My Toxin

Chapter 26

The villa was alive with energy, people milling about the terrace, music pounding through the speakers, and laughter echoing across the pool. It was the kind of night that should have been an escape—a distraction from all the tension of the past few days. But even as the party unfolded around me, I couldn't shake the weight in my chest. After confronting Marjorie about kissing Jordan, I had made a decision to pull back, to stop running after her like I always did.

I told myself it was the right move. I couldn't keep putting myself in situations where I second-guessed everything—her intentions, her feelings, even my own. Ayo had been blunt with me earlier: "You can't keep letting her play you like this. If you're done, be done." And I wanted to be. I really did.

But wanting and doing are two different things.

I stayed by the bar, nursing a whiskey, my eyes scanning the crowd as I tried to focus on anything but her. Ayo was doing his usual thing—hyping up the DJ and flirting with a blonde who was hanging on his every word. Nicole, clearly pissed, was dancing with some tall, green-eyed guy she'd picked up earlier. Everyone seemed locked in their own little drama, but no matter how hard I tried to focus on them, my attention kept drifting to her.

Marjorie.

She was by the other side of the bar, laughing with Nikos. His hand rested on the back of her chair, and every so often, she leaned in close enough for their shoulders to brush. Her backless dress clung to her figure, showing just enough to make it impossible not to look, especially when the dim lighting caught the glow of her skin. I told myself I didn't care what she was doing or who she was with. But I wasn't convincing anyone, least of all myself.

"You're staring," Ayo's voice came from behind me. I turned to find him smirking, already halfway through another drink. "So much for being done."

"I'm not staring," I said flatly, taking a sip of my whiskey.

"Right," he drawled, leaning against the bar next to me. "Look, man, it's your life. But if you're gonna keep saying you're over her, maybe stop glaring at every guy who looks her way."

I didn't respond, letting my silence speak for itself. Ayo chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder before walking off, probably to work his charm on another girl. I turned back to the bar, trying to focus on my drink, but my eyes betrayed me, drifting toward her again.

She was still talking to Nikos, her hand now resting lightly on his arm. He leaned closer, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh, the kind of laugh that always hit me like a punch to the chest. Then, as if she felt my gaze, she turned her head and met my eyes.

There it was. That look. A challenge.

Her lips curled into a small, knowing smile, and she shifted in her seat, crossing her legs so the slit in her dress revealed more of her thigh. I saw the glint of satisfaction in her eyes—she knew exactly what she was doing, and she wasn't about to stop until I cracked.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, downing the rest of my drink. I told myself to walk away, to let her play her games with Nikos while I found someone—anyone—else to talk to. But my feet didn't listen. Before I knew it, I was crossing the room, weaving through the crowd, heading straight for her.

When I reached the bar, I didn't bother with pleasantries. "Nikos," I said coolly, offering a tight smile. "Mind if I steal Marjorie for a dance?"

Nikos glanced at her, then back at me. He hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing his options, but Marjorie had already made the decision for him. She stood, slipping her hand into mine. "I'd love to dance," she said, her voice smooth and confident.

I led her to the dance floor, the slow paced Haitan music guided our bodies as we ground against one another in a romantic tango. My hands settled dangerously close to her ass, and hers looped around my neck. Her warmth against my made it hard to think straight, but I wasn't about to let her know that.

"You're playing dirty," I said, my voice low enough that only she could hear.

Marjorie tilted her head, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what you're doing," I shot back, tightening my grip slightly as I guided her movements. "And it's working."

She smiled, her eyes meeting mine with that same maddening mix of mischief and allure. "Good. I was starting to think you didn't care anymore."

"Care?" I echoed bitterly. "Of course I care, Marjorie. But I'm not going to keep chasing you just to feel like a fool."

Her expression faltered for a moment, but she recovered quickly, leaning in so her lips brushed against my ear. "Who said I want you to stop chasing me?"

Her words sent a shiver down my spine, and I hated how easily she could get under my skin. She turned in my arms, pressing her back against me as her hips moved to the rhythm of the music. My hands slid lower, resting on her hips as she ground against me. I could feel her smile even though I couldn't see it, and I knew I was losing the battle.

"You're impossible," I murmured, my voice thick with frustration and something else I didn't want to name.

"And you love it," she replied, her tone teasing.

Maybe I did. But that didn't mean I had to admit it.

The song ended too soon, and she stepped back, turning to face me with a smug look that made me want to either kiss her or walk away. I settled for the latter, letting go of her waist and stepping back. "Thanks for the dance," I said, my tone clipped.

She looked surprised, but I didn't stick around to see her reaction. I needed air. Again.

The rest of the party played out like a fever dream. Chanel confronted Michael in one of the upstairs bedrooms, her voice cutting through the music as she ended things once and for all. Nicole stormed off the dance floor after Ayo ignored her attempts to make him jealous, leaving him looking more confused than guilty. And somewhere in the chaos, Kemi disappeared with Isabella, leaving me to wonder just how far the night's messiness would stretch.

By the time I found myself back outside, leaning against the terrace railing with a fresh drink in hand, the villa was quieter. The party was winding down, but my thoughts were still racing. I didn't know where things stood with Marjorie, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out. All I knew was that this dance we were doing—this endless push and pull—was going to destroy me if I didn't figure out how to break free.

But for now, I wasn't ready to let her go. Not yet.