chapter 5

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fuck!

I face-palm myself.....

I deserve it. Kayla Smith??......Smith?!. What kind of name is that? I really need a break. I let out a sigh, my frustration seeping into every breath.

Clutching my papers in one hand and his lukewarm coffee in the other, I hurried out of the café, my heart still pounding from the awkward encounter I wish I could erase from my mind.

And then, I smell him.....

Ugh" I mutter to myself

I close my eyes for a second, trying to steady myself, but it’s no use. His scent is intoxicating, pulling me in with every whiff. Something about it is maddening—clean, sharp, with a hint of something rich. It wraps around me, reminding me of how close I was to him just moments ago.

I mutter under my breath, “Get it together, Hailey,” and wave my hand to hail a taxi, praying the cold air will snap me out of it.

I climb into the cab, my fingers tightening around the stack of papers in my lap. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll forget about this cringeworthy encounter. I have to. I’m already in too deep....

---

my eyes fall on the mail in front of my gate , the soft air slightly moving a page of the magazine at my feet .

who sent this?

My heart dropped, thinking it might be the boss , I quickly bend over , grabbing the magazine, I unlock the gate and let myself in .

my steps hastening, the thought of the boss sending this to me give me an unsettling feeling....

I lock the door behind me , making my way upstairs to my bedroom with a twirl I throw myself onto the bed almost immediately.

"...One... two... three..."

I mutter under my breath, trying to steady myself. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart. My fingers tremble slightly as I reach for the magazine on the bed beside me.

I roll over , flipping it open, I skimmed through the glossy pages.

"Fashion... models... shoes... parties?"

The usual spread of glittering lives I don’t belong to.

But then something catches my eye.

"Medley’s Charity Gala."

The words slip from my lips, barely a whisper, but the red circle around the event grabs my attention. I stare at it for a moment, my mind racing. Why was this circled?

Could it be the boss? Did he put this here?

I sit up, turning the page, but no notes or explanations accompany the glaring red ring around the gala. It has to mean something. A clue? A next step?

Of course.....

I tap the magazine, a sense of unease creeping up my spine. If the boss marked this event, then I’m meant to be there. But why?

Is it connected to Tristan?

I feel a knot form in my stomach. This isn’t just another party .....it’s a calculated move. And I’m part of it, whether I’m ready or not.

I feel sick...

The medleys charity gala doesn't hold till two days , meaning I have two days to create a fake persona and somehow earn an invite.

Yay....

I let out a sigh, the sarcasm in my own thoughts not even making me smile. Two days to become someone else someone Tristan Agress would notice, someone who belongs at a high profile event like this. The clock is already ticking, and the weight of it settles on my shoulders.

I toss the magazine aside, lying back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. This isn't just about putting on a pretty dress and playing nice. It's about creating an illusion, one that needs to be flawless.

Two days.

---

my eyes flung open, when did I sleep? , I must have been more tired than I thought, I struggle to sit up. my head hurts like hell..

my drowsy eyes take a hold of my surroundings, adjusting to the dimly lit room. it's too lonely....maybe I should eat something.

I reach for my phone beside me , the screen illuminating my room dimly.

my keyboard sounds echo through the empty mansion as I try ordering a pizza from the nearest domino's.

my feet touch on the cold marble floor as I make my way downstairs towards the kitchen, opening the fridge, surprisingly it was stacked? ......

my eyes widening in disbelief, usually I was the one who took care of these things, guess the boss was feeling generous today....

I reach out for the orange juice , the cold tingling sensation against my fingers .

my hands stretch for a glass , pouring myself a glass, I take a sip of the sweet nectar, delighting myself with the silence of the mansion

**buzzzzz**

A sharp sound echoed through the mansion, making me nearly drop my glass. I freeze, the cold rim still pressed to my lips as I listen.

Was that the gate?

I frown, lowering the glass. What an odd sound for it to make. My heart picks up, the silence of the house suddenly feeling too loud, too empty.

Maybe it’s just my pizza

I think, trying to shake off the unease creeping up my spine. I glance at the clock.

yeah, right about the time I was expecting the delivery.

Still, something feels off.

I set the glass down on the kitchen counter and head for the front door, my steps cautious. I tug it open, the cold air brushing against my skin as I step outside. No delivery man in sight.

I step outside the gate, scanning the driveway and the empty street beyond the gate.

No delivery man...

No pizza...

Just silence. My frown deepens as I turn to head back inside, but then I notice it.

An envelope, lying neatly at my feet.

I pick it up, the weight of the paper heavier than expected. Plain, white, unmarked. No name, no return address nothing to give away who left it.

My fingers hesitate for a second, but curiosity pushes me to tear it open. Inside, I find a single, elegantly crafted invitation card.

"The Medley’s Charity Gala".

I blink, turning it over in my hands, disbelief tightening in my chest. I was just thinking about this, planning how I’d fake my way into the event. And now, an invitation shows up at my door?

Tucked inside the card is a slip of paper, small and inconspicuous. A number is scrawled across it, handwritten.

I stare at it for a moment, my mind racing with questions. Who sent this? The boss?..... why would he send this?

he wasn't one to give obvious hints like this....

Suddenly, two days feels like nothing. The game’s already begun...