Chapter 189: Game On

HOLLY’S POV

By the time Justin came to pick me up that morning, I was already dressed like I’d eaten power for breakfast and washed it down with a triple shot of revenge. My makeup? Immaculate. My curls? Gravity-defying. My outfit? The perfect balance of “don’t mess with me” and “you probably already have.”

I hadn’t slept a wink. My heart-to-heart with Kayla had cracked something open in me, and the research rabbit hole I dove into about David’s company? Let’s just say I went full FBI. Background checks, digital footprints, old business reviews—hell, I even stalked a few LinkedIn profiles like a woman possessed.

Justin advised me not to tell Norman the real reason I came to Chile. “He’ll think you’re just another obsessed, unhinged girl,” he’d warned.

Which, okay, guilty. But rude.

So we agreed on a nobler cover story: I was here to prove myself to my family. That I’d been underestimated my whole life, and this trip was my moment to shine.

I had to make it sound tragic yet noble. Desperate, yet empowered. Basically, like the plot of a tearjerker movie starring Anne Hathaway.

When Justin introduced me to Norman, I had already rehearsed my monologue in the mirror seventeen times.

He seemed intrigued, especially when I pulled out my tablet mid-conversation and launched into everything I’d learned about the potential partnership. I dropped buzzwords like “synergy” and “supply chain optimization” like I had a business degree from Harvard and not Google University.

I asked him…no, told him…to take me to the meeting. I wanted to prove myself. He agreed, mildly amused. I could tell he thought I’d break within ten minutes.

But the moment David walked in?

Oh, baby.

The air changed.

Finally, the cheese caught the rat. And it was delicious.

The look on his face when he saw me? Utter panic. Like a man realizing the spider in the room was actually under his shirt.

I loved every clenched muscle in his jaw. The twitch in his temple. The helpless frustration when our eyes met.

And that kiss earlier? Totally unplanned. Totally explosive. And totally his fault for having such unfairly soft lips. No wonder he’d been out here spreading those lips like communion wafers.

Let’s see him try that again.

“Hols, are you even listening to me?” Ava’s voice snapped me back to reality.

Shit. Ava.

I gripped my forehead, guilt sucker-punching me. I’d forgotten to call her. Sister of the year, I was not.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Where are you? It’s the holidays, Hols. This is the only time we get to spend together and you left?”

My brain did a somersault. The perfect lie danced in.

“It’s not what you think, Ava,” I said, coating my voice in calm.

“You remember Kayla, right?” I asked, praying she won’t ask for any deeper explanation.

“Yes,” she said, her tone softening, but still suspicious.

“Turns out she didn’t go missing, like we all thought. She’s been going through… a really rough time.”

Silence on the other end.

“I found her,” I added gently, “and I didn’t think twice before deciding to jump on the next available flight to come stay with her for a bit.”

More silence. Then: “Is she okay?”

I exhaled. “She’s hanging in there.”

“But you should’ve told me, Hols! I was worried. I thought you ran off or something.”

“Why would I do that?” I laughed, deflecting, even though, yeah… technically that’s exactly what I did.

From the background, I heard her trying to calm Jayden. Poor thing. Ava didn’t need more on her plate.

“You already have your hands full. I’ll be fine,” I told her.

“Keep in touch, okay?” she said, and I could hear her rummaging through something. “I’m sending you some money now. Use it to take care of Kayla. And yourself. I love you, okay?”

“I love you too,” I said, heart pinching as we hung up.

A ping broke the moment.

I opened the banking app...and my mouth hit the floor.

$5,000.

From Ava.

I literally squealed. “Oh my GOD.”

“I’m buying Kayla a new car,” I whispered like a cartoon villain. “And our son, Caden? A toy army. An empire. I’m going full Santa Claus in Prada.”

As I spun around to start planning their shopping spree in my head, I collided hard into someone.

My hand flew to my chest. “Fuck! You scared me—”

A young man stood behind me, tall-ish, nervous as hell, holding out a Starbucks cup like it might explode. His cheeks were redder than a fire hydrant.

“C-coffee… for y-you,” he stuttered.

Then, as if embarrassed by his own existence, he shoved the cup into my hand and bolted down the hallway like a cartoon character leaving a smoke outline behind him.

“Cute,” I muttered with a smirk. “Poor guy looked like I just threatened his lineage.”

I took a slow sip and walked back toward the office, only to find—

Empty.

David was gone.

Excuse me?

Not so fast, Romeo.

I had plans. This was war. This was art. I wasn't done emotionally waterboarding him yet.

Annoyed, I made my way to the desk Norman had pointed out earlier—the one strategically isolated next to his office. I slumped into the chair, instantly bored.

Five seconds later, I popped up again. Nope. Couldn’t do it.

I wandered into the open office space. A girl was packing her bag near the far end.

“Hey! I’m Holly,” I said with a sunny smile.

She beamed. “Oh hey! I’m Amber!”

Bubbly. Friendly. The human version of a golden retriever.

“Is it closing time already?” I asked, faking surprise.

She giggled. “Nah, Mr. David sent me to deliver a gift.”

Aha. A gift.

“To a client?” I asked, leaning in slightly.

Amber lowered her voice. “To a… girl. A beautiful one. It’s like, his thing. He always sends me to deliver these packages to women he’s trying to you know…”

“Get down with?” I offered, waggling my brows.

She nodded, exasperated. “Ugh, yes! I hate it. Those girls always act like they’re goddesses, and I’m just a delivery peasant.”

Oh Amber, sweet summer child. You’ve just stumbled into the center of an obsessed rom-com thriller and didn’t even know it.

“Well,” I said gently, “from now on, if he sends you on any of those errands, come to me instead. No matter how busy I am, I’ll handle it.”

Amber blinked. “Really?”

“Really.”

Her lip quivered. “Why?”

“Because I don’t like seeing good people trampled by bad bitches.”

She launched herself into a hug before I could react. Full-on clinger mode.

“We’re gonna be such good friends,” she whispered.

She handed me the gift bag and the address.

Perfect.

I ordered an Uber on the spot, already mapping my plan.

This girl David was chasing? She’d get the gift. But not the man.

Not on my watch.

As the car pulled up, I climbed in with a devilish grin and whispered to myself:

“Operation Stop David’s Whoring Days: Initiated.”