Chapter 6
The next forty-eight hours passed in eerie calm.
Bella came back to the dorm that night glowing.
A new bracelet sparkled on her wrist. She dropped onto her bed, hummed to herself, then turned and looked at me.
“Why the long face, Molly?”
I kept reading my notes.
“No reason.”
“Did Damian not explain where he went?”
I said nothing.
She got up, walked over, and leaned against my desk.
“You know, I really didn’t want things to turn out like this. But emotions can’t be controlled. People like whoever they like.”
Jennifer snorted from her bed. “Exactly. You can’t force someone to love you.”
Rachel added, “If a guy can be taken, that just means he was never yours to begin with.”
I slowly closed my notebook.
Then I looked up and met Bella’s eyes.
“You’re right.”
She blinked, clearly not expecting agreement.
I stood.
“If someone can be taken that easily, he was never worth keeping.”
Bella’s smile widened.
“So you’re finally letting go?”
I looked at her for a second longer, then gave a tiny smile of my own.
“Maybe.”
That one word did more to reassure her than anything else I could have said.
Because Bella didn’t just want to steal.
She wanted surrender.
She wanted to look into my eyes and see defeat.
And that night, for the first time, I gave her a version of it.
The next morning, I skipped class.
Publicly.
I stayed in bed with the curtain drawn, let Jennifer loudly “worry” about me, and let Rachel whisper that heartbreak had finally gotten to me.
By noon, Bella had already told half the school that Damian and I were basically over.
By evening, campus gossip accounts were posting blurry photos of Damian dropping Bella off near the arts building.
The comments exploded.
So Bella wins again?
Poor Molly. She really has the worst taste in men.
Bella is honestly unstoppable.
I lay on my bed scrolling through the comments, expressionless.
Then my second phone vibrated.
One message.
The board is set.
I deleted it immediately.
The school’s annual founders’ gala was two nights later.
It was a huge event. Alumni, investors, local media, faculty, student leaders, wealthy parents. Anyone who wanted to be seen would be there.
Bella had been desperate to attend last year and failed.
This year, through Damian, she got an invitation.
Of course she did.
She arrived in a white satin gown with a slit nearly up to her thigh, a diamond necklace at her throat, and the kind of smile women wore when they thought every eye in the room belonged to them.
Damian entered ten minutes later in a black tuxedo, effortlessly elegant, indifferent enough to make the entire room watch him.
He didn’t go to her immediately.
He crossed the hall, spoke to two board members, shook hands with an investor, and only then allowed Bella to approach.
That was another thing Bella never understood.
Men like Lucas could be led around by their appetites.
Men like Damian? They let you think you were approaching them.
Bella slipped her hand onto his arm.
He didn’t remove it.
From across the ballroom, hidden partly behind a marble pillar, I watched.
Jennifer and Rachel were with Bella that night too, invited through student volunteer passes. They stood nearby, practically vibrating with excitement.
“There,” Jennifer whispered loudly to someone. “That’s Bella. She’s the one Damian’s been seeing.”
Rachel laughed. “She’s unbelievable. She really beat Molly in every way.”
I adjusted the black mask in my hand but didn’t put it on yet.
Tonight’s gala had a masquerade segment at the end. A theatrical little tradition the school loved.
The perfect cover.