Chapter 5
The early morning sun seeped through the curtain gaps, casting a soft glow over the room. Scylla stirred, the warmth along her body a silent comfort, a steady rhythm of breath puffing gently against her neck. She blinked sleepily, slowly registering the solid weight of an arm wrapped around her waist.
And then it hit her.
Raelle.
Her heart pounded as flashes of the previous night filled her mind—
The pool. Raelle pulling her out, holding her close.
The dance. Their bodies pressed together, swaying to a rhythm that wasn't just the music.
And then—the kiss. Or kisses.
Scylla’s breath hitched as she remembered.
That first touch of her lips against Raelle’s—gentle, uncertain. Raelle’s hesitation, the way she’d frozen for half a second before finally giving in. Then, Raelle had wrapped her strong arms around Scylla, pulling her closer, and Scylla had melted into her, twining her arms around Raelle’s slender neck.
One kiss had led to another.
And another.
Scylla had wanted more.
But then—Raelle had stopped.
Firm hands had gripped Scylla’s wrists, gently pulling them away.
Scylla had whined, desperate to stay in her arms, to feel those lips on hers again, but Raelle had said no.
No more kisses. No more holding each other close.
Scylla had tried to argue, tried to pull Raelle back in, but Raelle had refused. Instead, she had held Scylla until she fell asleep, her arms still wrapped protectively around her.
Now, in the light of day, the happiness from those moments faded into something more bitter.
Because reality was setting in.
This had to end.
She should have stayed away from Raelle. She’d known it from the start. But no matter how much she tried, Scylla kept getting pulled back in, her gaze always searching for the blonde, her mind constantly wondering what it would be like to be with her.
And last night, she had gotten her answer.
It had felt incredible.
And it was never going to happen again.
Because Porter existed.
Porter, her fiancé. Porter, who would lose his damn mind if he knew she had spent the night kissing another woman. Porter, who was possessive as hell.
Scylla squeezed her eyes shut.
This wasn’t just about him. Both their families were expecting this marriage to merge their businesses—one big, powerful conglomerate. She had a duty, an obligation, a life that was already planned out for her.
And Raelle Collar?
She wasn’t part of that plan.
Before Scylla could process it further, Raelle stirred behind her.
A sleepy murmur, a deep breath—then Raelle’s hand slid up, just below Scylla’s breasts, pulling her closer.
Scylla’s stomach clenched.
If only she were free—if only she could turn around and wake Raelle with kisses along her jaw, her lips, her collarbone.
So this is what it feels like to want someone.
The thought burned through her.
Then—a loud knock on the door.
Raelle startled awake behind her.
Their eyes locked.
For a moment, everything else faded.
Until—another knock. Louder.
Raelle tore her gaze away first, sighing. She released Scylla, sitting up.
That’s when she noticed it—
The other bed in the room? Perfectly made. Untouched.
Anyone walking in would immediately know where Raelle had slept.
Shit.
Raelle jumped up, yanking the covers back on her bed and slapping the pillows into disarray before making her way to the door.
She pulled it open.
Porter.
"Good morning, Raelle."
Raelle forced a neutral expression,"Hi, Porter." She deliberately avoided his eyes.
Porter scanned the room, his gaze landing on Scylla, still lying in bed.
"Scylla, babe," he said smoothly, "we need to hit the road soon. Why don’t you get dressed and meet me for breakfast in half an hour? That enough time for you?"
Scylla sat up, her voice steady but clipped.
"Yeah, sure. I’ll be down by then."
Porter gave the room one final sweep, nodded, then left.
Raelle shut the door behind him.
Silence.
And then—awkward silence.
Neither of them spoke. Neither wanted to touch what happened last night.
Scylla cleared her throat ,"So, I guess I'll go and freshen up."
Raelle took a step forward "Scyl, are we not gonna talk about what happened last night?"
Scylla hesitated. "Raelle…"
Raelle’s jaw tightened.
Scylla sighed, rubbing her temple "Look, I was drunk, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry for what happened. I shouldn’t have kissed you."
She turned toward the bathroom, ready to escape.
Raelle wasn’t having it.
In four quick strides, she grabbed Scylla’s wrist, spinning her back around.
"I’m not buying that," Raelle said, voice low but firm. "That wasn’t just some random drunken moment. It was different. I felt it. And I know you did too."
Scylla kept her gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet Raelle’s eyes.
"You don’t know anything, Raelle," she whispered. "The truth is—I’m engaged to Porter. And what happened between us yesterday? It shouldn’t have happened. It doesn’t mean anything. We need to forget it."
Raelle’s breath caught.
Hot ice. That’s what those words felt like—scorching and freezing all at once.
She swallowed, forcing her face into a blank mask.
"Yeah. You’re right," Raelle muttered, voice cold. "It was nothing. A mistake. Thanks for clarifying that."
She turned, marching toward the door, but Scylla's rejection was ringing in her ears.
Just before she left, she snapped over her shoulder—
"Oh, and I hope we never cross paths again. Can’t say it’s been nice knowing you."
She slammed the door shut behind her.
Scylla’s broken "Raelle… please." was muffled by the wood.
Raelle forced herself to keep walking.
Don’t stop, Rae. Keep going.
By the time she reached Abigail and Tally’s room, she had shoved every emotion deep down, replacing them with her usual cocky smirk.
She swung the door open.
"Rise and shine, losers!"
A pillow flew across the room, hitting her square in the face.
"Go away, Shitbird. It’s too early," Abigail groaned.
Raelle snorted, catching the pillow and chucking it back.
Then she threw the curtains open, flooding the room with light.
If Raelle was gonna pretend she wasn’t falling apart inside, she was damn gonna do it well.