Mirabel doesn't answer the call. She walks straight into the hotel like her blood is boiling gasoline.
She's watched the video on loop. Janelle's soft gasps. Aster's hands. Janelle's desk.
She didn't cry.
She laughed.
But now?
She's standing at Naya's hotel room door.
And Naya opens it like she's been waiting.
"Mirabel... You look like hell."
"Good. I came to give you a tour."
The slap comes fast. Naya stumbles, cheek red, grin wider.
"Did I lie?" Naya purrs, backing into the room. "Or did I just show you what you didn't want to see?"
Mirabel follows, dangerous and quiet. Her eyes... wild.
"You want her, don't you?"
"She's not yours."
"She was never yours."
Mirabel doesn't speak. She just shoves Naya onto the bed and climbs over her, gripping her wrists hard above her head.
"You like recording things?" she growls. "Let's record this."
She kisses her rough. Bites her lip until it bleeds.
Naya moans into it like she's won.
But then Mirabel flips her body over, pulling hair, dragging nails down her back.
"You think you're playing me? Huh?"
"You're just my anger wearing lipstick."
Naya tries to bite back, but her knees give. Her hands tremble.
"You want to ruin me?" Mirabel whispers in her ear.
"Then beg me to destroy you."
Clothes rip. Breathing's heavy. The room smells like perfume and violence.
No music. Just wet skin. Hands clutching sheets.
A rhythm made of rage, betrayal, and the sick, burning need to feel something.
Mirabel doesn't kiss gently.
She claims. She devours.
Naya scratches down her spine wanting more, needing more.
But Mirabel smiles darkly.
"This isn't about you, baby…"
She wraps her hand around Naya's throat, just enough.
You're just the revenge she'll taste on my skin later."
Since you her, her toy.
---
To be continued