Chapter 4 - Intruder in Silk

Vienna’s POV

I stared down at the neatly folded shirts and T-shirts strewn across the floor. Behind me, Desiree spoke, her voice syrupy.

"Oh, thanks for getting that, Vienna," she said with a breezy smile, assuming I’d clean up the mess for her. Before I could react, she already turned toward Warren. 

"Can you help me inside? I’m still a bit lightheaded."

Without waiting for a reply, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. I watched them walk away together, her body leaning into his.

How dare she treat me like her maid, then walk away with my husband like that?

Her moving in would prove to be an even bigger nightmare than I’d imagined.

I took the shirts upstairs to the master bedroom, laying them on the bed. How the hell did Desiree get these?

When Warren walked in a few minutes later, I didn’t look up.

"Hey babe," he said casually.

He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him. His lips—warm and deliberate—pressed against the curve of my neck.

Normally, I would’ve melted into his arms. But this time, I stiffened.

He felt it. "What’s wrong, V?"

"What are these?" I asked, my voice sharp as glass.

He followed my gaze to the bed and blinked. "My shirts? What about them?"

"They were in Desiree’s suitcase."

I turned to face him, arms crossed. My eyes searched his. "Why?"

He looked taken aback. "We used to share clothes growing up," he said, like it explained everything. "She always stole my hoodies. We’ve lived together since she was five and I was ten, remember? It’s just a sibling thing."

I narrowed my eyes. "You’re not blood-related, Warren. You said that like it made it more innocent, but I’m telling you—it doesn’t."

His expression hardened slightly. "You’re overthinking this. You’ve been worrying too much lately. Take a chill pill, babe."

"A chill pill? Are you serious? I’m not overthinking this. This isn’t normal. I’m your wife, Warren. Your wife. Desiree can’t live here like she owns the place. This isn’t some never-ending family sleepover."

"It’s only temporary," he said quickly. "She’s recovering. She’ll move out once she’s feeling better. Once she gets a job and sorts things out with our parents."

"Warren," I said firmly, "she’s not your responsibility anymore. She’s an adult. And you have a wife now. You have me."

"Vienna, please don’t be like this. Why are you so suspicious? Desiree is just my sister." His eyes hardened, and I could tell his protectiveness over her was taking over.

"Well, I never agreed to her staying here," I replied, crossing my arms.

Before he could respond, the door burst open.

"Oh wow. Real classy, Vienna," Desiree said, making no effort to hide that she’d been eavesdropping. She stepped into the room with a theatrical gasp, as if I’d just insulted royalty. "Already trying to kick me out? I just moved in."

She stood there with one hand on her hip, the other tugging at the hem of a silk camisole that barely qualified as clothing. The neckline plunged scandalously, and her bare legs gleamed under the soft bedroom lights.

"Desiree? Don’t worry, sis, she didn’t mean that," Warren said quickly. "Vienna, please apologize," he added with a sigh.

"Apologize? That was a personal conversation, Desiree. You can’t just barge into our bedroom. Especially not dressed like THAT." I gestured at her exposed figure, my anger and discomfort rising by the second.

"Psh, this thing? What about it?" she asked, twirling around, clearly showing off. Then she glanced at the bed, her eyes zeroing in on the shirt in my hand.

"Hey! You took this from my luggage!" she snapped, snatching it away and hugging it to her chest like it was a childhood teddy bear. "This is MY brother’s house too, you know. I have every right to be here. You don’t get to tell me otherwise."

She turned to Warren with a pout, her voice suddenly soft. "Remember that night at the hotel? When my pajamas got soaked and I had to borrow one of your shirts? It was so comfy…"

Her tone held a subtle smugness, like a challenge veiled in sugar.

"What night is she talking about?" I asked, turning to Warren.

He let out a light chuckle, completely missing the storm building behind my eyes. "Oh—that’s a funny story, actually. It was during our trip to Switzerland last month."

Desiree’s face lit up, her laughter bubbling out like champagne. "I still can’t believe I fell into the pool," she said, eyes sparkling with amusement. 

"If you hadn’t jumped in after me and pulled me out, I might’ve drowned. We were way too drunk to be swimming," she added with a giggle that lingered just a second too long.

Warren nodded, smiling at the memory, utterly unaware of how it sounded. "Yeah, that night was wild. We should plan another sibling trip soon. Maybe you could come with us next time, V," he said, glancing over at me with a hopeful look, as if expecting a smile.

He got none.

My blood was simmering beneath the surface. Her "accident" reeked of another one of her tricks. 

I could picture it too clearly—her stumbling dramatically, Warren diving in, soaking wet clothes clinging to them both. Another excuse to blur the line between sister and something else.

Desiree gave a little shrug, her voice light but her eyes fixed on mine. "Anyway, that’s all to say… Warren’s seen me in much less than this. He is my brother, after all."

She smiled, saccharine sweet, but her words hit like daggers. And Warren still didn’t see it. Or worse—he didn’t want to.

I clenched my jaw, fists tight at my sides. You want to play innocent in lingerie? Fine. But don’t expect me to pretend I’m blind.

"You’re not a child anymore, Desiree," I said coldly. "So start dressing like it."

She sighed—loudly, dramatically—then pulled the shirt over her head right in front of us, the hem falling over her bare thighs. She twirled once more, mock-innocent. "Better? Feeling more comfortable now, Vienna?"

My glare didn’t waver.

"Ladies, please, let’s not—" Warren tried, but he was interrupted by Desiree’s exclaim:

"Ugh! I’m so itchy!" She scratched her arms vigorously. "Vienna, you don’t have a cat, do you?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "Yes… Milo."

She recoiled, eyes wide. "I’m allergic. Terribly allergic. Warren, tell her she has to get rid of it."