Reborn Heiress: Escaping My Contract Marriage with the Cold CEO
Chapter 100: The Rum Was Gone

Chapter 100: The Rum Was Gone

VANESSA BELMONT JANG

The second the sliding door clicked shut, sealing Steve the Iguana’s scaly ass outside where he belonged, my knees gave out. I collapsed onto the nearest couch—which, admittedly, still smelled faintly of saltwater and reptile—and let out a groan that had been building since the moment that creature stole my very expensive lingerie.

Nathan flopped down beside me, his arm immediately curling around my waist like he was afraid I’d dissolve into hysterics if he didn’t anchor me. (He wasn’t wrong.) His shirt was rumpled, his hair was a disaster, and there was a suspicious green smudge on his elbow that I really hoped wasn’t iguana-related.

Ollie, still vibrating with adrenaline, clapped his hands together. "Okay, so that was awesome."

Leo, who looked like he’d aged ten years in the last ten minutes, dragged a hand down his face. "Ollie. Sweetheart. Light of my life. No."

"But Steve—"

"Is gone," Leo said firmly. "And if I ever see that thing again, I’m throwing him into the ocean myself."

I snorted. "You say that like he wouldn’t just swim back, drunk and pissed off, ready for round two."

Nathan shuddered. "Do not give the universe ideas."

The house was a disaster. The coffee table was scuffed from Ollie’s impromptu battle dance, the couch cushions were in disarray from our Great Escape, and my poor lingerie was somewhere in this house, possibly being used as a nest by a very smug reptile.

I groaned again, louder this time, and buried my face in Nathan’s shoulder. "I hate this island."

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "No, you don’t."

"I hate Steve."

"Fair."

Ollie, undeterred by the collective exhaustion radiating from the rest of us, bounded toward the kitchen. "Okay, but now we need snacks. And more rum. And—oh my God, Leo, look!"

We all froze.

That tone—the high-pitched, oh-shit-Ollie-found-something tone—was the same one that had preceded the Great Iguana Incident.

Leo was on his feet in half a second, already bracing for disaster. "What?"

Ollie held up a half-crushed box from the counter. "There’s chocolate."

I blinked. "...That’s it?"

"Premium chocolate." Ollie wiggled the box like it was a sacred artifact. "The fancy kind you get at resorts. This was hidden in the cabinet, which means it’s special."

Nathan let out a slow breath. "Okay. Chocolate is good. Chocolate is safe."

Leo, still tense, eyed the box like it might explode. "I don’t trust it."

Ollie gasped, clutching the chocolate to his chest. "Leo. Betrayal."

I pried myself off Nathan just enough to reach for the box. "Give it here. If it’s poisoned, I’ll die happy."

The chocolate was fancy—dark, rich squares dusted with sea salt and something that tasted like caramelized coconut. I moaned around the first bite. "Oh my God."

Nathan stole a piece, popping it into his mouth before making an identical noise of appreciation. "Okay. Maybe this island isn’t all bad."

Ollie beamed. "See? Steve was just the warm-up act. Now it’s party time."

Leo, still watching the chocolate like it might turn into another iguana, sighed. "I need a drink."

—

Two hours later, the rum was gone, the chocolate was demolished, and we were sprawled across the living room in various states of blissful intoxication. The storm had long since passed, leaving behind a sky so clear the stars looked like they’d been punched through the fabric of the night.

Ollie was draped across Leo’s lap, giggling at nothing. Leo, despite his earlier exhaustion, was smiling down at him like Ollie had personally hung the moon.

Nathan’s fingers traced idle patterns against my hip, his touch warm even through the thin fabric of my dress. I tilted my head back against his shoulder, watching the way the candlelight flickered across his face.

For the first time since we’d arrived—since the storm, since Steve—everything felt quiet.

Then the power went out.

Again.

Ollie yelped. Leo cursed. Nathan’s grip on me tightened instinctively.

And from somewhere outside—maybe the deck, maybe the bushes, maybe hell itself—came a distinct, mocking hiss.

I sat bolt upright. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

Nathan groaned. "Steve’s back."

Ollie gasped. "Steve!"

Leo stood so fast he nearly dumped Ollie onto the floor. "No. Absolutely not. We are not doing this again."

A shadow moved against the glass door. A long, creeping, reptilian shadow.

I grabbed the fireplace poker.

Nathan grabbed my free hand. "Vanessa. No."

"Vanessa yes," I hissed.

Steve’s beady eyes glinted in the moonlight as he pressed his face against the glass.

I raised the poker.

Steve licked the door.

Ollie burst into laughter. Leo groaned. Nathan buried his face in my shoulder.

The second Steve’s slimy tongue made contact with the glass, I knew we were doomed.

"He’s taunting us," I muttered, tightening my grip on the fireplace poker. "That little scaly bastard is taunting us."

Nathan, still half-laughing into my shoulder, squeezed my hand. "Babe, put the weapon down. We are not starting a turf war with an iguana."

"Too late," Leo said grimly, already stalking toward the door. "It’s already personal."

Ollie, of course, was delighted. He scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over the coffee table in his excitement. "Steve came back for us! He missed us!"

"Or he’s back for the chocolate," Nathan pointed out.

I gasped. "Oh my God. The chocolate." My eyes darted to the empty box on the counter. "What if he can smell it?"

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Outside, Steve scratched at the door.

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.

It was the sound of impending chaos.

Leo exhaled through his nose, his shoulders tense. "Okay. New plan. We ignore him. He’ll get bored and leave."

As if on cue, Steve headbutted the glass.

Thunk.

Ollie bit his lip to keep from laughing. Nathan groaned. Leo looked like he was seriously considering moving to a different island.

And me? I was done.

I marched toward the door, poker still in hand. "That’s it. I’m negotiating."

Nathan lunged after me. "Vanessa, no—"

Too late. I yanked the sliding door open.

Steve blinked up at me, his beady eyes full of pure, unrepentant mischief.

We stared at each other for a long, loaded moment.

Then, slowly, he opened his mouth.

And burped in my face.

"OH MY GOD!" I reeled back, gagging. "NATHAN, HE BURPED AT ME!"

Nathan lost it. He collapsed onto the couch, wheezing with laughter. Ollie wasn’t far behind, clutching his stomach as he gasped for air. Even Leo was cracking up, his stern facade crumbling in the face of Steve’s audacity.

Steve sashayed inside like he owned the place.

I pointed the poker at him. "You. Out."

Steve flicked his tail at me and made a beeline for the couch.

"Oh no," Nathan managed between laughs. "He’s moving in."

Leo wiped tears from his eyes. "We’re never getting rid of him."

Steve flopped down under the coffee table, eyeing us like we were the intruders in his villa. Then, with all the dignity of a tiny, drunken emperor, he sprawled across the wood and closed his eyes.

Ollie cooed. "Aww, he’s sleeping."

I gaped. "He’s what?"

Sure enough, within seconds, Steve was snoring.

That scaly son-of-a-bitch!