Sabotage: A Dark Enemies to Lovers Romance

“A whore like her will fuck anything,” Nate growls, pointing over at me.

“Obviously.” Colt looks him up and down and then chuckles to himself. “She did fuck you.”

Nate shoves Colt in the chest. “Watch it, Colt.”

Colt takes a step back and lifts his hands in the air as if he’s not going to fight Nate, his laughter growing. “Ask her who else she fucked last night?”

“Colt!” I snap, trying to fight Finn, but he keeps me held hostage.

Nate looks over at me, lips thinning, and demands, “What the fuck is he talking about, Raylee?”

I lick my lips nervously but can’t make myself say the words out loud. It will just prove how big of a slut I really am. All his friends will be right. The whore cheated on you, what did you expect?

“What the fuck is he talking about?” he shouts, making me flinch.

“I—”

“And don’t fucking lie to me!” His voice rises, bouncing off the white walls in the kitchen. “Did you fuck him last night while I was in your bed?”

I feel tears sting my eyes, and my body vibrates with my hatred toward Colt. Having to announce I’m a whore is harder than I expected. “Yes,” I manage to say.

He just stands there, glaring at me. The look of disgust makes me want to apologize, but it won’t do any good. And am I even really sorry? I did something, and I’m going to own up to it. What I did was wrong, but that doesn’t mean he has to accept an apology.

Without saying another word, he turns and storms out of the kitchen. Finn lets go of me when one of the front doors slam shut.

“Guess you’re free for dinner now?” Alex chuckles.

Silence falls over the room, and I swallow the knot that forms in my throat. Why am I the whore? Colt was literally fucking Amy just minutes before he was screwing me in the shower, so why am I the only one who is in the wrong? How do I know that Nate hasn’t been sleeping with other women?

Colt turns to face me. “Prin—”

I slap him across the face, my teeth grinding at the sting on my palm from connecting with his cheek. He takes in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring, and I hate that tears start to burn my eyes. Instead of yelling or begging—for I don’t know what—I exit the kitchen and head up to my room, needing to get away from them. I don’t give a damn what Colt had to say.

It wouldn’t matter anyway. We did what we did. Can’t change it now.

COLTON

“THANKS FOR THE ride,” I tell Finn before jumping out of his car. Since Raylee set mine on fire, I don’t have means of transportation until I buy a new one.

I was going to make her take me to our lunch date with our parents, but I haven’t seen her since she slapped me after I gave Nate back his phone and informed him that we fucked earlier this morning.

Entering the Victorian mansion, I find everyone already in the formal dining room. Raylee sits across from her mother, head down as she stirs the soup around in a bowl.

I pull out the seat next to her and plop my ass down.

“Good afternoon, Colton.” Her mother smiles at me.

“How was the trip?” I ask, making small talk.

“It was wonderful.” Her crystal-blue eyes look over at my dad, and he gives her his charming smile.

My father’s butler comes up to my chair. “What may I get you to drink?”

“Water, please,” I answer.

“I’ll have a bottle of Moscato.” Raylee lifts her hand to him.

“Raylee, I don’t think—”

“I’m old enough to drink, Mother,” she interrupts her mom, who just purses her lips and decides not to argue with her.

Tiffany is naturally pretty. She’s got dark hair and blue eyes like her daughter. I know she gets Botox in her forehead, but other than that, she doesn’t have fake lips or tits like the women my father dated before he met her. When he brought her home, I was surprised. She didn’t drive a Bentley or wear a lot of jewelry. My father’s always been into the flashy women who flaunt their money. Tiffany had none. I never saw her as a gold digger, though. I wasn’t one of those kids that thought she was going to come into my family and try to take what’s mine. No, everything was great until Raylee entered my life.

My feelings changed the moment I met her.

Six years ago

I’m in the kitchen making a sandwich when I hear my father’s voice followed by a feminine laugh. They enter a second later.

“Hello, Colton,” his fiancée greets me with a smile. She’s got her hand in my father’s, and I haven’t seen the look of such pure joy on his face since—ever, really.