Chapter 23 Chapter 23.

Chapter 23 Chapter 23.
(Rebecca)

"Get a fucking grip of yourself, Rebecca!" I cursed under my breath, exasperated with myself. Why did my body react so helplessly to his touch? It was infuriating!

I headed toward the room where my new partner waited, the tension in my chest pulling me in every direction. Pushing the door open, I found him sprawled on the bed, his hands resting beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling like he was lost in thought.

Clearing my throat to announce my arrival, his eyes quickly darted toward me. A smile broke across his face, illuminating the dim room as he sat up. "You’re back," he said, rising effortlessly from the bed and padding over to me.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.

He approached me, his fingers brushing through my hair, tucking a loose strand behind my ear. The touch sent an unwanted shiver down my spine, and I instinctively stepped back, creating distance between us. Confusion mixed with disappointment flickered across his face.

“Umm…” I began, my mind racing, searching for something, anything to fill the awkward silence. “Shouldn’t you be planning your strategy on how to pair back with your original partner? You know, that’s how you win this round, and I can’t help you with that because I'm not her.” 

“Yes, but…” He closed the distance again, his fingers trailing slowly down my arm. “We could always have a little fun first. The game doesn’t mind some enjoyment, does it?”

My eyes widened in disbelief as I processed his words. Without thinking, I instinctively stepped back once more, leaving him in a cloud of disappointment. I struggled for a coherent response, but all that slipped from my lips was, "Water."

He raised an eyebrow, confusion evident. 

"I'm just... thirsty. I’ll grab some water and come back," I stammered, desperate for an escape. To my surprise, he smiled kindly. 

“Of course. It’s normal for some girls to feel shy,” he replied, his voice soft. “Go get that water. You’ll feel better.”

He gave my arm a gentle pat, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of gratitude and frustration. “I’ll be here, waiting for you," he added with a wink at me. 

Looking at him for a few seconds, I turned and left the room.

As I walked farther down the hallway, the click of my heels echoed softly against the polished tiles, each step resonating with the tumult swirling within me.

What the hell is wrong with me? I could’ve gone along with it, played the part, secured the edge I desperately needed. But no. My stupid heart...

I paused near the water dispenser, staring blankly at the bubbling tank, the cup in my hand suddenly feeling like a weight rather than a relief.

Why did it feel so wrong? He was attractive, charming, and willing. The perfect opportunity to leverage. But the moment his fingers brushed against me, it felt...empty. Like a sin. Like an overwhelming sense of disgust washed over me.

Frustration bubbled within, and I shook my head as if to physically dislodge the unwanted feelings. I’m not supposed to care. This is a game. We’re here to win. Seduce, distract, dominate. That’s how it works.

Yet, despite my mental pep talk, my chest felt constricted. I took a sip of water, the coolness barely quelling the whirlwind inside me.

I could fake anything—smiles, laughter, even feigned interest—but not this. Not intimacy. Not sex. Not with just anyone.

Then, amidst the silence of the hallway, a moan echoed, slicing through my thoughts like a knife. Was I imagining things? I stilled my breath, trying to concentrate, but there it was again, a series of moans that made my stomach churn.

Rolling my eyes, I tossed the plastic cup aside, my earlier frustration flaring anew. I turned to flee, to escape the disturbing atmosphere, when a sight I wished I could unsee emerged before me.

Two figures staggered into view. A man and a woman locked into a heated embrace, bodies molded together as if they were part of a single entity. His hands roamed in places that should have been sacred, gripping her waist, gliding along her back as if he needed to memorize every curve of her form. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, nails digging in, every soft, breathy sound escaping her lips promptly swallowed by his insistent kiss.

They were oblivious, lost in their own intoxicating world, consumed by heat and lust.

The sounds of their intimacy hit me like a slap, freezing me in place. How disgusting can people be?

The woman arched into him as his lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, whispering something I couldn’t hear but could imagine from the way her breath hitched and her head fell back. His touch was deliberate, confident, too familiar, too practiced, and it drew another helpless sound from her throat.

My stomach twisted.

I took a step back, intending to turn away, to escape the obscene intimacy unfolding in front of me, when the man shifted slightly under the hallway lights, and that’s when I saw his face.

Lucian.

The world tilted. My breath caught painfully in my chest as realization crashed over me. The same eyes, the same sharp jaw, the same mouth now devouring another woman like she was the only thing that mattered in the universe.

He didn’t see me, didn’t sense me standing there, rooted to the spot, watching my heart shatter in silence.

The woman laughed softly against his lips, and he answered by pulling her closer, steering her backward toward the nearest room. The door opened, and closed as their silhouettes disappeared inside, swallowed by dim light and muffled sounds.

I stood there long after they were gone. The hallway feeling colder, emptier. "So that’s how it is," I scoffed.

My fingers curled into fists at my sides as something sharp and unfamiliar lodged itself deep in my chest, not jealousy exactly, not anger alone, but a sick, hollow ache I couldn’t name.

I turned away slowly, heels echoing once more against the tiles, and walked back down the hallway with one thought burning in my mind: This game just got personal.