"I know what you're doing," Vivienne began, her voice low and biting, tinged with barely concealed venom. "And I want to tell you that it's not going to work."
Tatum didn't even flinch. Instead, she exhaled another puff of smoke, letting it linger between them before flicking the cigarette away with a casual flick of her wrist. The smoke curled upward, enveloping Vivienne's face momentarily and causing her to step back, coughing lightly.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Vivienne," Tatum said nonchalantly, her tone carrying an edge of boredom. Her eyes locked on Vivienne's with the kind of calm that unnerved people. "And to be honest, you bore me a little more every time you open your mouth."
She stubbed out her cigarette on the nearby marble ledge and finally straightened, her gaze now fully fixed on the redhead. It was the first time she gave Vivienne her undivided attention, and the weight of it made Vivienne's attitude falter just slightly.
Tatum's voice softened, but her words cut deeper. "Let me be perfectly clear. You don't interest me, your opinions don't interest me, and your desperate attempts to grab attention? They're not even on my radar."
Vivienne's lips pressed into a thin line, her frustration bubbling over. "It's about Aiden," she snapped, her voice rising slightly. "About you. About how you almost kissed him, twice! Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about!"
As Vivienne stepped closer, Tatum lifted a single finger and pressed it lightly to her chest, halting her advance. The gesture was delicate yet commanding, a silent warning.
"Vivienne," Tatum said, her tone dropping into something colder, sharper. "I'm going to say this once, and only once. I'm not interested in you. Not in your life, your breakfast choices, or whatever imaginary competition you think we're in. So spare me your fantasies, because if you really wanted to be seen, you'd have figured it out by now."
Vivienne's eyes widened slightly at the comment, but she quickly masked it with indignation. "Who do you think you are, putting yourself above me like that?" she retorted, though her voice lacked some of its earlier conviction. "You could easily go back to where you left off."
Tatum tilted her head, a soft, mocking laugh escaping her lips. "Where I left off? Hell, Vivienne," she said, her gaze turning steely, "they wouldn't take me back."
The statement hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, Vivienne didn't know how to respond. The weight of Tatum's past, loomed between them like a shadow.
Tatum stepped closer now, her voice calm but laced with an undeniable finality. "As for Aiden," she continued, "he's under my protection. That's it. And if you keep talking to me, you'll be splitting your salary with me."
Vivienne flinched slightly at the remark, clearly rattled, but she refused to back down entirely. She opened her mouth to retort, but Tatum had already turned on her heel and begun walking away.
The lively hum of the party seemed distant to Tatum as her sharp green eyes scanned the room, searching for... something. Or maybe someone. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but the gnawing unease in her gut refused to let her rest. The crowd swayed and mingled, laughter and clinking glasses filling the air, but none of it seemed to reach her as she moved purposefully through the space.
Suddenly, she felt it, a hand reaching for her shoulder. Without thinking, her instincts kicked in. In a swift, fluid motion, she spun around, grabbing the wrist of the would-be toucher, twisting it behind their back, and pinning them to the wall. The man let out a surprised laugh, and Tatum's eyes rolled as she realized who it was.
"Easy, little beast," Kyle chuckled, his grin wide despite being restrained. "Didn't think you had such sharp senses, but I guess it's obvious why you're the bodyguard."
Tatum released him with an exasperated sigh. "Kyle," she muttered, her tone dry. "Sneaking up on me at a party is not the best idea."
He rubbed his wrist playfully as he fell into step behind her. "Noted," he said with a smirk. "But come on, you've got to admit, your reaction time is impressive. Makes me feel very safe."
"Yeah, yeah," she said dismissively, her focus already drifting back to the task at hand. She wasn't sure what she was hoping to find, but the one person she did want to locate was nowhere in sight. "How are you, Kyle? Everything okay?"
He hesitated, and she caught the flicker of unease in his expression before he spoke. "Yes, apparently there's something... unexpected."
Tatum stopped mid-step, turning to face him with a mix of curiosity and concern. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice low but firm.
Kyle rubbed the back of his neck, visibly disturbed. "Turns out, the man she thought was the baby's father isn't actually the father."
Tatum blinked, her jaw dropping slightly as the words sank in. "WHAT?!" she exclaimed, her voice sharper than intended. She tilted her head, both shocked and, if she was honest, slightly amused by the sheer drama of it all. "You've got to be kidding me."
Kyle gave her a lopsided grin. "Oh, trust me, I'd love to spill the tea, but let's just say this party has enough chaos brewing as it is. And I have a feeling you've got your own chaos to deal with."
He was right.
Her phone lit buzzed in her hand.
Louis: I got that bastard's address.
Tatum: Send it.
Louis: His name is Magnus Schulz, does it ring a bell?
Tatum: A lot of them.
Louis: Do you still need the address?
Tatum: Not at all. Thank you.
Let's do a Tarantella motherfucker.