Plotting!

Chapter 6: Plotting! 

Raphael handed Ines a pile of clothes. 

"Here, these should fit," he said, though judging by the size of them, that was wishful thinking.

Ines took them, eyeing the oversized hoodie and sweatpants like they were a personal insult. 

"Are these your clothes or a tent rental?"

Raphael smirked. "Just put them on."

She sighed dramatically but retreated to the guest room to change. 

As expected, the hoodie practically swallowed her whole. 

The sleeves dangled past her fingertips, and the sweatpants needed to be rolled three times before they stopped threatening to slip off. 

She caught sight of herself in the mirror and groaned.

 "Great. I look like a walking laundry pile."

Meanwhile, Raphael had gone to the living room where Celeste was waiting with her arms crossed, and her manicured fingers tapper impatiently against her elbow. 

"So," Celeste began, shaking her head to the sides. "You're really doing this?"

Raphael rubbed his jaw. "It's done."

Celeste let out some air from her mouth.

 "And what exactly is the plan here, Raphael? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're about to make a colossal mess."

"It's none of your concern, Celeste."

She scoffed and frowned at the same time. 

"None of my concern? You think you can play house with some fragile little heiress and not expect it to blow up in your face?"

Unbeknownst to them, Ines had wandered closer, her tiny feet made no sound against the hardwood floor. 

She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but when she heard her name, she paused.

"You're going to use her, aren't you?" Celeste accused. "That's the whole point, isn't it? Get close. Get what you want. And then what? Toss her aside?"

Ines's breath stopped in her throat. 

The hoodie's oversized collar suddenly felt suffocating, the fabric way too heavy. 

She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, but continued listening.

Raphael's voice was stable but it was hard to tell what he meant exactly.

 "You don't know what you're talking about."

Celeste laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Oh, but I do. And so will she… eventually."

Ines didn't hear anything after that. 

Her pulse was a drum in her ears, drowning out reason, drowning out logic.

She had suspected that Raphael had his own reasons for agreeing to this crazy marriage. 

But hearing it confirmed from someone else's mouth? 

That was different. That was real.

She turned on her heel and rushed back into the guest room, slamming the door behind her with enough force to shake the walls.

"I knew it," she whispered to herself. "I knew this was too good to be true."

Ines was mad. 

No, scratch that—she was furious. 

Livid. Seething. 

The kind of mad that made people talk to themselves in the mirror like a villain planning their revenge. 

And the worst part? She had absolutely no idea why.

Okay, maybe she had a tiny idea.

Celeste.

Miss Tall, Blonde, and Obviously Up to Something had walked into Raphael's house like she owned the place, looked Ines up and down like she was a cockroach in her cappuccino, and then had the audacity…to open her perfectly glossed lips and insult her.

"Skinny?" Ines scoffed. 

That woman was just jealous she could eat an entire pizza and not gain an ounce. 

Probably. Maybe. 

Okay, that was a lie. 

Ines hadn't had pizza in three weeks because stress was her new diet, but that was beside the point!

"What are you so mad about?" she muttered to herself as she paced around the massive guest room Raphael had shoved her into. 

"It's not like I care what some wannabe Barbie thinks."

She threw herself onto the giant bed, glaring up at the ceiling. 

Her legs were swimming in the sweatpants Raphael had given her, and she had to roll up the waistband three times just to keep them from falling off. 

The sweatshirt? An entire catastrophe. 

It was like wearing a tent, and she was one gust of wind away from being airborne.

"Why does he even own clothes this big? Does he secretly transform into the Hulk at night?"

She flailed her arms dramatically, trying to push the sleeves back up, but they just fell over her hands again.

"Ugh! This is unacceptable!"

And yet, the bigger problem? Celeste.

"She should mind her own business!" Ines huffed, rolling onto her stomach.

 "Who does she think she is, strutting in here like she's the queen of England, making snide little comments about me?" 

Her voice turned high-pitched as she mimicked Celeste, "Oh, sweetie, you're so skinny! Here, borrow my clothes, I'm such a lady."

Ines flopped onto her back again and groaned dramatically. 

"I'm going to put salt in her coffee. No. Too petty. Maybe hide one of her high heels. No, she probably has a backup pair in her car." 

She gasped. "I'll unplug her phone charger at night so she wakes up with only 5% battery!"

That was evil…

She liked it.

A knock at the door made her sit up quickly, nearly losing her balance because Raphael's sweatpants were trying to betray her. 

She grabbed the waistband just in time as Raphael stuck his head in.

"Hey, you okay? You're talking to yourself pretty loud."

Ines crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look. "I am perfectly fine."

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "You look like you're about to fight your own reflection."

"Maybe I am. Maybe my reflection also has a bad attitude and an even worse taste in blondes."

Raphael sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Please don't fight Celeste. I really don't have the energy to break up a catfight tonight."

Ines gasped dramatically.

 "A catfight? You think I'd engage in something as cliché as a catfight?" She scoffed.

 "No, no. If I take her down, it'll be psychological warfare. The long game. A slow, subtle destruction of her patience and sanity."

Raphael blinked. "That might actually be scarier."

"Good. Now go away. I need to plot."

He sighed and left, muttering something about "what have I gotten myself into?" as he closed the door.

Ines flopped back down with a satisfied smirk.

Celeste had no idea what type of person Ines actually was…

She might come from a rich family, but her ways of revenge were far from this. 

"And what the heck Raphael was talking about?"