Chapter 942: What Just Happened
The end of the shoot struck Noor and Soraya like a bullet to the back of the skull.
Phei watched the a slow dawn of understanding that the golden hours had been numbered from the start, like sand slipping through fingers.
The day was over. The lights were being lowered, crew had begun shifting into that tired, efficient rhythm of people who had survived beauty, schedules, and directors with opinions. Cameras were being checked. Assistants were whispering into headsets.
And there, wrapped around him one on each side, Noor and Soraya began to wallow.
"This is so unfair," Soraya mumbled into his shoulder, "We finally get our hands on the single most ruinous man on the island, and the powers above schedule us for a one-day booking. Whoever runs the universe should be demoted."
"They would never agree on a replacement," Phei murmured, and pressed a kiss into her dark waves.
Noor said nothing for a moment, she rarely wasted words. But her arms tightened around him, and when she finally spoke, her cool composure had developed a visible crack down the middle.
"We knew the terms." She said it as if reciting the wording of a contract to keep herself from feeling the ink. "It was a one-day stand. That was always all it was supposed to be."
A pause, refusing to call it a one night stand.
Then, quieter, almost too soft to hear, like still water giving one last ripple beneath moonlight: "I simply had not decided whether I minded our arrangement. And now there is no time left to decide."
Neither woman said the true thing.
Neither said, I hoped this might become more than a on night stand.
They were too proud for that and aware of how absurd it would sound, two grown women going soft over one afternoon, as if one day had somehow walked into their lives with a beautiful face and stolen all adult dignity on its way out.
So they circled the truth instead.
They said unfair and left the wanting in the spaces between the words and trusted he was clever enough to hear it.
He was.
And gods help him, he did not want the day to end either.
By every shadowed throne and forgotten oath, the thought of their departure carved a hollow ache in the chambers of his chest, one he had no intention of enduring.
So, he let them cling on him.
Phei gathered Soraya’s chin between his fingers and kissed her slowly, deeply, until the wetness left her voice and something breathless replaced it. The kiss was no mere comfort; it was a deliberate unraveling slow pour of warmth that coaxed the chill of impending loss from her bones, replacing it with the dangerous spark of renewed wanting.
Then he turned and caught Noor’s mouth before she could rebuild her wall, feeling her exhale into him as that sealed-room composure cracked open just for him.
She was like still water surrendering the last of the sunset before darkness claimed the surface—yet even in surrender, there was a quiet defiance, as if she would remember this fracture long after the light faded.
They savored him.
He savored them back.
Phei returned every ounce of affection they poured into him, because a man who intended to spend a very long life with the women he kept did not rush their goodbyes, even when those goodbyes were already lies.
"You are making this worse," Soraya accused against his lips.
"I know," Phei said. "I am a terrible person. Everyone agrees."
A knock struck the door.
David’s voice came through, muffled and entirely without tact. "Phei! Interview’s ready, lover boy. Cameras are hot."
The two women deflated against him.
There it was; the final bell.
They kissed him one more time each.
Soraya’s was fierce, almost angry, as though she wanted to leave a mark on the moment itself. Noor’s lingered quieter, deeper, a farewell folded carefully beneath dignity.
Then, in a small flurry of competing self-control, both women pulled out their phones and pressed their numbers into his phone, but their fingers slowly brushed his. The gesture was delicate and desperate last attempt to leave a thread behind.
Phei smiled.
He pocketed his phone.
Instead, he said easily, "See you tonight."
They blinked at him.
"Unless you drove yourselves up here," he continued, already rising, straightening his collar lazily, "In that case, follow the convoy. Otherwise, there is a car waiting outside. It will take you to my place."
He paused, the corner of his mouth tilting.
"If you want it to. I would never impose. Tell me once and I will send it away, and you will never have to lay eyes on me agai..."
"It is not an imposition," Soraya said instantly.
"Not even slightly," Noor agreed, with a speed that betrayed every ounce of composure she had been performing.
Then they were on him again, hugging him so tightly that he laughed.
In the very next breath, both women pulled back and fixed him with identical murderous glares.
Phei gave a theatrical shiver. "There it is."
"You." Soraya jabbed a finger into his sternum. "You let us think this was a one day thing. You let us sit here grieving you like a funeral."
"I almost cried," Noor said flatly. "I want that entered into the record. I, who do not cry, I almost produced actual tears, over you."
"You watched us make complete fools of ourselves," Soraya continued, gaining speed now, fury arriving properly dressed and ready for war. "Wallowing. Bargaining with the universe. Pressing our numbers on you like a couple of desperate women, when the entire time you had already arranged the car? And you sat there letting us mourn?"
"You looked very beautiful mourning even better when you’re moaning, I can’t let get away." Phei offered.
"I will end you."
"You would miss me by tonight."
Soraya drew in a breath for what promised to be a comprehensive accusation, complete with supporting evidence and possibly a demand for reparations.
Phei leaned in and sealed her lips with his.
The sentence died on contact.
She made an outraged sound that dissolved almost immediately into something far less outraged.
Then he turned and did precisely the same to Noor, who had already opened her mouth to add a charge of her own and was rewarded instead with a kiss that stole the words and refused to return them.
When he pulled away, both women looked beautifully wronged.
"I have to run," he said, already moving toward the door as that easy authority settled back over him like a coat. "Be ready to meet part of my family tonight. And do not fret over it."
He caught Noor’s flicker of alarm before she could give it shape.
"They will love you," he said. "Both of you. Trust me on that, if nothing else."
Then he was gone.
Noor and Soraya remained where he had left them, mouths half-open, one question each already forming, both now stranded in the empty air where he had been.
Silence.
They looked at the door.
Then at each other.
"...What," Soraya said slowly, "the fuck just happened today?"
It was, Noor reflected as she sank into the nearest chair, a fair question.
The honest answer was that neither of them had the faintest idea.
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