Page 39 of Sweet Poison

“Fine. Fine. I’ll be inside. Call me if you need me.” He then retreats inside the suite, leaving me to my thoughts.

I take a deep sigh, and lean back reaching for my phone again.

I open my social media app, and look for Willow’s social media profile as it is listed in her file. The feed loads, and I find myself scrolling through a series of posts that paint a vivid picture of her everyday life.

The first thing that stands out is the sheer number of selfies Willow posts—each one taken outdoors, capturing her love fornature. I can’t help but zoom in on her face in every picture. Fuck, she’s beautiful. In one photo, she’s practicing yoga with a golden retriever puppy playfully nipping at her heels. The image is cute as fuck, her smile is wide and her eyes radiate her inner light.

I hate animals. Hell, I hate most things with pulse. But she doesn’t. She loves everything—every damn thing.

Further down, I see older photos of mushrooms and plants, and butterflies that I assume are from her mother’s greenhouse slash butterfly conservatory. The captions are mostly emojis or facts about plants or mushrooms. I scroll through her profile, reading every single caption until I reach the first photo she posted. It’s a makeup-free shot of her looking up at the sun, her wild curls blowing in the wind. She looks happy and free. I must have lost my damn mind because, before I know it, I’m taking a screenshot and saving it to my phone’s gallery. For what? I don’t fucking know. I just do.

Her life in photos confirms what I’ve always known. She’s too good for me, and her world is so far removed from my own. Hers is simple, full of life, color and love, while mine is cold, colorless, shallow— cutthroats and ruthless.

Closing the app, I force myself to stop stalking her like a creep and I glance up, spotting her in the flesh as she walks across the hotel grounds below, smiling shyly at every one she passes. Thud. Thud. Thud. Fuck, my chest.

She’s carrying a backpack as big as she is, a white coat draped over one arm. Next to her is that colleague with the ugly vests— I already forgot his name. Edgard? Emmett? I couldn’t care less.

What I do care about is the way his pathetic and needy gaze is fixed on Willow, filled with unmistakable adoration. Irritation flares within me, twisting into something ugly. The fuck’s smitten expression as he walks alongside Willow doesn’t sit wellwith me. I don’t like the way he looks at her, like she’s the only thing that matters in his world. It’s a look that’s all too familiar, and it stirs up a possessiveness that pisses me off because I have no right to feel this way.

It’s her.

It’s fucking her.

She’s messing with my carefully laid plans. I’m a man who prides himself on control, and here she is, disrupting my world and driving me insane.

I slam the phone down onto the table, the sudden impact making the coffee slosh dangerously close to the edge of the mug. My mood darkens as I push myself up from the chair, my quiet and peaceful morning now ruined by the jealousy gnawing at me.

I move to the edge of the balcony, gripping the railing tightly, ruining the decoration as I scowl at the scene below. Willow and that asshole stroll along, oblivious to my seething gaze. I can’t stand the thought of the fucker being so close to her. Fuck.

I rub my chest, trying to get rid of the ache there. It feels like I’m on the outside looking in, and the feeling gnaws at me. “Fuck this,” I mutter under my breath, clenching my fists.

I storm off the balcony, the tension in my chest intensifying with every step. My thoughts are a chaotic jumble of jealousy and frustration, and I can’t stand the noise in my head. I stride towards the door leading back into the suite.

Lincoln’s voice slices through the red haze. “Where the fuck are you going now?”

I don’t slow down or look back; my mood is souring by the second.

Fucking fairy, what the hell are you doing to me?

Chapter

Thirteen

HOLLY JOLLY HEART

Willow

“How could I forget that sweet voice?” – M

“Oh, baby! I knew it. I knew you’d love it there. Look at you, sweet girl— you’re in a Christmas wonderland!” My mom’s excited and happy voice burst through my phone as I stroll through the hotel grounds, ready to start a brand-new day.

With each step, I breathe in the salty air that blends with the festive scent of pine and cinnamon from the decorations all around. The aroma wraps around me like a warm hug, making me feel all cozy inside, even though it is ninety degrees outside.

“Oh, my goodness! Look at all that red and white. You know how I love a candy cane- theme Christmas, Willow.”

I laugh, spinning around to give her a full view of the entire pool area. “I know, Mom. The whole resort is decked out like candy cane madness today. Every corner feels like stepping into a holiday dream.”

My dad chimes in, his voice full of amusement. “Are those fat fucks wearing speedos?” He leans in closer to the screen for a better view of the inflatable Santa’s, while Mom rolls her eyes playfully and pats one of the butterflies he had inked on his skin for her.

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