I never would’ve been here without Jules and Myra. I wish they could enjoy it at my side. They deserve it as much as me.
Next time, I mentally promise them. When this whole deal with my stepmother is done. They deserve to live out of the shadows too.
Every guest followed the dress code, their faces covered from their unique masquerade masks.
I’d like to know how much money was spent dressing everyone tonight. From the lavish gowns and tuxes to the diamonds, gold, and silver dripping from everyone’s wrists, neck, and ears.
My fingers brush my collarbone, barren of any jewels. But I don’t mind, the dress and mask are sparkly enough on their own.
Guests begin turning their heads. I follow, and my blood runs cold, any confidence I had a moment ago leaving my body.
It’s Adrianna.
God, she certainly looks the part of a doting bride-to-be.
She’s decked out head to toe in all the things that I made her. Countless hours upon hours, grinding myself down to the bone to ensure it’d be ready on the tight deadline she had given me.
Anger begins boiling beneath the surface of my skin. I hate her so much.
Most of my time is spent forcing myself tonotthink of her, to not allow myself to get worked up.
But standing here, hearing everyoohandaahas she walks by, people unaware of the monster she really is, makes me want to burn it all to the ground.
But no matter how much I wish her torment, I could never do so myself. I know I don’t have it within me. Karma will sort her out in due time.
Her eyes skate along the room, getting closer and closer to me.
My heart rate kicks up as her gaze drifts across me. It flicks back for a moment, studying my face. But a second later, she moves on, not batting an eye.
I feel nearly invincible.
I can be and act however I want, and no one will know who I am by tomorrow.
Something settles within me—a calmness that feels foreign but comforting. I can do whatever I wish tonight without consequence.
The problem is … I don’t know who I want to be. Who am I without limitations and rules? I’ve never been set free like this.
I could be brave and dance with a thousand men. Or I could watch from the shadows and take it all in, like I’m doing right now.
I could run around the gardens and make a fool of myself, and none of it would matter because no one would know who I was.
Regardless, the choice is mine and mine alone. That’s what matters most.
Let’s start with a little walk through the room.
Head high. Chin up. Be confident.
I got this.
When I take a step forward, my breath freezes in my throat, all of the blood in my body pooling to my feet.
Oh God, I totally do not have this.
“Cheese stuffed olive, dear?” Steven, one of my coworkers on the Kensington staff, offers me an hors d’oeuvre.
I politely decline. “No, thank you.”
He seems to home in on me more sharply, like he recognizes my voice or me in some way.
