My Toxin

Chapter 24

The villa buzzed with quiet activity that morning. Cleaning staff moved swiftly through the halls, tidying up the chaos from the night before. The air smelled faintly of fresh lemons and disinfectant, and I could hear the faint clatter of dishes being restocked in the kitchen. I stood on the balcony, nursing a coffee, staring out at the horizon as the sun climbed higher, painting the sea in golden streaks.

Isabella had left early to meet her friends, leaving me to face the day with the group. We'd decided on a trip to the Archaeological Museum to give the staff space to work, but I couldn't shake the tension that seemed to cling to all of us, unspoken but undeniably there.

Kemi had been unusually restless all morning, pacing and mumbling under her breath like she was holding onto a secret that was ready to explode. Every glance she threw my way carried an edge, her eyes glinting with some kind of challenge. I'd ignored her as best I could—like I'd done the whole trip—but I could feel her frustration mounting. She was pushing, itching for a reaction, and I wasn't going to give it to her. Not today.

The warm breeze greeted us as we stepped outside and made our way to the museum. The group splintered into smaller clusters—Ayo and Nicole laughing up front, Chanel and Marjorie lingering behind. I caught snippets of their conversation, and the way Marjorie's voice dropped to a whisper caught my attention. I slowed my pace, just enough to catch a few words.

"Chanel, can I talk to you about something?" Marjorie asked, her usual confidence replaced by something uncertain.

"Of course," Chanel replied, her voice calm and supportive. She had that way about her, always knowing when someone needed a listening ear.

"It's about Kemi," Marjorie admitted, her voice shaky.

I didn't catch Chanel's response, but I didn't need to. The tension between Marjorie and Kemi had been obvious for days, and if Marjorie was finally opening up about it, I wasn't going to interrupt. I moved ahead to catch up with Nicole, who had fallen into step beside me.

"Alex," she said, her tone more serious than usual. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I replied, bracing myself for whatever was coming next.

"It's about Ayo," she began, glancing ahead where he was joking with Chanel. "I really like him, Alex. I didn't think I would, but I've caught feelings. And... I don't think he feels the same. What do I do?"

I let out a sigh, my mind torn between giving her honest advice and not wanting to betray Ayo's trust. "Nicole, you deserve someone who wants you as much as you want them. If Ayo's not ready for that, then you need to decide if you're okay with it staying casual. But you have to talk to him, no games."

She nodded, her frustration evident. "Thanks, Alex. I just needed to hear it from someone who gets it."

"No problem," I said, trying to focus on anything other than how eerily similar her situation felt to my own.

By the time we reached the museum, I was already feeling the strain of the day. The exhibits were incredible, the ancient artefacts telling stories of a time long gone, but my mind kept drifting. Kemi, of course, was relentless. Every time I turned around, she was there—hovering, staring, waiting for an opening to start something. I kept shutting her down, each deflection building her agitation.

Marjorie, meanwhile, had caught the attention of a tall, sun-kissed man with dark curls and a suave smile. I saw them talking near one of the exhibits, his body language confident as he leaned closer to her. My stomach tightened as I watched him flash her an easy smile, his accent smooth and undeniably Greek.

"Perhaps we could continue this conversation over a drink?" he asked her, his tone dripping with charm.

Before Marjorie could answer, I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the moment. "She's with us. Thanks for the offer, but we're on a group outing."

The guy raised an eyebrow, clearly sizing me up. "Well, if you change your mind, the offer stands," he said before walking away.

Marjorie turned to me, her expression unreadable. "What was that about?"

"Just looking out for you," I said casually, but the jealousy in my voice betrayed me.

She shrugged, her tone light. "He was just being friendly."

"Right," I muttered, forcing myself to look away. Friendly, my ass.

Kemi's voice broke through the tension, sharp and demanding. "Alex, we need to talk. Now."

I turned to her, already exhausted. "Kemi, this isn't the time or place."

But she was relentless, stepping closer with fire in her eyes. "I apologised for kissing you, okay? I said I was sorry, but you're still treating me like I don't exist. Why? What do I have to do to get you to actually talk to me?"

My jaw tightened. I could feel everyone's eyes on us, the air in the room thick with tension. "You didn't apologise because you were sorry," I said, my voice low but firm. "You apologised because I threatened to tell Marjorie. You're not the victim here, Kemi. Stop pretending you are."

Her eyes narrowed, but instead of backing down, she stepped closer. "You think you're so much better than me, don't you? You're a coward, Alex. Too scared to admit you liked the kiss."

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. "You're sick, Kemi. You need help."

Her laugh was sharp and bitter. "Sick? At least I'm honest about what I want. You're just as fucked up as I am. You think Marjorie respects you? She kissed Jordan that night you ran away like a little bitch."

The words hit me like a slap, but I refused to let her see it. Instead, I took a step back, my voice colder than I thought possible. "You're done, Kemi. This stops now."

Before the situation could escalate further, a museum staff member approached, their expression stern. "Is there a problem here?"

I forced myself to smile, though my blood was boiling. "No problem. We were just leaving."

The group followed me out in stunned silence, the tension palpable. As we stepped into the bright sunlight, I glanced back at Kemi. Her expression was a mix of triumph and desperation, and I realised with a sinking feeling that this wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.