[IRAYA]
The dress arrived in an elegant, silver box tied with a deep crimson ribbon.
At first, I ignored it, pretending it didn't exist, but the sharp knock on my door followed by a single, unmistakable note—From Lyander—reminded that I couldn't escape this evening.
The dress was stunning, a masterpiece of shimring white silk with delicate lace details that ran along the hem and neckline. It looked like sothing plucked out of a fairy tale, the kind of dress ant to turn heads and leave an impression.
The problem wasn't the dress; it was what it represented—an obligation I couldn't refuse.
I sighed as I slipped into the gown, knowing full well that saying no to Lyander 'the devil' De Dantis was never an option. It wasn't because he would force —no, that wasn't his style. It was because he carried an air of silent authority that made disobedience feel . . . wrong. You didn't reject Lyander. You just didn't.
By the ti I arrived at the De Dantis mansion, night had already fallen, and the estate was lit up like sothing out of a dream.
Thousands of tiny lights draped over the ancient trees, casting a soft glow over the vast open field where the event was being held. The mansion itself lood in the background, a grand, old-world structure with towering columns and balconies that stretched endlessly.
The field was packed with people, hundreds of them mingling effortlessly, dressed in gowns and suits that scread wealth and power. I felt small in comparison, despite the extravagant dress Lyander had sent.
My fingers tightened around the small clutch I carried, and I took a steadying breath. I didn't belong here, and yet, here I was, standing among people who probably didn't even know my na.
I moved carefully through the crowd, keeping to the edges and avoiding eye contact. Conversations buzzed around , laughter rang out, and glasses clinked in toasts to whatever wealthy socialites toast to. I was out of my elent, and it was painfully obvious.
But then, as if fate wasn't quite done tornting , I saw them.
Jason and Kylie.
For a mont, I thought I was imagining things. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on . But no, it was real.
Jason, my ex, stood near the fountain at the center of the field, looking effortlessly handso in a tailored black suit. And next to him, clinging to his arm with a smile that made my stomach twist, was Kylie—my forr best friend.
I hadn't seen either of them in two days, not since that night at his birthday. Seeing them together now, in this setting, brought back mories I had tried so hard to bury. The betrayal, the hurt, the anger—it all ca rushing back in a tidal wave of emotions I wasn't prepared for.
I wanted to turn around and leave, to slip away before either of them noticed . But before I could move, Kylie's gaze landed on . Her smile faltered for just a second before it returned, brighter and more forced than before. She whispered sothing to Jason, and he turned, his eyes locking onto mine.
For a mont, the three of us stood frozen, caught in so unspoken tension that no one else around us could see. The world continued to move—the party continued, laughter and music filling the air—but for , everything had stopped.
I forced myself to breathe, to keep my expression neutral. I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected .
Straightening my back, I walked past them without a word, heading toward the far end of the field where fewer people had gathered.
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"Iraya! Oh my gosh, is that really you?"
I turned slowly, already knowing who it was. Kylie. She was heading toward , her hand clutching Jason's arm, her eyes wide with an artificial mix of surprise and delight.
Look like ignoring them didn't work out.
Everything about her scread polished perfection, from her perfectly styled hair to her dazzling erald-green gown that looked straight off a runway. The way she walked, holding Jason close like a prized possession, made feel a pang of old bitterness rise in my chest.
"Kylie," I said flatly, keeping my expression neutral, and my eyes went to her hand on Jason while the latter wasn't bothered by it.
She didn't seem to notice the lack of warmth in my voice. Instead, she smiled wider and reached out as if to hug , but I took a step back before she could.
"You have to join us!" she said enthusiastically, completely ignoring the tension in the air. "Jason and I were just saying how we missed seeing you around. We thought that you have gone back to your country but look! You're still here."
Jason shifted uncomfortably beside her, his eyes flickering toward before looking away. He said nothing, but his presence alone was enough to make my skin crawl. The last thing I wanted was to spend the evening with these two people who had once ant everything to and then shattered my trust.
"Actually, I—" I began, trying to excuse myself.
"Oh, nonsense!" Kylie interrupted, her voice lilting with an exaggerated sweetness. "Co on, Iraya. Just for a little while. We should celebrate Christmas together!" She grabbed my wrist before I could react, her grip firm but deceptively gentle. "It's better than be alone in here."
I hesitated, every fiber of my being screaming at to walk away. But Kylie's grip tightened ever so slightly, and I knew she wouldn't take no for an answer. Saying no would only cause a scene, and that was the last thing I wanted tonight.
With a resigned sigh, I forced a tight smile onto my lips. "Sure. Why not?"
"Great!" Kylie bead as if she'd won so silent battle. She pulled toward their table near the fountain, where a few other guests—probably their wealthy friends—were seated, deep in conversation.
I tried not to et Jason's gaze, but I could feel the weight of his eyes on , making my heart beat faster, not in a romantic kind of way . . . but in a murderous way.
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