Chapter 173: Already elsewhere

The two women’s glances lasted a few seconds on the door that Tom had just closed as if both couldn’t believe he had just walked out like that and refused to entertain them.

Stella was the first to remove her gaze from the door and fixed it on Sienna,

she cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at Sienna.

"What exactly are you doing?" she asked through her nose.

Sienna looked back at her and held the intense gaze. "What are ’you’ doing?"

The two women held each other’s gaze in silence for a second too long. The air in the room tightened around that stare, sharp enough that neither could think of anything else other than the meaning behind the stare. Stella finally hissed under her breath, the sound still managing to sound elegant even in irritation.

"Girl, the party’s over. You can go back to your room now." she said to Sienna.

"No, that’s not the right phrase. ’You’ should go back to your house." Sienna shot back, laying emphasis on the ’you’.

Her eyes moved over Stella with a slow assessment, taking in the sophistication, the elegant posture, the unbothered confidence that had always made her difficult to dismiss.

"You know, with all your glamour and elegance, I never thought you’d stoop this low. Hanging around a married man and still looking unashamed about it!" she slammed.

Stella let out an exaggerated soft chuckle, enough to sound almost amused and to pass out that indeed she was maintaining elegance;

"That man isn’t married." she deadpanned with a soft shrug.

"He is still my husband." Sienna maintained sharply.

Stella’s smile sharpened as she replied, looking at Sienna as if she was some pitiful child...

"You may enjoy your delusions, but do not expect the rest of us to share them. And for your information, I am still glamorous and elegant in every sense that matters. I came here to be with my lover. If you weren’t so less of how elegant you carried yourself, you wouldn’t have barged in with that low-class excuse about drinking together."

Sienna’s gritted her teeth. For a moment, raw anger threatened to surface and ruin the composure she was forcing herself to keep. Then she recovered, lifted her chin, and spoke more quietly.

"Have you forgotten what happens if this gets published? An engaged actress following a married man around?"

Stella walked back to the edge of the bed and sat with unhurried elegance, smoothing the line of her dress as if the confrontation had barely touched her. When she answered, her voice remained smooth;

"First, I am not engaged anymore. Second, you should also remember what happens to your career if the public learns your marriage was arranged. Girl, let’s not wash our dirty linen outside."

Sienna’s grip tightened around the bottle in her hand. The truth in those words landed so hard. She knew Stella was right. The launch still mattered. The image still mattered. Swallowing the rest of her pride took visible effort, but she managed it.

"Fine. Stay in your lover’s room but remember this is my house, do not pass your boundary, which is your lover’s room." she said tightly.

Stella’s smile turned faintly mischievous as she raised her bottle.

"To tolerance and understanding. Cheers."

Sienna clenched her jaw, but she still touched her bottle to Stella’s. The soft clink sounded more like a truce than a celebration.

~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, as he left the room, Tom had walked into the living room and sank onto one of the sofas.

He was annoyed, and the irritation sat heavier than the two women would know. It was not desire. It was not confusion. It was the sharp frustration of being dragged into a competition he had not asked to referee. Two proud women, both trying to claim ground through him, and neither of them interested in the fact that he might not be interested.

The System spoke into his mind after he settled onto the sofa.

[Host, Why did you refuse to loosen up and have fun?]

Tom hissed under his breath before he replied inwardly;

"Did you not see that this was not the moment for that kind of fun? With those two? Both of them jealous? No, I can’t never be interested."

The System stayed silent for a moment.

Tom frowned at the empty air. "Is there a penalty?"

The system made Tom wait a second before replying;

[No]

Tom blinked. He had expected one. The absence of punishment left the refusal feeling worthy than he anticipated, almost like the System had accepted the boundary. After a second, he decided not to waste the quiet. If he was already out of that room, he might as well use the time productively.

He picked up his phone, wanting to do something about the club but At that exact moment, Josie’s message came in.

’Looking forward to another day like today.’

Tom’s mouth curved into a small smile. There was no demand in the words, just a clean line left open for him to answer when he chose. That, coming from Josie Hale, the ever busy CEO of two companies, was something like a win. He dialed her number, and she picked up almost immediately.

"Since when are you a message person?" he asked gently.

Josie’s voice was calm. "Some words shouldn’t be said out loud."

Tom nodded in agreement, even though she could not see it. The line stayed quiet for a beat before she spoke again.

"Let me know whenever you have time to spend with me," she said. Then, with clear emphasis, she added, "me Only."

That last word carried more weight than a full argument and Tom smiled.

"Okay." The call ended at that.

He sat still for a moment longer, letting his mind wander; Josie had not asked about Stella. She had not probed. She had not competed for space in the conversation. She had simply drawn her boundary with one simple word and left the rest to him.

"Mature," he muttered with admiration.

Then he opened his browser and began searching ideas for the role-playing spaces he wanted the interior decorators to build into the club. Image after image moved across the screen; Some he dismissed immediately... Others he saved. After a few minutes, he forwarded a shortlist to Bree.

She called almost immediately.

And they fell into discussion without wasted greeting, trading notes on layout, privacy levels, and how far the concept rooms should go. Tom’s focus sharpened as the conversation continued. For the first time since leaving his room, the irritation in his chest eased completely. For him, work made more sense than jealousy. Progress made more sense than being pulled between two women who wanted to win something he had not offered as a prize.

At that moment, Sienna stepped out of his room.

She saw him on the sofa, holding his phone to his ear, with that serious expression and absorbed in whatever he was handling. Whatever she had still wanted to say stayed behind her teeth because he looked settled, focused, already somewhere else entirely.

She watched him for half a second longer, then turned and walked into her own room without interrupting.