5

Raven

Emerson’s arrival in my room late that night was the last thing I needed. After taking a long, refreshing bath and meticulously going through my skincare routine, I was ready to collapse into bed. I deserved peace, especially after everything that had happened. I had endured enough. But, of course, Emerson couldn’t let me have that. Not tonight.

I didn’t even turn to face him when I heard the door creak open. The scent of him—the same cologne he always wore—instantly filled the room, making me tense. There was a time I found comfort in it, but now it only filled me with disgust. I could sense his eyes on me as he shut the door, the audacity of it all infuriating me.

“What do you want?” I snapped, still not looking at him, my voice cold and hard.

He hesitated. “Raven, we’re supposed to… consummate our marriage tonight.”

I turned sharply, meeting his gaze. His words sounded almost ridiculous now. My marriage to Emerson was a farce. A hollow lie. And the fact that he expected me to fulfill some obligation after everything he’d done? Laughable. “I’m not interested,” I said, my voice venomous.

He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “We’re married, Raven. This is what’s expected—”

“Expected?” I cut him off, my tone biting. “You expect me to sleep with you? Not again, Emerson, not now that I know what kind of man you truly are.”

His expression tightened with frustration, but he still dared to move closer. His hand reached for my waist, a touch that once might have sent shivers through me in a good way. Now, it only made me sick.

I slapped his hand away with a disgusted snarl, pushing him back hard enough that he stumbled. “Don’t touch me, Emerson. Don’t ever touch me again.”

His eyes darkened, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I stormed past him, my heart pounding, and made my way downstairs to the kitchen, my mind clouded with the urge to escape him. I needed water, something to ground me and calm the storm inside me. My hands shook slightly as I gripped the glass, the cool liquid sliding down my throat as I tried to shake off the lingering feeling of Emerson’s presence.

Just as I was about to head back upstairs, the kitchen door opened, and I froze, my frustration growing. I was ready to unleash my anger on Emerson again, but when I turned, it wasn’t him.

It was Clark.

He stood there, shirtless, his dark hair tousled, his eyes gleaming with that dangerous edge I had come to expect from him. His gaze slid over me with a slow, deliberate intensity that made my pulse quicken, and suddenly, I felt very exposed. My nightwear was practically transparent, and the way his eyes lingered on my body made my skin prickle with awareness.

Frustrated, I moved to leave, not in the mood for his games. “Move,” I muttered.

But he didn’t. Instead, Clark’s hand shot out, gripping my wrist firmly but not painfully. Before I could react, he tugged me back toward him, and in one swift motion, my body collided with his. His chest was hard and warm against me, and the sudden contact knocked the breath from my lungs.

I gasped, and the sensation of him—his broad chest, his muscled arms, and… Oh, goddess. I could feel his arousal pressing against me, his body responding to mine in a way that sent my mind into a frenzy. His hard length rubbed against my ass, and a shudder ran through me, involuntary, even as I hated myself for it.

From behind, Clark leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “You’re too hot for me to handle, Raven.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart racing. His voice was low, husky, and it made something primal stir inside me. My rational mind was screaming at me to pull away, to stop this before it went too far. But my body… my body was betraying me in ways I didn’t want to admit.

I sighed, feeling the heat of him pressed so intimately against me. My nightgown, so thin and sheer, left little to the imagination, and I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. It was maddening. I wanted to scream, to shove him away, but the words caught in my throat.

Before I could figure out how to get myself out of this situation, the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway.

We broke apart instantly, the tension snapping like a rubber band. My heart was still pounding in my chest, and my cheeks flushed as I tried to regain control of myself. Clark stood there, his gaze still heated, but the playful smirk on his lips was gone, replaced with something more serious.

And then, Emerson stepped into the kitchen.

For a moment, none of us said a word. The air was thick with unspoken tension. Emerson’s eyes flicked between me and Clark, suspicion clear on his face, but he said nothing. Clark, ever the master of playing it cool, leaned back against the counter, his expression now casual as if nothing had just happened.

“What are you doing down here?” Emerson asked, his eyes narrowing at me.

“I needed water,” I said flatly, holding up the empty glass as proof.

Emerson’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before shifting to Clark, who was now buttoning up his shirt. “I didn’t know you were staying this long,” Emerson remarked, his tone laced with curiosity.

Clark’s smile was sharp, predatory. “Business, cousin. I’ll be here for a few weeks.”

The tension in the room was suffocating, and I could feel the weight of both men’s gazes on me. My mind raced, and I knew I needed to get out of there before things escalated.

Without another word, I walked past them, not daring to look at either of their faces. My heart was pounding in my ears as I made my way back upstairs, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through me.

Once inside my bedroom, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, my breath coming in shaky gasps. Clark’s words, his touch, and Emerson’s presence all swirled together in my mind, leaving me dizzy and disoriented.

I didn’t know what the hell was happening anymore. But one thing was certain—this game I was playing, this twisted web of revenge, lust, and secrets—was getting more dangerous by the second. And I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep myself from getting burned.