The Secret Heiress | ✔️

25 | 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚒 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢

Clearing my throat, I clutch the takeaway bag tighter. Like a nervous teenager approaching his long-time crush for the first time, I gingerly saunter around the jacuzzi to the edge across from her.

I get down on my knees and hold out the takeaway bag to her, an olive branch on my part, "I bought you the brownies you like, instead of the rainbow cupcakes you despise."

Jennifer raises a skeptical brow, not making a move to take the offering from me. Staying where she is.

I pull back the takeaway bag I put extra effort drawing rainbows on with a saddened expression, "I'm sorry." I say sincerely, realizing I should've started with it.

When she still doesn't react in any way, my panic gets the best out of me. And the panic tends to make me rant without a brake,

"Look I chickened out, okay? At first, I wasn't allowed to tell you about the deal and the engagement because it was supposed to be a 'secret' deal my father struck with Samuel to take you down, some sort of weird retaliation for you always trying to up Vitallis Group's shares. I couldn't tell you back then for obvious reasons. You're the biggest rival Vitallis Group has, we didn't even talk much and my dad forcefully fixed my engagement to his best friend's daughter when I didn't have any wish to get married." I pause, because the next words make me feel like an idiot but honesty is what she needs from me.

"I realize now how stupid I was. But back then, I thought going along with my Dad's plan was the best way to make him proud of me or some obnoxious shit like that I made up to delude myself from the truth that I couldn't back out even if I wanted to." I hesitate, lifting my gaze to hers and she still hasn't moved, but the ice in her eyes have reduced the tiniest bit.

"Then when I came to New York and I knew you were under the same roof as me in the Davidson Villa, I. . ." My cheeks flush, "I bothered you constantly to irk you." It was somewhat true, even if a huge part of me bothered her just because I wanted her attention.

"Anyways, then we became friends." When I say that, she gives me a questioning look and I go all defensive, "You said we could be friends!" I'm like a child throwing a tantrum over a broken promise.

Jennifer shakes her head in a I'm-tired-of-this-man-child way.

My sad expression turns into downright crestfallen. I hold the takeaway bag close to my heart and whisper pathetically, "When I stayed at your mansion for a week, it was the first time I experienced having the freedom of feeling like myself, not constantly worrying about pleasing my father. I just knew then I couldn't go along with the engagement and hope to be happy with it when I wanted no part in it." Especially when you occupy my thoughts nearly every minute of my life, Jenna. I don't tell this to Jennifer, ofcourse.

"I was going to talk to Samuel since he was my only way out from the deal. I was going to break-off the engagement with Mia on the annual party anyway. But then your scandal broke out and well. . ." I'm taken back to the kiss and I chuck the thoughts away, "The engagement thing happened. I know I should've told you about the deal afterwards. But. . ."

I fold my knees and settle down at the edge of the jacuzzi tub. I can feel Jennifer watching me with hawk-like eyes as I dip a finger into the water and drag it in a horizontal line, a nervous trait but whatever, "I was kind of paranoid you'd stop talking to me if I told you that I was a part of my Dad's plan to take down Ryson Group. It was a stupid conclusion I know. But I just didn't want you to be mad at me. Or stop talking to me. I couldn't loose you. I. . ."

My finger stills on the water and my throat clogs with emotion. I don't think I've ever expressed this to anyone, "I hate being always told what to do and what not to do by my father. I know he's my father and maybe he means it for my own good but. . .sometimes it just feels like I'm merely a puppet and he's holding my strings. Making me do things I don't want to do, shaping my life according to how he wants it instead of what I might want. I kind of. . ." There's a deep fluster touching my cheeks, "I wanted to be a football player. Or maybe a racer."

I don't look at Jennifer in embarrassment but I can finally sense her shifting, her body stepping a bit closer.

My embarrassment grows double. I start rambling again, "So yeah, when I told my Dad that, he said it wasn't 'fitting for David Vitallis's son'. He shoved me into business school and made sure there were no ties connecting me to either sports or entertainment. It was a whole deal. Surprisingly though I actually ended up liking business. But like, what I want to say is, even though my Dad would be against it, befriending you is the only time I've done something for myself, consequences be damned. You just. . .feel like my person, Jenna. You're my person." I come to an abrupt halt when I feel soft fingers touching my knee.

Jennifer's touching my knee, no longer on the other side of the tub. She's close to me and she's....

Oh fuck. I don't let my eyes wander below her neck because undearneath the chlorine water illuminated by blue lights, Jennifer is. . .naked. The dim lighting, the foggy air and the bubble-bath foam prevents from a clear view of anything. But how did I not realize it earlier?! Shit. I have to get out of here before I do something very reckless. Like kissing her senseless. Or getting in the jacuzzi tub myself. The thought sends heat coursing to my core.

I'm fully ready to bolt straight out when Jennifer glances up at me with those intoxicating eyes, "I think you'd make a great football player. Or a racer." Then she adds with an almost teasing small smile, "You've always been a bit of a jock."

There's this really strange, warm, gooey feeling in my chest. I want the feeling to stay there forever. Who is this? Where's my scowly Jennifer who was mad at me? I want her back. Jennifer isn't much of a talker but when she says things like that, it melts my heart similarly to those starstruck characters in sappy romance movies. This version of her. . .could rip me to shreds.

But the shit-eating grin is a complete opposite reaction when I extend the takeaway bag to her again, "My olive branch." Coyly, I add, "Are we cool, then?"

"Hmm." She takes the takeway this time, observes the rainbows drawn on the bag with amusement. Then sets it down next to where I'm settled on my knees.

My eyes grow dull but then before I can comprehend, her hands sneak around my neck and she pulls my face down.

Her lips meet mine, hard and soft and sensual. Just perfect. Unlike last time, where there was a prick in my heart when I thought she was kissing me only for the sake of the spectators. This time, it's freer. Intimate.

Her lips part in a gasp when one of my hands drive into her hair tugging at those wonderful strands, angling her head back while my other hand cups the side of her neck possessively. My tongue meets hers, tangling along and tasting the minty sweetness of her mouth. I feel a smirk tug at the corners of my mouth as I see how breathless she is when I pull back. But instead of giving her time to sate down from the rush, my lips travel to her jaw-kissing, nipping, sucking. Her hands grip onto my hair in a vice-like grip, the soft release of a moan sounding like music to my ears. God I'm crazy for this woman.

When my kisses venture down to the crook of her neck, Jennifer freezes abruptly, making me stop instantly. All the lust flies out of the window jumping straight into raw concern when I see the littlest flicker of dread glint in her eyes.

Inching back, I try to ask her whether I did something wrong, whether I went too far but she isn't looking at me. Her eyes are intently staring at something behind my shoulder. Her hands are gripping my wrist so hard, her nails dig into the skin. But I see the tremble wrecking her body. I want to check what it is she's looking at, but I want her to calm down first.

"Jenna," My fingers gently tuck back the hair obstructing her face, my thumb caressing her cheekbones softly, "What is it, sweetheart?"

Jennifer doesn't retort for a moment too long, her face loosing color with each minute until I just want to pull her into my arms, rest of the things be damned. But then she shifts her eyes to me and whispers, "It's the clown."

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I wrote down a whole 600 words part in third person POV of a secret character but then deleted the whole thing because I wanna make the plot-twist at the end more shocking for y'all. Talk about wasting time, but alright😭👍

What do you think of Romeo?👀

Theories?👀