ELLA POV:
Okay, I’m a stickler for ti, and right now it’s 9 PM on the dot, and Jason has officially stood up. Typical. I don’t know why I thought for one second he could actually be on ti. I an, the guy barely showed up to class half the ti. The party was supposed to start now, and here I am, sitting in my room, all dressed up, waiting like so kind of Cinderella—except without the whole fairy godmother thing going on.
Honestly, I wasn’t trying to make so grand entrance. I hated attention like that. The last thing I wanted was to walk into that party late, with every single person there turning their heads to see who was walking in. Nope. I wasn’t about to give the dia or anyone else that mont. The mask was already doing enough favors by hiding half my face, but it couldn’t stop a hundred pairs of eyes from gawking at .
The gown I’d pulled out—a sleek, dark erald green that hugged every curve just right—was perfect. And it wasn’t so cheap party-store mask either. I had standards, after all. The mask was simple but elegant, the kind that kept you mysterious without making you look like you were trying too hard.
I checked my phone for what felt like the hundredth ti. Still nothing. Not even a "Running late" text or whatever other excuse he could co up with. I stood by the window, tapping my foot impatiently, watching as the minutes ticked by. I could have just gone on my own, but nooo, I had to agree to go with Jason, the King of Lateness.
Ugh. Why did I let him talk into this?
I sighed, glancing at the clock again. 9:05 PM. Five minutes. Fine, I could afford to be fashionably late. But if he wasn’t here by 9:10, I was leaving without him. I don’t need a guy to show up to a party. I’d walk in on my own, deal with the whispers and stares, and get this night over with.
Seriously, if this bafoon doesn’t show up soon...
And there it was—the knock I’d been waiting for. Finally. I exhaled in frustration, grabbed my purse, and slipped into those cursed silver heels. Whoever invented these things must have had a serious grudge against won. My feet were already protesting, but I was determined to pull through. A quick glance in the mirror told I was ready to rock this masquerade ball. Kingsley style.
With my gown flowing perfectly and the mask secured, I strode toward the door and swung it open, expecting so half-hearted apology for his lateness. Instead, what I found was Jason, fidgeting like a schoolboy who’d been caught skipping class. But, damn, did he clean up nicely.
He stood there in a black tuxedo that fit him like a dream. The cut was sharp, tailored to perfection, and the way it clung to his broad shoulders? Well, let’s just say he looked every bit the hot, attractive CEO you’d see on a magazine cover. His hair was slicked back, giving him an edge of sophistication that was totally different from his usual casual, laid-back vibe.
For a mont, I was caught off guard. I had been ready to give him a piece of my mind, but now, all I could do was stand there, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. He raised an eyebrow, smirking as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
"Wow... you look..." He paused, his voice slightly husky as he tried to find the words.
"Like I’m ready to get this night over with?" I quipped, trying to pull myself together.
Jason chuckled, his eyes scanning from head to toe. "You look stunning, Ella."
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, well, you clean up pretty well yourself. Now, are we going to stand here all night, or are we actually going to this masquerade?"
He grinned, offering his arm. "After you, Miss Kingsley."
I took a deep breath, slid my arm through his, and stepped out the door. The night was just beginning, and I had no idea what was in store. But one thing was certain—I was ready to face whatever this party, or Jason, threw my way.
"I don’t want to die today, King! Keep your fucking eyes on the road!" Ella’s voice snapped out of my thoughts for what had to be the fifth ti.
I tore my eyes away from her and refocused on the road, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Yeah, well, could anyone bla ? She was a pretty damn big distraction sitting there beside , looking like she owned the night. But there was sothing else. Sothing gnawing at the back of my mind that I couldn’t shake.
She looked familiar—too familiar.
I glanced at her again, just for a second this ti, as she glared at like she was ready to jump out of the car and walk the rest of the way if I kept screwing around. Those blue eyes... I swear I had seen them before. Not just here at school, not just in passing, but sowhere important. Sowhere I should’ve rembered.
It was like I was on the edge of recalling sothing, but it kept slipping away every ti I tried to grab it. Had I seen her before all of this? Before she beca "Ella," the girl who hated and my guts? Or was it soone else who looked just like her? A feeling of déjà vu hit like a brick, but I couldn’t place it.
The thought was eating at , but I didn’t want to ask and sound like so weirdo. She was already pissed that I was barely paying attention to the road, and if I asked her about so weird sense of familiarity, she’d probably roll her eyes at again or think I was making so la excuse to keep looking at her.
"Eyes on the road, Jason," she warned again, this ti softer, but the edge was still there. She wasn’t playing.
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. Whatever it was, I’d figure it out. I had ti. But right now, I needed to focus on getting us to that party in one piece. Whatever familiarity or mystery she held, I wasn’t about to let it distract any longer.
And walla, we were here.
I parked the car and took a deep breath. The party was already buzzing, and I could feel the energy even from outside. All the planning, the changes—everything was falling into place. Now I just hoped the guys wouldn’t screw it up. No one was supposed to know about until the right mont. The climax of the event. The reveal.
I glanced over at her, still sitting there looking both stunning and annoyed at the sa ti. God, she had no idea the effect she had on people. On .
And then there was the part I’d been looking forward to all night: the photos. With my lovely lady right beside , the caras would flash, and the world would see us together. I’d make sure to grab every magazine that published those shots and—well, yeah, maybe it was a bit creepy, but I’d cut them out and plaster them all over my bedroom wall.
Obsessed much?
What can I say? For her, anything.
But I had to keep cool. No need to give off that vibe. Not yet. The night was still young, and this was just the beginning of whatever the hell this was going to turn into. I’d take it slow, play it right. She was the prize, and everyone else? They’d see it soon enough.
The second I stepped out of the car, the paparazzi sward. It was like they had a radar for high-profile arrivals, especially anyone with the last na King. A few of them had been snapping shots of Amber, but as soon as they saw , it was like a feeding frenzy. I could feel the heat from the cara flashes against my skin, hear the rapid-fire clicks as they scrambled to capture every angle.
Even with the mask on, they recognized . They always did. The paparazzi were like relentless bloodhounds, sniffing out the big nas no matter how well soone tried to hide. But tonight, there was an extra layer of intrigue. They noticed I wasn’t alone, and their attention quickly shifted to the mysterious woman at my side.
I caught a glimpse of Ella, her mask perfectly designed to cover most of her face, leaving just enough to spark curiosity. She was a vision of mystery, elegant and untouchable, the kind of enigma that drives these cara-happy vultures wild. They would have a hard ti figuring her out tonight, and that was the plan. Unlike Amber or the other socialites, Ella wasn’t a household na, nor was she the daughter of so big shot.
They wouldn’t know her identity, not tonight. But they would definitely be dying to find out.
User Comments
0 comments from readers