3.

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Me and Rina were meeting there, so after our usual air kisses and dramatic goodbyes, I hung up, tossing my phone onto my vanity.

I took one last look at myself in the full-length mirror, tilting my head as I turned to the side. The mini dress clung to me like it was custom-made, and my black heels? Ate every time.

"Yeah, they ain't ready," I murmured to myself, flipping my silky inches over my shoulder before finally leaving my room.

As soon as I stepped out, Ren was just there—posted up on the wall like a damn security detail, arms crossed, watching me with that calm, unreadable expression.

I approached her, chin high, heels clicking against the marble floor, and said, "Come."

She looked me up and down, her dark brown eyes moving slow, taking her time as they trailed from my glossy lips, down the curve of my waist, and finally landing on my thighs.

And then?

She licked her lips before nodding, stepping forward and walking behind me.

My stomach flipped, but I didn't let it show.

I just kept strutting, making sure my hips swayed just enough.

We made it to the garage, and I reached for my baby pink G-Wagon's keys from the hook, ready to slide into my driver's seat and be on my way—

But before I could even grab them, Ren's hand beat me to it.

Her fingers wrapped around the keys effortlessly, and she pulled them down, casually spinning them around her finger like she had all the time in the world.

I blinked, looking up at her. "Excuse me?"

She stayed completely unfazed. "I'll be driving," she said simply, her voice smooth and deep. "Your father's orders."

I rolled my eyes so hard my lashes almost flew off. "Of course."

With a sigh, I followed her to the passenger side, arms crossed, watching as she opened the door for me.

I stepped in, taking my time, knowing damn well this dress was riding high, my curves sitting just right.

And as I got in?

I caught her.

Her eyes dropped—quick, but noticeable—a subtle flicker of attention as she glanced down at my ass.

Like she was trying not to look but still did anyway.

I smirked to myself as I settled into my seat, adjusting my diamond anklet while she closed the door.

Yeah, I know it's fat.

The drive was silent. Uncomfortably so.

I sat back against the leather seat, arms crossed, letting out a long sigh just to break the tension. Ren, on the other hand, was focused, hands gripping the wheel with zero intention of starting a conversation.

Fine. I'd start it.

"So," I said, tilting my head toward her, "where you from?"

She barely glanced at me, eyes locked on the road. "Louisiana."

Oh. That made sense.

That smooth, lazy drawl dripping from her words? That's what it was.

I smirked. "That explains the accent. It's nice."

She just hummed.

A hum. That's it?

A sexy bitch, but still, a bitch.

I wasn't about to let this ride be awkward as hell, so I tried again. "How long you been doing this—bodyguarding or whatever?"

"Long enough."

I blinked. "Wow. Real descriptive."

For a second—just a second—I caught the tiniest smirk pull at her lips before it was gone, like she realized she was letting me see too much.

I sighed dramatically, giving up. Whatever.

Instead, I let my eyes drift to her hands—big, veiny, gripping the wheel with ease. She had rings on damn near every finger, gold and silver mixing together, catching the glow from the streetlights.

But the tattoos?

That was what caught my attention.

A design started at her knuckles, something written in script I couldn't make out, stretching all the way up her toned forearm, disappearing into the sleeve of her suit.

I bit the inside of my cheek, looking away.

Act normal, Yanna.

Luckily, before my thoughts went somewhere they shouldn't, I spotted Rina standing outside the club entrance, already looking for me.

"Oh, thank God."

Before Ren even had the car fully parked, I popped the door open, stepping out so fast I could feel the wind against my legs.

"Damn, Babydoll, you in a rush?" Rina called out, laughing as I power-walked up to her.

I didn't even answer. I just linked arms with her, whispering, "Bitch, this ride was painful."

She snickered, throwing a glance over at Ren, who was just now stepping out of the driver's seat, sharp eyes scanning the area like a hawk.

"Oh, but she fine though," Rina whispered back.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's go get lit."

And with that, we strutted toward the entrance, heels clicking against the pavement, ready to own the night.

As soon as we walked in, the heavy bass of the music vibrated through my chest, the dim neon lights casting a moody glow over the packed club. People were already dancing, drinking, living their best lives, and for a second, I was excited.

But that second didn't last long.

Because then—I saw him.

Wyatt.

Standing near the VIP section, surrounded by his boys, dressed in his usual preppy-rich-boy uniform—some overpriced button-down and a Rolex his daddy probably bought him. And just like that, my fun was over.

His eyes locked onto mine, and before I could even turn around and disappear into the crowd, he was already moving toward me.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath.

Rina must've seen him too because she squeezed my arm. "Oh, hell no."

I sighed, plastering on a fake-ass smile, but before I could even think of a way to dodge him, Wyatt was already standing in front of me.

"Babydoll," he said, reaching out to grab my wrist like he owned me.

I forced a tight-lipped smile. "Wyatt."

"You weren't answering my texts."

I shrugged, slipping my wrist from his grip. "I was busy."

Wyatt's jaw twitched, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he did what he always did—ignored my attitude and made decisions for me.

"Come on, you're with me tonight."

Before I could object, he wrapped an arm around my waist and steered me away from Rina, pulling me toward the VIP section where his boys were posted up, laughing loud, bottles already popping.

I shot Rina a desperate look over my shoulder, but she just rolled her eyes and mouthed, "Text me, bitch."

I sighed.

This was exactly why I didn't wanna see him tonight. Wyatt always did this. Every time he saw me, he acted like we were some perfect power couple, like I was some trophy girlfriend he could show off to his friends.

I wasn't.

And I was so tired of pretending.

As we walked, I stole a glance back toward the entrance, my eyes landing on Ren.

She was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, her expression unreadable as she scanned the club. Even in the chaos, she looked calm, in control—like nothing could shake her.

For a second, I wondered if she was watching me.

But then Wyatt pulled me into his lap as he sat down, and I had to force my attention back to the bullshit in front of me.

I shifted in Wyatt's lap, feeling the fabric of my mini dress riding up my thighs. Annoyed, I tried to stand, just to adjust myself—at least pull it down a little—but before I could, Wyatt's arm tightened around my waist, yanking me right back down.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Be good."

I froze.

Under normal circumstances, I liked that shit. I liked control, liked when somebody knew how to handle me. But coming from him?

Absolutely the fuck not.

It wasn't sexy—it was possessive. Controlling. Like I was some pet he was telling to behave.

I clenched my jaw, keeping my expression neutral, because if there was one thing I learned about Wyatt, it was that he thrived off reactions. He liked to see me squirm, liked when I got mad because it meant he had power over me.

I wasn't giving him that.

Instead, I reached for my glass of champagne, casually sipping like I wasn't mentally plotting my escape.

His boys were deep in conversation, laughing about something I didn't care about, while Wyatt's hand rested heavy on my thigh, like he had to make it known that I was his.

I glanced around the club, my eyes searching for Rina, but she was on the dance floor, already wrapped up with some dude, looking like she didn't have a single care in the world. Lucky her.

Then, almost on instinct, my gaze flickered toward the wall near the entrance.

Ren was still posted up, her stance firm, eyes sweeping the room with trained precision.

She looked completely unfazed, like nothing in this club mattered, but the second my gaze lingered too long, her eyes met mine.

I didn't know why, but something about her looking at me—at this—made my stomach flip.

I shifted again, trying to move Wyatt's hand off my leg, but he just gripped tighter, smirking like he won something.

Yeah. I needed to get the fuck up now.

I sighed dramatically and squirmed in Wyatt's lap, my patience wearing thin. "I need to pee."

Wyatt barely looked at me, sipping his drink like I was an afterthought. "I told you, stop all that whining," he muttered. "And you a lady, don't announce that shit."

I blinked.

Excuse me?

The audacity.

My nostrils flared, irritation bubbling up inside me because if there was one thing Wyatt did, it was act like he owned me. Like I was some decorative piece meant to sit there, look pretty, and keep my mouth shut.

I wasn't.

I forced a tight-lipped smile, batting my lashes like I wasn't irritated as hell, then wrenched myself off his lap before he could pull that possessive shit again. I adjusted my dress, smoothing it down over my thighs as I turned away.

I needed a breather. Not because I actually had to pee—but because I didn't need Ren's fine ass thinking I actually wanted this nigga.

I weaved my way through the crowd, ignoring the flashes of cameras, the drunk couples making out against the walls, the occasional sweaty body brushing against mine, until I finally reached the bathroom. I pushed inside, locking the door behind me, gripping the sink as I took a deep breath.

One thing about Wyatt?

He was exhausting.

I checked my phone—Rina had texted asking where I was—but before I could respond, I stared at myself in the mirror, reapplying my gloss.

Okay. Cool. I was fine.

I exhaled once, then twice, shaking off the irritation before unlocking the door and stepping back out—only to find Ren standing right outside.

I stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing. "You're creepy as hell, you know that?"

Ren's lips quirked up just slightly, one of her perfectly shaped brows lifting. "Yeah?"

And just like that, her dimples popped.

Shit.

I felt my stomach do a little flip, but I rolled my eyes and walked off quick, like the sight of her wasn't messing with me.

I didn't get far.

Because before I could even reach Rina, Wyatt's hand snatched my wrist again.

I stopped short, exhaling through my nose before looking up at him.

"What now?" I asked, exasperated.

Before I could even process what was happening, Wyatt grabbed my face and kissed me.

I didn't even react at first—just stood there, stiff, because what the hell was I supposed to do? Push him off in front of everybody? Cause a scene? God knew he'd make a big deal out of it if I did.

So I just let him, barely kissing back, letting the moment pass as quickly as possible.

When he pulled away, he cupped my cheek, giving me that same tired ass, apologetic look. "I'm sorry," he murmured, like that was supposed to fix everything.

I swallowed the groan rising up my throat and just forced a smile.

God, why am I stuck with him?

Before I could even think of an escape, he wrapped an arm around my waist again, pulling me back toward his group of arrogant-ass, trust-fund boys, like I was some prize he had just reclaimed.

I almost lost all hope—until, like an angel sent from above, Rina appeared.

She strutted over, looking too damn good in her tight little dress, and tapped on the shoulder of one of Wyatt's boys—a cute one, honestly, if you ignored the fact that he hung out with Wyatt and his minions.

She gave him her signature sweet smile, tilting her head. "Can I sit?"

His entire face turned red like she had just granted him an audience with a goddess. He damn near choked on his drink, but still nodded, stammering out a yes.

Rina didn't waste time. She slid right into his lap, crossing her legs all cute like she did this every day.

I could've kissed her.

Instead, my phone buzzed, and I saw her give me a quick side glance before motioning with her eyes for me to check it.

I pulled it out, glancing down discreetly.

Rina: U betta not tell my man about this 😭

I snorted, biting back a laugh before I texted back.

Me: GIRL LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE.

Rina glanced at her phone, then at me, smirking before leaning back into the guy's chest, acting completely unbothered.

I just shook my head, grateful as hell she was here.

Me and Rina were deep in a side conversation, talking cash money shit in low voices while the guys around us kept rambling about whatever boring-ass, rich-boy nonsense they thought was important.

I wasn't even listening.

Instead, I was stealing glances at Ren.

She was still posted up against the wall, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room like she was on duty at the White House. That smooth brown skin, them tattoos peeking from under her suit jacket, and that damn stone-cold expression made her look even finer under the dim club lights.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying not to stare too hard, but God. I hated how fine she was.

I nudged Rina with my elbow and subtly tilted my head toward Ren, signaling for her to peep.

She took one look, then turned back to me with a knowing-ass smirk.

I didn't even say anything, but the way my eyes were practically screaming 'Bitch, do you see her?!' was enough.

Rina giggled and wiggled her brows at me like we were still in middle school, making me roll my eyes.

Then, while keeping a straight face, I lifted my hands under the table where only she could see and made a very clear scissoring motion, pointing from myself to Ren.

Rina covered her mouth so fast, trying not to cackle. Her shoulders shook as she typed something quick on her phone and slid it across the table toward me.

I glanced down.

Rina: U a nasty bitch 😭😭

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud, shrugging innocently as I texted back.

Me: I call it manifestation.

She read it, then gave me a playful shove, shaking her head.

Meanwhile, Ren must've sensed all the attention on her, because she turned her head slightly in our direction, catching me mid-smirk.

I immediately snapped my face into something neutral, sipping my drink like I wasn't just making dirty hand gestures about her.

But the way her eyes lingered, the way she looked at me just a second too long before shifting her gaze away—yeah.

I knew she saw me.

And I knew she knew.

I was still giggling with Rina, trying to keep my eyes from drifting back to Ren, when suddenly, she was right in front of me.

She didn't say a word at first. Just extended her hand.

I blinked at it. Confused as hell.

"Come on," she finally said, her voice smooth, deep, and carrying that Louisiana drawl that made my stomach flip.

I frowned slightly, but still placed my hand in hers.

And whew—her grip was strong as hell.

Before I could even get my balance, she pulled me up effortlessly, like I weighed nothing.

I stumbled forward slightly, my free hand landing on her rock-hard forearm, and for a second, I swear I felt her smirk.

Wyatt, on the other hand, looked pissed.

"The hell you doin'?" he asked, his voice sharp.

Ren, still calm as ever, just glanced at him with zero emotion. "It's midnight," she said. "Time to go."

Simple. Direct. Not up for discussion.

Wyatt clenched his jaw like he wanted to argue, but Ren wasn't one of his little rich-boy friends he could bully into submission.

She was six feet of muscle, discipline, and unbothered energy.

He knew better.

So instead, he just sat there, gripping his drink so hard I thought the glass might crack.

I didn't even give him time to say something stupid and embarrassing in front of my future wife.

I turned to Rina and wrapped her in a hug, whispering, "Text me soon, bitch."

She hugged me back, whispering, "Manifest that shit."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing before pulling away, grabbing my bag, and following Ren out before Wyatt could find his balls again and try to stop me.

The ride home was quiet, but I didn't mind. Ren's presence alone was entertainment enough.

I stole little glances at her as she drove—her hand resting on the wheel, covered in rings, the way she held perfect posture, like she was always on alert.

She looked so good just existing.

When we finally pulled up to the house, she parked smoothly, then stepped out before I could even grab the handle.

She came around to my side, opening the door for me.

Ugh. Chivalry. I love a stud.

I stepped out, and she didn't say anything—just gave me a small nod before walking ahead, posting up outside my bedroom door like some fine-ass bodyguard straight out of a movie.

I lingered for a second, watching her, before slipping into my room and shutting the door behind me.

I didn't even hesitate—I stripped out of my dress, tossed my heels to the side, and went straight for the shower.

The hot water felt like heaven after the long-ass night, washing away the club sweat, the lingering scent of Wyatt's cologne, and the slight buzz from the shots me and Rina took earlier.

And as I lathered my skin, I kept thinking about Ren.

The way she pulled me up like I was weightless.

The way she didn't even blink at Wyatt's bullshit.

The way she lingered outside my door, keeping watch.

Yeah.

This was gonna be fun.

After my shower, I threw on an oversized tee, slid under my silk sheets, and knocked out almost instantly.

But not before one last thought crossed my mind.

I needed a new Instagram.