17.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

I woke up to persistent knocking. Loud. Annoying. Relentless.

I groaned, rolling over and burying my face into my pillow. "Go away!"

The knocking didn't stop.

If anything, it got worse.

Before I could cuss whoever it was out, my door swung open, and my father's deep voice cut through the room.

"Babydoll, get up."

I sighed dramatically, flipping onto my back and squinting up at him. "For what?"

He stood near the doorway, already dressed in a sleek suit, looking like he was about to handle some big business. Typical. His expression was unreadable, but his tone? Firm.

"I'm leaving for a business trip. Mally's coming with me," he said, arms crossed. "I need you to attend the business dinner in my place."

I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. "Wait—what?"

"You heard me."

My brows furrowed, still half-asleep. "Daddy, you know I don't do that business shit—"

"You don't have to," he interrupted, already shutting down my argument. "Ren will be taking notes. You just have to be the face of the Hills' name."

At that, my brain snapped awake.

Ren.

She was gonna be there?

I bit my lip, trying to act unbothered. "So, I just sit there and look pretty?"

"Exactly," he nodded. "Don't embarrass me."

I rolled my eyes. "You act like I don't know how to act."

He gave me a look. "Yanna."

I held my hands up. "Fine, fine. I'll be on my best behavior."

He huffed, clearly not convinced, but let it go. "Good. Your hairstylist is on the way."

That made me perk up.

Finally, something exciting.

I kicked off my covers, already hopping out of bed. "For real?"

"Yes," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "Go get ready."

I grinned, bouncing over to my shelf where I kept my wigs lined up perfectly on their stands.

This was the best part—choosing which one fit the occasion.

I ran my fingers through a few before stopping at a long, sleek jet-black unit. Bone-straight, middle part, the type that screamed expensive.

Perfect.

I grabbed it, holding it up to the light like it was a trophy.

"You good now?" Daddy asked, watching my sudden mood shift.

I turned to him, smiling sweetly. "Now I am."

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath, before looking at his watch. "I gotta head out. Ren's downstairs if you need anything. The dinner's at seven. Don't be late."

Ren's here?

I kept my face neutral, but my heart sped up at the mention of her name.

I turned back to my wig, brushing through it with my fingers. "Got it."

Daddy walked out, and the second the door closed behind him, I squealed quietly, too excited to hold it in.

This might actually be fun.

The moment my hairstylist and nail tech walked through the door, I already felt like today was about to be a good-ass day.

"Hey, Miss Hill," my stylist, Jada, greeted, pulling me into a quick hug.

I smiled, hugging her back. "Jada, girl, you know you can just call me Doll."

She laughed, setting her styling tools down on my vanity. "Mmhm, and get cussed out by your daddy? No thanks, Miss Hill."

I rolled my eyes but didn't argue.

Right behind her was Kimmy, my nail tech, already unpacking her kit on the side table.

"Okay, Miss Thang," she said, eyeing me up and down. "What's the vibe today?"

I grinned, holding up the sleek black wig I had picked out earlier. "Classy but sexy."

"Ooooh," Jada sang, grabbing it from me. "This is giving boss bitch."

"Right?" I smirked, plopping down in my chair. "I need the inches laid to perfection."

"You know I got you," she said, already parting my natural hair to braid it down.

Meanwhile, Kimmy scooted her stool next to me, grabbing my hands and examining my nails.

"Now, what we doing for these claws?" she asked. "Long? Short? Simple? Extra?"

I tapped my chin, thinking. "Long, obviously."

"Duh."

I smirked. "And French tips, but make them thick."

Kimmy nodded in approval. "Classy but sexy, I see the vision."

"Exactly," I said, settling into my seat.

With that, they both got to work.

Jada's fingers were quick and precise as she braided my hair down, her nails clicking against my scalp with every part she made.

Kimmy worked just as fast, filing and shaping my nails to perfection while humming along to the music playing in the background.

I tilted my head back, exhaling deeply as I soaked it all in.

This was the life.

Getting my hair done, my nails done, being pampered like the princess I was?

Nothing topped this feeling.

As Jada melted the lace onto my forehead, I peeked over at Kimmy's progress.

"Ooooh, these eat," I said, wiggling my fingers.

Kimmy smirked, buffing out the edges. "Girl, I always eat. Don't play with me."

I laughed, turning my attention back to the mirror.

Jada was now pressing out my wig, her flat iron gliding through the strands like silk.

Bone-straight, shiny, laid.

I was obsessed.

"Damn, Jada," I said, admiring my reflection. "You snapped."

"Always," she said, smirking.

Once Kimmy finished my nails, she held up my hands, admiring her own work.

"Okay, Miss Hill, you are officially that girl."

I flicked my freshly done hair over my shoulder and looked at myself in the mirror.

Damn right.

With my hair freshly laid and my nails flawless, I was already feeling myself. I admired my reflection in the mirror for a second longer before tying my hair up with a silk wrap to keep everything in place.

My lashes were still full and fluffy from the set I got a few days ago, so at least I didn't have to worry about that. Less stress, more time to perfect the rest of the look.

I turned on the shower, letting the steam build up before stepping in. As soon as the hot water hit my skin, I let out a deep sigh, feeling my muscles relax.

I took my time, exfoliating, shaving, making sure my skin was soft and glowing. By the time I stepped out, the entire bathroom smelled like my signature vanilla and coconut body wash.

After moisturizing from head to toe, I went straight to my vanity and started my beat.

My base? Flawless.

My brows? Snatched.

My lip combo? Mwah.

I kept everything soft but sexy—dewy skin, warm blush, glossy lips.

The last thing left was my dress.

Daddy had it laid out for me on my bed, still in its luxury boutique bag. I pulled it out, feeling the smooth silky material between my fingers.

It was baby pink.

Short. Fitted. Long-sleeved.

Perfect.

My lips curled into a smirk as I slipped it on, letting the fabric mold to my body.

Pink wasn't just any color on me.

It was my color.

And I knew Ren knew that too.

She wasn't one to say much, but I saw the way her eyes always lit up whenever I wore pink. That little flicker of something she tried to hide.

I looked in the mirror, tilting my head.

Yeah, she was gonna feel this one.

I slid on my white heels, the glossy finish catching the light as I stepped towards my vanity. My Chanel bag was already waiting for me, the soft leather cool beneath my fingertips as I grabbed it. Everything about my look was intentional. The baby pink dress, the way it clung to me just right, the glossy lips that made my pout stand out—it was all put together for a reaction.

I just didn't know Ren would be showing up like that.

As I descended the grand staircase, my eyes landed on her, and I almost lost my footing.

She was dressed up.

Not just dressed up—dressed the hell up.

Her locs were freshly retwisted, styled into neat barrel rolls that framed her sharp jawline perfectly. That alone had me staring. But then my eyes trailed down.

A black turtleneck, hugging her broad shoulders and toned arms, fitted black pants that sat on her waist just right, and chains resting against her chest, catching the light every time she moved.

And when she spoke?

A diamond grill flashed.

Canines iced out, bottom row flooded.

I felt my stomach tighten.

She looked too good.

I had to remind myself that I was supposed to be annoyed with her. That she had the nerve to act unbothered the last few days, like she didn't care that I was going out, like she wasn't phased by my little games.

But now?

Now, she had the audacity to show up looking like that.

Her eyes flickered over me for just a second, but it was quick. Too quick. Like she was purposefully avoiding staring.

That made me press my lips together.

"Ready, Ms. Hill?" she asked, voice smooth, that Louisiana drawl slipping through just enough to make my stomach flip.

I adjusted my bag on my shoulder, lifting my chin. "Obviously."

She just nodded, stepping ahead to open the door for me. The scent of her cologne—dark, expensive, intoxicating— lingered in the air as I walked past her.

I could feel her presence behind me, steady, solid, as we stepped outside towards the waiting car.

And as much as I wanted to act unbothered, my skin was burning under her gaze.

This wasn't just a business dinner anymore.

We slid into the limo, and I wasted no time telling the driver to roll up the partition. The second we were closed off from the world, I turned to Ren, my arms folding across my chest.

"Stop being like that with me."

Ren leaned back, stretching her long legs out like she had all the time in the world. Her diamond canines glinted when she smirked.

"Like what, Ms. Hill?" Her voice was deep, casual—but I could hear the bite behind it.

I sucked my teeth. "Like that."

Ren just stared, quiet for a moment, before letting out a slow breath. Then she sat up, her intense brown eyes locking onto mine.

"What does it matter? We not together."

That shit stung, but I didn't let it show. Instead, I let out a dramatic sigh, shifting in my seat.

"If you want me exclusively to yourself," I said, tilting my head, "all you gotta do is say that."

Ren scoffed, looking away, her jaw clenching. "I shouldn't have to just say that."

She turned back to me, her voice lower, more serious. "If we sneaking around, making out, cuddling every damn day—it should be obvious."

I bit my lip, letting her words settle in.

She wasn't wrong. I knew it. I just hated feeling cornered.

But for once, I put my pride aside.

"I'm sorry," I admitted, my voice softer.

Ren didn't say nothing. She just sat there, looking at me like she was waiting for something more.

I took the hint.

Slowly, I scooted closer, my knee brushing hers, then swung my leg over her lap, straddling her.

Ren's hands twitched at her sides, like she was fighting the urge to grab me.

I poked my lip out, my hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "Do you forgive me?"

Ren stared at me, her tongue running over her bottom grill.

"Are you mine?" she asked, voice low and rough.

I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Yes," I murmured. "Only yours."

That was all she needed to hear.

Her hands gripped my ass, pulling me in closer as I leaned down, our lips crashing together.

The kiss was deep, slow, intense. Like she was making sure I felt every bit of her frustration, her need.

I leaned my head back, giving her access, and her lips trailed down to my neck, pressing warm, wet kisses along my skin.

Her hands squeezed my waist, her thumbs brushing the soft skin just beneath my dress.

"This pink look good on you, ma," she murmured against my throat, her accent thicker now.

I felt my breath hitch.

One of my hands was on her shoulder, the other on the door for balance—

Then I accidentally hit the window button.

The glass rolled down.

And boom—

Flashing lights.

A wave of paparazzi swarmed the limo, cameras snapping wildly, voices yelling over each other.

"Yanna! Who's that?!"

"Is that your bodyguard?!"

"Are you two dating?!"

"Look over here, sweetheart!"

Ren's entire body tensed beneath me.

Her grip on my waist turned hard, then disappeared completely.

"Get off me, Yanna," she muttered, voice tight.

I blinked, still a little dazed from the kiss, from the lights, from everything—

But she didn't wait.

Ren gripped my hips, lifting me like I weighed nothing, and set me beside her.

I watched, still stunned, as she adjusted her turtleneck, ran a hand down her pants, and fixed her chains— all while ignoring me like we weren't just in the middle of something.

I turned toward the open window, squinting at the cameras flashing nonstop.

Shit.

My heart raced.

Ren reached over me calmly, pressed the window button, and it rolled back up.

Then she leaned back, silent.

Jaw clenched. Hands tapping against her thigh.

I swallowed hard, shifting in my seat.

"Ren—"

"Don't."

Her voice was cool, but I could hear the frustration beneath it.

I shut my mouth.

I might've just fucked up.

Ren rolled the window back up, her jaw tight, her eyes unreadable.

Then, under her breath, she muttered, "Fuck."

Before I could say anything, she opened the door for me, stepping out first like nothing had just happened. Like we hadn't just been caught in 4K, putting our business out there for the world to see.

My stomach twisted.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stepped out, adjusting my dress, forcing my posture straight even though my heart was pounding.

Ren was already in bodyguard mode.

Her face was blank, her stance wide and protective, but I could tell—she was tense.

She didn't look at me.

Not once.

We made our way inside the dining hall, the chandeliers casting a soft, golden glow over the high-end guests, business executives, and power players that filled the room.

But as soon as we stepped in, the energy shifted.

Eyes turned.

Conversations paused.

People weren't even trying to be discreet about it. They were staring. Whispering.

And I knew exactly why.

Everyone saw it.

The pictures were probably already circulating online.

Me, sitting in Ren's lap, lips swollen, dress slightly hiked up, her hands all over me, the window wide open for the world to see.

My father's associates, business partners, his rivals—they were all here. And now, instead of talking about whatever deals they came here to discuss, they were talking about me.

And Ren.

I clenched my jaw, keeping my face blank, trying to ignore the way my skin burned under the weight of their stares.

Ren, on the other hand, didn't flinch.

She stepped aside, falling into position with the other security personnel lining the walls.

Like she wasn't just in a whole scandalous-ass situation with me.

I stole a glance at her—

And the worst part?

She still wasn't looking at me.

Not even a quick side-eye.

It made my stomach twist even more.

I barely heard the waiter guiding me to my seat at the long table, barely noticed the glass of champagne being poured in front of me.

All I could think about was the silence.

And how, by tomorrow morning, this shit was about to be everywhere.

Daddy was gonna fucking kill me.

The ride back to the limo was silent.

Not because there was nothing to say—but because I didn't know how to say it.

I kept my head high, my steps even, my face blank. Just like my daddy taught me. When you're surrounded by wolves, you don't let them see you sweat.

But inside?

I was spiraling.

The dinner had been unbearable. People whispering, side-eyeing me, pretending to be professional while I could feel their judgment.

I could already hear my father's voice in my head.

"Yanna, what the fuck did you do?"

We stepped out of the building, and Ren was right behind me, her presence heavy like she was still guarding me even after everything that just went down.

The driver opened the limo door, and I slid in first, sitting stiffly on the plush leather seats. Ren got in after me, shutting the door. The partition was still up.

Good.

The second we pulled off, I let out a slow, controlled exhale and stared out the window, refusing to look at her.

I didn't know if I was mad at her or mad at myself.

Maybe both.

I crossed my legs, tapping my fingers against my thigh. Ren hadn't said a word since we left. Her energy was still unreadable, like she wasn't fazed at all.

Like she didn't care.

That irritated me.

A lot.

I turned my head slightly, stealing a glance at her.

She was relaxed, one arm stretched along the back of the seat, legs spread like she owned the damn space. Her fitted turtleneck hugged her frame, and her chains rested against her chest, catching the dim lights inside the limo.

The fresh retwist made her look even better, her barrel rolls sitting perfect. The diamond grill in her mouth only added to the whole damn aura she had—dominant. In control. Like she knew something I didn't.

I hated that she looked so unbothered.

Like she wasn't even thinking about what happened.

I turned back to the window.

I wasn't about to say anything first.

If she didn't care, then I didn't care.

At least, that's what I told myself.

The car ride was quiet.

Until it wasn't.

Out of nowhere, Ren moved.

I barely had time to react before her hand gripped my jaw, firm but not rough, and she turned my face toward her.

Before I could even get a word out—

She kissed me.

Hard.

I inhaled sharply, completely caught off guard. My hands instinctively went to her shoulders, and before I knew it, I was kissing her back.

It wasn't like our other kisses.

This one was deep. Slow. Possessive.

Ren's lips moved against mine like she was proving something—like she wanted me to feel what she wasn't saying.

And I did.

I felt all of it.

My fingers curled into the fabric of her turtleneck, my body leaning in before I could stop myself.

Then, just as suddenly as she kissed me—

She pulled back, licking her lips, grinning at me.

That smirk.

The one that had me weak every damn time.

I blinked, my breath uneven. "What the hell was that for?"

Ren leaned back, stretching again like she was completely relaxed.

Her voice was deep, smooth, teasing.

"We already in trouble, right?"

I stared at her, my lips still tingling, my brain scrambling to catch up.

Then it hit me.

She didn't give a damn.

Not about the whispers, not about the paparazzi, not about my daddy losing his shit.

She wasn't scared.

She wasn't even worried.

She was claiming me.

In front of the whole damn world.

And she wasn't about to apologize for it.

A slow smirk pulled at my lips as I leaned back in my seat, crossing my legs.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

We got back to the estate, the ride silent again, but this time, it wasn't awkward. It wasn't tense.

It was charged.

Like something heavy lingered between us—unspoken, but understood.

Ren followed me up to my room, her presence behind me solid, her steps slow and steady. Like she had nowhere to be but right here.

I stepped inside, and when I turned to close the door, she was already there.

She shut it for me.

And locked it.

I swallowed.

She didn't move right away. Just stood there, her eyes scanning my face like she was waiting.

I exhaled sharply and walked toward my bed, sitting on the edge, crossing my legs.

She leaned against the door, arms crossed over her chest, watching me.

Finally, I spoke.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" I asked.

She raised a brow, like she didn't understand the question.

I gestured vaguely. "Like... the whole world just saw us, Ren. My daddy is gonna—" I paused, shaking my head. "This isn't just some little thing."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. Then, she pushed off the door and walked toward me, slow, calculated.

"What's so bad about the world knowing about us?" she asked.

The question caught me off guard.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

She smirked. "What? You ashamed of me or something?"

My eyes snapped to hers. "What? No—"

"Then what's the problem?" she pressed, standing right in front of me now.

I hated that she could make me feel so flustered with just a few words.

I exhaled, looking down at my hands.

"I'm not ashamed of you," I muttered.

She tilted my chin up with her fingers. "Then say what you really scared of."

I stared at her, my throat tightening.

Then, finally, I let it out.

"My daddy."

Her expression didn't change. She just waited, patient, letting me speak.

I swallowed. "He's... he's homophobic." The words felt heavier out loud. Like they meant more than they ever had before.

Ren didn't react right away. She just studied me, her hand still under my chin, her thumb brushing against my jaw.

Then, after a long moment, she exhaled, her voice steady.

"I figured."

I blinked. "You did?"

She shrugged. "I know his type."

I chewed my lip, my chest feeling tight.

She stepped back, sitting next to me on the bed. "You scared of him?"

I hesitated.

Then, I nodded.

Ren didn't say anything for a while. She just looked at me, like she was thinking.

Then, she exhaled. "I get it."

I looked at her.

Her jaw was tense, like she was holding back something.

"My mom..." she started, then stopped, running a hand over her head before shaking her head. "She used to say shit too. Act like bein' gay was some kinda... disease. Like it made you less of a person."

I stared at her, my chest tightening even more.

I hated that she understood.

She glanced at me. "But you know what?"

I swallowed. "What?"

Her lips twitched into a small smirk. "She don't say that shit no more."

I frowned. "Why?"

Her eyes darkened, her voice dropping.

"Because she know I don't give a fuck."

I blinked.

She leaned back on her hands, stretching her legs out, like she was completely at ease.

"I spent too much of my life caring about what other people think," she said. "Ain't doin' that no more. Especially not for people who don't love me unconditionally."

She turned her head to look at me.

"You gonna let him scare you out of bein' happy?"

I swallowed hard, staring at her.

Her words settled deep in my chest, hitting a place I didn't even realize was so raw.

I wanted to say no.

I wanted to say I didn't care what he thought.

But I did.

And that scared me more than anything.

Ren sighed and stood up, stretching her arms before glancing at me. "Go take a shower."

I frowned. "Why?"

She gave me a look. "'Cause you been stressin' all night, and I know that shit sittin' on you. Go rinse it off. I'll be back."

Something about the way she said it made it impossible to argue. Like she wasn't just telling me to clean up—she was telling me to reset. To shake off everything from tonight, at least for a little while.

So, I listened.

I grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom. The second I stepped under the hot water, I felt my whole body unclench. My head tipped forward, and I let the steam surround me, sink into me.

Ren's voice played over in my head.

"You gonna let him scare you out of bein' happy?"

I closed my eyes.

I didn't want to.

I didn't.

But the fear was there, sitting in my chest like a weight.

I exhaled slowly, letting the water pour over me, trying to wash away the knots in my stomach.

I took my time, letting myself breathe. Letting myself feel safe.

When I finally got out, I dried off and slipped into a tank top and some shorts before climbing into bed. I grabbed my phone, but I didn't even check it.

I didn't want to deal with the outside world right now.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open.

I looked up, and my stomach did a little flip.

Ren stepped in, fresh out the shower, her locks still slightly damp. She had on black shorts and a white tank, her skin still glistening from the water.

My eyes dragged over her, taking in the way the fabric clung to her frame, how effortlessly fine she looked just standing there.

She flicked off the light, leaving just the soft glow of my bedside lamp before walking toward the bed.

She didn't say anything as she slid under the covers, adjusting like she belonged there.

She did.

But I suddenly felt awkward.

I didn't know what to do.

I wanted to curl into her, to let myself sink into the warmth she carried so easily.

But... I didn't want to be needy.

Didn't want to be too much.

So, I stayed still.

Kept my hands to myself.

Kept a little bit of space between us, even though my body ached to be near her.

I turned on my side, facing away, trying not to think about how close she was, how I could feel her body heat, how I wanted nothing more than to—

Then, she moved.

Her arm wrapped around my waist, effortless, certain, like she'd been planning to do it the whole time.

She pulled me against her, my back meeting her chest, her warmth swallowing me whole.

I sucked in a quiet breath.

She tucked her face into the crook of my neck, her voice low, sleepy.

"You really thought I was gon' let you lay over here by yourself?"

I swallowed, my heart picking up pace.

"I didn't... I didn't wanna be clingy," I admitted quietly.

She exhaled against my skin, her grip tightening. "You not."

I bit my lip. "You sure?"

She let out a tired chuckle. "Yanna."

"Hm?"

She nudged my neck with her nose. "Shut up and go to sleep."

I smiled a little, my body finally relaxing.

I let my hand rest on top of hers, my fingers tracing the lines of her knuckles before interlocking with hers.

Ren squeezed back.

And for the first time all night—

I breathed easy.