Without warning, I reached down and gave her ass a hard smack.
"That's for spray painting my car," I said.
Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You're such a caveman."
"Caveman? How about this?" I said, smacking her...
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Esmeralda's POV:
"I can't believe you'd say such things to Trev's girlfriend!" I said, staring at the muscular man in front of me, my voice still laced with disbelief. His eyes flicked to his wrist, the spot where I had grabbed him and pulled him away earlier. His attention was now back on me, but something in his dark gaze made me uneasy.
"Don't get involved in this, Cherry," he said, his tone dripping with warning. "It's not your fight. You'd never understand."
Before I could respond, Caleb closed the space between us, cornering me against the wall with his arms trapping me on either side. His proximity was suffocating, yet there was an odd thrill in provoking him. I was usually the one who avoided confrontation, but his words had struck a nerve.
"Girls understand each other," I shot back, my voice wavering slightly. "She looked uncomfortable, Caleb. You went too far."
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, "That's the difference, Cherry. You're a girl. She's a woman—a deceitful one, but a woman nonetheless."
A shiver ran down my spine, my body trembling under his intimidating presence. "I'm 18, a legal adult. I'm starting college next week, so don't you dare talk down to me like that!"
I pressed my hands against his bare chest in defiance, feeling the hard muscles beneath my palms. To my surprise, Caleb backed off instantly, straightening up with a humorless smirk.
"Sure, say whatever you want," he chuckled darkly, his voice dripping with condescension. "Let's see how long you last in college."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me fuming, my mind racing to make sense of his cryptic words. How long I'd last in college? What the hell did that mean? Silverstone University was prestigious—no drugs, no trouble, just rich heritage and royalty. Right?
I forced myself to breathe deeply, trying to shake off his unsettling words. Mom went there, so did her parents, and Gwen and Trevor too. They did fine. I'll be fine, won't I? But doubts crept in, reminding me of the mess I got into last year. I can't go through that again. I won't.
As I ascended the stairs to my room, trying to put Caleb's words out of my mind, I heard voices near the entrance—Mom and Gwen. Their hushed conversation stopped me in my tracks, and I couldn't help but eavesdrop.
"That was completely unacceptable, Gwen," Mom's voice hissed with frustration. "I can't believe you picked the wrong fork in front of the prince! What had you so flustered? Do you know everyone was whispering about it afterward? I overheard the other mothers laughing at me for raising you like this."
Mom handed her coat to the maids, her voice still tight with disbelief. Gwen just sighed, visibly exhausted. But beyond the exhaustion, there was something else—hurt. Was it Mom's harsh words, or was there something deeper bothering her?
"Mom, I'm not in the mood for this," Gwen said, grabbing a glass of water from Ellis. "I'm going to head up and check on Esme."
"You don't need to worry about Esme," Mom snapped quietly, her voice low so the staff wouldn't hear. "You need to worry about the explanation you owe me!"
"No, you need to worry about Esme!" Gwen shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. "You didn't even care about her arrival. You chose that ball over your own daughter!"
My heart sank at her words. Gwen wasn't wrong, was she?
"Gweneth, watch your tone!" Mom warned, raising her voice slightly. The tension in the room was palpable.
Before the argument could escalate further, Trevor walked in, saving Gwen from the confrontation. "Gwen, Uncle's on the line. He needs something. Could you fax him those papers? It's important."
Gwen shot Trevor a grateful look and hurried out of the room, leaving Mom fuming quietly.
I stood frozen for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling over me like a storm cloud. It was overwhelming—Caleb, Mom, Gwen. My mind replayed everything, from Caleb's unsettling confrontation to the hurt in Gwen's voice. As much as I wanted to help everyone, I felt powerless. Eventually, I drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The next morning, I was jolted awake by a burst of giggles and a flurry of kisses.
"My baby's back!" Mom shrieked, kissing my cheeks. Her excitement was infectious, and despite the emotional weight from last night, I couldn't help but smile.
"Rise and shine, princess," Gwen added, tickling me until I squirmed in bed, laughter bubbling out despite myself.
The day unfolded like old times—Mom, Gwen, and I spent the morning getting ready together, doing each other's makeup, gossiping, and slipping back into the comfortable rhythm of sisterhood.
Afterward, we hit the boutiques in town, indulging in a shopping spree. Gwen picked out elegant outfits while Mom critiqued each choice with her sharp eye for fashion. "That shade suits you, darling," she'd say, her voice full of approval. We spent hours trying on dresses, matching accessories, and complimenting each other's picks.
Next, we headed to the salon for manicures and facials. Gwen and I shared a quiet moment, holding hands under the dryer as we talked about the pressures of living up to expectations. "Mom wants perfection, but you know she loves you," Gwen said softly, her eyes kind but understanding. I nodded, hoping she was right. Mom wasn't easy, but she believed in me. I just had to prove her right.
As the day ended, we returned home, exhausted but content. We lounged in the living room, Mom lecturing us on poise and elegance while Gwen and I exchanged knowing glances, stifling our giggles.
That night, after Gwen and Mom had retired, I lay in bed, replaying the day's events in my head. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions—Caleb's taunts, Mom's expectations, Gwen's vulnerability. I sighed, sinking deeper into my pillow, the weight of it all pressing down on me.
Suddenly, I felt the bed shift. The mattress dipped on the opposite side, and my heart skipped a beat. Slowly, I turned my head, dread creeping up my spine.
There, lying beside me, was a muscular figure. His silhouette was barely visible in the dim light, but I knew exactly who it was.
"Caleb?" I whispered, my voice barely audible, as fear and confusion warred within me.
The room seemed to shrink around us, the air thick with unspoken tension.
And then, in the silence, his voice rumbled softly, dangerously, "Go to sleep, Cherry. We'll talk in the morning."
