Lipstick Stain On His White Collar

Carrie's POV

The room buzzed with an uneasy energy. I couldn’t tell if it was just my nerves or the weight of everyone’s stares.

“Isabella?"

The mysterious lady leaned in and kissed his cheek, her lips leaving a faint mark that seemed to glow in the dim light.

“Hello Victor. Miss me?

Victor didn’t flinch; instead, he turned to her, his expression unreadable.

She glanced my way, her sharp hazel eyes locking onto mine. Her lips curved into a smirk, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

“Who the hell is she?” I whispered under my breath, my fingers clutching the hem of my gown.

As she let go of Victor, Isabella strode toward me, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Each step felt deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. Goosebumps prickled my skin, and I resisted the urge to step back.

What was she planning?

Before she could reach me, The Reaper intercepted her. He moved like a shadow, his presence suffocating.

“Oh, hello…Uncle.” Isabella said, a smirk forming. "Been a while,” Her voice sugary sweet, though her smirk never wavered.

“What are you doing here, Isabella?” The Reaper’s tone was cold, his expression unmoving.

She tilted her head, pretending to think. “Oh, you know, family obligations. I couldn’t possibly miss Victor's wedding. Even though I didn't get my invite” Her eyes rolling.

“What do you want?” His voice sharpened like a blade.

Isabella ignored the question, her smirk deepening as she stepped around him. She walked straight up to me and pulled a small box from her clutch.

“Happy wedding, darling. Hope you had fun today” she said, holding it out to me.

Why did her voice sound so familiar?

“Thank you,” I replied hesitantly, taking the gift. My fingers brushed hers, and I felt a strange jolt—like electricity, but colder.

Isabella turned back toward Victor, her heels clicking again. She leaned in close, whispered something into his ear, and then walked away, her laughter ringing through the room like a melody laced with poison.

The Reaper cleared his throat, raising a glass. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s move to the reception.”

The crowd stirred, and I felt a rush of relief as maids approached me. They escorted me to a private dressing room, where a stunning blue sleeveless dress awaited. It hugged my figure perfectly, its shimmering fabric catching the light. My hair was styled into an elegant yet sexy bun, strands framing my face.

When I stepped into the reception hall, the room fell silent for a moment. Camilla's papi approached me, his warm smile easing some of my tension.

“You look beautiful, mira,” he said, taking my hand. “Too bad Diego couldn’t make it. He’s overseas.”

I froze.

Diego? Out of the country? That didn’t make sense. For weeks, I’d been convinced he was behind all the chaos that'd happened to me.

My mind raced, but I forced myself to focus as papi led me to the dance floor for the first dance.

“You’re glowing,” he said, his voice filled with pride.

“Gracias, papi,” I replied, smiling through my teeth though my thoughts were elsewhere.

As we swayed to the music, I couldn’t shake the unease settling in my chest. Diego’s absence poked holes in my theories, and Isabella’s presence only added to the storm brewing in my mind.

After the dance, I returned to my seat, scanning the crowd for Victor.

He was nowhere to be seen. The minutes stretched on, and my impatience grew.

When he finally appeared, he walked with an unnerving calmness. He took the seat beside me, his expression unreadable.

Where the hell had he been?

The MC called for the bride and groom’s dance. Victor stood and offered his hand to me. I hesitated, but his gaze held mine, challenging me. Reluctantly, I took his hand, and he led me to the dance floor.

The music was slow, the kind that demanded closeness. His hands settled on my hips, and I rested mine on his shoulders. We moved in unison, but my mind couldn’t focus on the rhythm.

Victor’s proximity was intoxicating. The scent of his cologne, the warmth of his touch—it was overwhelming, He was a piece of art, sculpted to perfection.

My eyes drifted to the crisp white collar of his shirt, and that’s when I saw it: a faint red stain. Lipstick.

I had no doubt that it was a stain from Isabella’s lipstick.

Anger bubbled up inside me, sudden and irrational. This jerk had been out doing hell knows what with that bitch.

My steps faltered, and I pulled away slightly. Victor’s grip tightened, steadying me.

He was on to me.

“Where do you think you're going?,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

The crowd clapped, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

I tried to shake off the irritation, but it lingered, driving me to dance offbeat in a weak attempt to escape him.

Victor was quick to catch on. He noticed immediately, his hold on me firming.

“Don’t make a scene,” he said through gritted teeth, though his expression remained calm for the audience.

“You ain't seen nothing yet" I whispered to myself. “Asshole"

A plan formed in my head. I stepped on his foot, hard, and smiled sweetly when he winced. I twirled away, hoping to create some distance.

Victor’s lips curled into a predatory grin as he pursued me, catching me by the waist and spinning me back into his arms. The crowd erupted in applause, mistaking my struggle to escape for an elaborate dance.

Victor hands trailed up my bare skin and under my dress to my thighs, he released his grib on me lightly, causing my back to arch backwards, he swiftly lifted me up before wrapping his arms around me and finally turning my head to face his.

Our eyes locked.

The music ended, and Victor lifted my chin, pressing a brief kiss on my lips before releasing me.

The audience buzzed with amusement, claps echoing round.

You call that not making a scene? I thought to myself

My cheeks burned as I returned to my seat, his actions leaving me confused and flustered. Only Victor Reaper could make a girl feel this way.

The rest of the reception passed in a blur. As the guests began to leave, Camilla's papi pulled me aside into a private room.

“I have someone I want you to meet,” he said, locking the door behind us.

A tall, dark-skinned man stood in the corner. His piercing blue eyes and athletic build gave him an intimidating presence.

“This is Ayo,” Camilla's papi said. “Just think of him as your new personal assistant.”

“Papi, I don’t need—”

He raised a hand to stop me. “Now that you’re part of the Reaper family, you'll attract unnecessary attention. You’ll need protection. Ayo is highly trained, and you’ll find him invaluable.”

I glanced at Ayo, who remained silent, his expression neutral. “Fine,” I muttered.

Camilla's papi kissed my forehead. “Good luck, mira.”

Ayo followed me out, his steps quiet but deliberate. We climbed into a car together while Victor took another.

“Your name is unusual,” I said, breaking the silence. “Where are you from?”

“Nigeria,” he replied, his voice calm. “I worked as an informant before taking on this role. I can handle anything, so don't worry miss, you’re in safe hands.”

“Anything?” I raised an eyebrow.

He nodded.

“Then could you do me a favor and run a background check on someone for me,” I said.

“Of Course. Who?”

“Well I don't know her full name, but her name is Isabella, she was the one who barged into the hall the other time.”

He gave a small smile. “Consider it done miss.”

“Thanks. And enough of this miss nonsense. Just call me Camilla okay?"

“Yes mis… I mean yes Camilla"

**************

Later that night, I had called Mr Grayson, filling him in on the situation so far.

“Well just make sure that the mission isn't compromised"

“You can count on me sir"

Just then, I heard a knock on my door, it was Ayo. I quickly hung up on Mr Grayson before letting him in.

Ayo came with holding a file in hand. He handed it to me. As I skimmed through it, my heart raced as I found out more about this mysterious lady.

“Isabella Rodriguez,” I whispered.

“But the real question is, why is she here?”

As I wondered, something fell from the table. It was the gift that Isabella had given me earlier.

"What is it Camilla" Asked Ayo, curious to know.

The box was empty, except for a piece of neatly folded paper. "it's a piece of paper" I said while opening it up.

"Oh no she didn't!" I exclaimed as I read the contents of the note.

"What does it say?" Ayo asked, anxious to find out.

"It says— Victor is mine bitch"

*************

Victor's POV

She yanked hard on my dick once more and I groaned in pleasure.

“Isabella, you're fucking amazing"