Chapter 9

In one week and a few days of quitting my job, all I did was nothing other than avoid everyone. It was best that way. I didn’t assist Colton in running the hotel like his dad had said because as much as I didn’t want to, he also wouldn’t let me.

So my routine remained predictable–wake up, eat, speak to Jojo and sleep.

I stood by the shiny granite counter, placing blackberries on the large plate of omelet, the aroma hovering around the kitchen. This was the first time I’d left my room, and it happened because the female staff who served me was given some weeks off. I’d been eating a lot recently. My stomach also wouldn’t stop growling. Stress, I guess.

“Domestic already?” Celeste’s voice rasped from behind. “I didn’t expect you to still be here. Figured you’d have run by now.”

I tilted my head. A bonnet wrapped round her head, leaving a thin space between her contoured face and her forehead. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“You know most people have self-respect.” She leaned on the counter and adjusted the tip of her red singlet. “Sleeping with your own stepbrother. Aren’t you ashamed?”

“We weren’t stepsiblings when it happened.” I spilled honey on the omelet, trying not to let her words get to me.

Her eyes raked over me. “Doesn’t change what you are now or what you did.”

Dropping the can of honey, I folded my hands below my breast—which had gotten fuller over the week, making my bra tighter than usual—then turned to her. “Did you just come here to be miserable with me or do you have a point?”

Her head fell back as she let out a hideous laugh, making her neck which had no makeup visible. “The point is, save yourself the humiliation.” She dropped her head down. “Colton doesn’t keep anyone around. I’m the only one who's ever mattered to him.”

“If that were true you wouldn't be saying this.”

“Careful.” She smiled and pulled away from the counter. “You don’t know what this family is capable of doing.”

My hand trembled below my chest, I brought them down. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“Yes.” She started walking out. “Daddy’s little girl,” she said in a singing tone. “You don't belong to Colton.”

Adrenaline rushed through my veins and I jerked my head up. “What did you just say?” My breath spiked. “Say it again.”

“Excuse me?” She turned, pursed her lips, her eyebrows shooting up.

Rushing towards her, I fisted my hand. “Was it you? The picture. Was it you?” She frowned, giving me a blank gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking—”

My fist struck her face. She gasped, staggering backwards as her hand shielded her face. I dashed over to her and yanked her bonnet off, dragging her by the hair. She grabbed my shirt, struggling to release herself from my grip. Her nails dug into my skin and I screamed. Heat crawled over my skin and I dragged her to the counter, the plate of omelet crinkling to the floor as I slammed her face on the cold surface.

“Let me go you bitch!” She let out a harsh breath, her mouth widening and nearing my skin. I grabbed a knife from the knife holder, attempting to pry her hand off my skin with the blade.

“Poppy.” Colton yanked the knife away from me. I hadn’t even heard the door open or his footsteps approaching. He flung his suit jacket to the floor and shoved Celeste’s hand away from my body, rounding my waist with his forearm.

As he pulled me away, his loosened tie swung against my shoulder and I dragged and threw it off.

“Poppy stop,” he barked.

My legs flailed in the air and I struggled to break free, while still throwing punches in the air. “She knows something. Colton she just–”

“Crazy bitch!” Celeste jumped on Colton, tugging my hair. I grunted and Colton hurled her off, still holding me.

“Get out.”

Panting, she pressed her hand on her cheek, then stared at it. “She attacked me!”

“I said get out.” Colton sounded angry now. Her nostrils flared as she stormed out of the kitchen.

“She called me daddy’s little girl then said I don’t belong to you. Those exact words from the text.”

He was silent for a minute, then he exhaled, moved me to his shoulder and started leaving the kitchen. “Maybe you're hearing things.” Once out of the kitchen, he started climbing the stairs. “Celeste is cruel, not stupid. She won’t threaten a Ross.”

Terror shot through me. “I’m not a Ross!” I began kicking my feet and beating my hands against his body. “Your girlfriend is threatening me because of you! Because I slept with you!”

He gripped my feet with one hand then kicked his room door open and dropped me inside, both of us panting. No one said a word, just glances—until he finally spoke, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“You kissed her the other day.”

“Is that all this is about?” He stepped closer, leaving no space between us.

My gaze flicked to his lips. God, help me. Despite my throbbing head, a jolt of desire still heated my body. I couldn’t tell how the space between us vanished, I just knew that my lips were about to crash on his.

The door busted open and I shrank back, my heart pounding.

“Colton….” Eugene paused when he saw us. His eyes went from me to Colton. I shifted my gaze to the floor. “I need a word with you.”

Colton peered at me before leaving.

What was I about to do? Was I really going to kiss him? In the midst of this chaos? I sank into a squat, placing my head on my palm. I’m so fucked.

And why the hell was I still here? I rose, sprinting towards the door but then I paused.

The drawer beside his bed was open and I saw something familiar. I strolled over and dug my hand in then picked it out. My face scorched. Why did Colton have my childhood picture in his drawer, how did he get it?