Cressida’s heels echoed softly down the corridor as she made her way back to the lounging area, her thoughts swirling with unease.

It had been twenty minutes now. Adeline had excused herself to the restroom, claiming she needed privacy for… a rather crude reason. At first, she had smiled at the honesty, but now the delay felt strange.

She glanced at the grand hallway clock. Still no sign of her.

She had decided to find Martin, perhaps to confirm the president’s schedule or distract herself with some sense of usefulness. But the man was nowhere in sight. Instead, when she knocked on his room and the door cracked open, she had not been prepared to find her.

That woman.

The one with soft, sleepy eyes and tousled hair, who answered in nothing but shorts and a cropped top, with a smug look of someone who belonged… no, owned the space she stood in.

She was beautiful, undeniably so. Not the overly polished elegance Cressida prided herself on, but natural and magnetic, the kind of beauty that didn’t require effort to captivate.

It had caught Cressida off guard. She had stammered a confused apology, the woman’s smile laced with a knowing edge that made her skin crawl and yet, left her breathless.

Now she sat alone on one of the estate’s lavish couches, fingers clenched together in her lap, staring at nothing.

A strange feeling coiled in her gut, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Jealousy? Maybe.

Doubt? Definitely.

Because if what she saw was what she thought it was, then Adeline’s absence had little to do with the restroom and far more to do with that woman in Martin’s room.

A woman who was clearly not with Martin. Everyone knew Martin had no interest in women. He had never once been seen entertaining any, no whispers, no scandals, not even friendly flirtation.

Cressida’s eyes narrowed. Her back straightened.

This wasn’t going to be the last time she saw her.

And something deep in her gut warned her: this wasn’t just a stranger visiting. No. This woman was already wrapped in the president’s sheets… and maybe her heart.

Cressida exhaled slowly, her jaw tight.

*

With perfect timing, Adeline reappeared at the end of the hallway.

She was dressed in a tailored white suit, her hair slicked back with clean precision, a pair of white heels clicking softly against the floor with every step. The sunlight pouring in through the windows kissed the lines of her silhouette. Sharp, commanding, untouchable.

Cressida blinked, pulled sharply out of her thoughts. She had never seen someone wear control like a second skin.

Adeline stopped just in front of her and offered a soft smile. “Sorry I took so long. I had to get dressed.”

Cressida stood abruptly, fumbling over her own words. “Whe… where are you off to?”

Adeline’s smirk tilted at the corner of her mouth, cool and composed. “How about we go out?” She rolled her shoulders slightly. “I feel a little stuffy in here.”

Cressida’s heart jumped. Whatever suspicions she’d had only moments ago melted away at the offer. She nodded, a flush rising to her cheeks. “Certainly!”

*

They were in the presidential car not long after, the engine humming softly beneath them. The city blurred past the tinted windows as the driver took them through the quieter routes of the capital.

Cressida sat beside Adeline, legs crossed neatly, sneaking occasional glances at her. The president looked serene, her face turned toward the window, fingers lightly resting on her lap. But the nagging image of that woman — smug, barefoot in Martin’s room, refused to disappear.

It gnawed at her.

She wet her lips, cautiously.

“Madam President,” she said finally, her voice smooth but edged with curiosity, “do you… do you know the woman in Martin’s room?”

Adeline’s gaze slowly turned to her, one brow lifting ever so slightly. “There’s a woman in Martin’s room?”

Cressida nodded, watching her carefully for a crack in that presidential calm.

Adeline pulled her phone from her coat pocket, unlocking it without a flicker of expression. She dialed and raised it to her ear.

“Martin,” she said after a beat. “Cressida said there’s a woman in your room. Should I be concerned about a scandal?”

Her tone was light, almost teasing.

Cressida watched her, brow furrowed slightly, unsure whether to believe her or not. Something about the president’s calm… felt too perfect.

Adeline listened for a few seconds, then her lips curled in faint amusement. “Ah. Kindergarten friend? How nice.” She laughed, the sound low and elegant. “Alright then. Thanks for the update.”

She ended the call and slipped the phone back into her pocket, turning toward Cressida again with a look of disbelief. “Apparently,” she said, “Martin has a long-lost friend from kindergarten visiting. He’s full of surprises, isn’t he?”

Cressida blinked, her mouth opening then closing. “Oh… I see. I didn’t realise he… invited people over.”

Adeline smirked and turned back toward the window. “Neither did I.”

But she said nothing more.

And Cressida sat in silence, her hands folded in her lap, the seed of doubt still quietly blooming in her chest.