was spreading too fast… too unnaturally.
Something wasn’t right.
But she kept walking, unaware of the danger waiting behind her.
- Writer
