But without a word, he nods and carries on.
I hold my breath until he’s gone, moving on to the next guest, handing out the food on his tray until it’s completely empty.
I can’t believe he didn’t know it was me. I’ve worked with him pretty much every day since I started. We haven’t spoken much since then, only in passing. But still, I’m in disbelief that this mask and a few colored extensions have changed me so much. Although ninety-nine percent of it is likely my demeanor.
Taking a few deep breaths, I relax my shoulders and step fully into the room, letting the light wash over me.
I move across the floor with purpose and drive, even though, secretly, I have no idea where I’m going.
The room is crowded. Couples are dancing, and others are mingling and laughing at each other’s terrible jokes. Every conversation I pass seems to be focused on money or status, and it’s all so exhausting.
Minutes later, as I desperately search for a topic with more meaning, my hope dwindles.
I’ve never felt more joy that I stand out in a room like this. At least I’m not as self-centered and vain as most of them.
Heading down a hallway toward one of the dining rooms—if you can even call a space this large a dining room—I find Adrianna and Everett dancing, holding each other lovingly as they sway back and forth.
No massive audience. No cameras. A moment shared with only a few onlooking guests.
My jaw clenches, and a metallic burst hits my tongue.
I have no protective feelings for her or Everett, but I’m angry at the fact that I’m forced to be stuck in their mess. I’m a pawn who doesn’t want to play, who doesn’t even want to be on the board. Yet here I am, being tossed back and forth like a ragdoll however the queen sees fit.
But not tonight. Tonight, I am Cirella Chamberlain, even if only to myself.
A waiter passes with a tray full of champagne glasses, and I stop him politely with a wave of my fingers.
“A glass, miss?” He lowers the tray for me to easily reach.
Tucking my phone between my arm and waist, I nod.
“Please.” I take one, and before I can even think it through, I reach for a second, smiling. “Thank you.”
Adrianna laughs at something Everett said, and it’s almost impressive how good of an actress she is.
I’m sure everyone in this room is as fooled as Everett … as my dad was.
This is her stage, and she’s acting for her prize—to become one of them, to belong as she’s always craved.
She rests her forehead against his, smiling softly, and for a second, even I wonder if it’s real.
But then I remember who she is—the monster who comes out in a private room, the one who shouts at me and hits me when no one is looking. That woman isn’t capable of love.
Carefully holding both glasses in one hand, I slip my phone into the tight waist line of my dress, allowing me to freely carry both glasses. Not that I need to for long.
I finish one of the glasses in a few gulps, loathing the taste as it runs down my throat. I’ve never been fond of the taste of alcohol the few times I’ve had it.
A twinkle catches my eye, and I look right, through the crowd and out of the windows on the far wall that overlooks the west garden. Lights are strewn through the hedges, and I know the place is decorated to perfection.
The idea pops into my mind, and my feet are already carrying it out.
Fresh air sounds like the most enjoyable thing in the world right now. Anywhere but with these people.
I think I’ll enjoy the view up close. Maybe it’ll help sort out my racing thoughts.
Sipping on my second glass, I make my way down the hall, through the foyer, and out of the guest entrance for tonight, fishing my phone out of my dress.
I follow the path outlined in glowing lights, letting it guide me deeper into the gardens lined by tall hedges. I believe this leads toward the fountain.
