Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
“Oh, right. I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” Helena blurts out, seeming as if she’s walking on eggshells around her son.
He even calls her mother. That’s super impersonal.
It’s sad that people like me yearn for a mother that doesn’t exist while Kane still has his mom but doesn’t seem to care about her.
I suspect he cares about no one.
“I’ll walk you out.” I fall in step beside her, but Kane disappears down the hallway as if he doesn’t want to spend one more minute in her company.
Once we’re at the door, I awkwardly say, “I’m sorry about Kane. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
“Don’t be.” She smiles softly and pats my hand. “I think you’re a good person, Dahlia. So let me offer you a piece of advice.”
“Yes?”
“Run away while you can. Once you’re in, you’ll never be able to leave.”
17
DAHLIA
Two days later, Kane sent me an invitation to a party.
Not just any party.
A members-only party.
To say I wish I could high-five myself would be an understatement. I knew that patience would eventually get me here.
To Ravenswood Hill.
The Armstrongs are hosting this event in their extravagant mansion.
The security is tight around the gated community, and my invitation had to be scanned by some special infrared machine, and I was thoroughly searched for weapons.
Even though the invitation said to dress formal and wear the Vencor mask, I had to remove it for security reasons and then put it back on.
As for the formal part, I had to wear the dress I found in a box that came with the invitation.
The dress is pure sin, a deep, dark red that clings to every curve like blood-soaked silk. A slit slices up my leg, stopping just above my left knee, teasing with every step I take. The luxurious fabric hugs my waist, the neckline plunging just enough to toe the line between elegance and danger.
It fits me well. Too well, actually.
The fact that Kane knows my size is unnerving.
I tucked away the invitation card, but I couldn’t hide the dress from Megan. She freaked out for half an hour about how stunning I looked and how gorgeous the dress was.
Oh, and there were black designer heels, which I’m struggling to walk in.
According to Megan, the dress and heels cost at least twenty grand. All I could think about was how that amount of money could help with my sister’s medical care.
Though I’m uncomfortable with the gift and plan to return it as soon as the party is over, I couldn’t come to my first Vencor party with an inappropriate outfit.
I’m also thankful for the mask. At least this way, anonymity protects me, in a sense.
My steps falter as I enter the main hall.
I’ve always heard stories about people living in a detached, different world, but I haven’t fully understood the meaning until now.
The Armstrong mansion is a palace wrapped in shadows, opulence dripping from every corner. The massive crystal chandeliers cast fractured light across the black marble floors, the shimmer of gold and silver reflecting off the walls like a thousand stars trapped indoors.
Everything gleams—from the polished wood, extravagant sculptures, and the ancient art that shouldn’t belong to this world.
I’m completely and utterly dazzled by a type of money I’ve never witnessed in my life. Not even in movies.
Suddenly, trepidation pulses through my every nerve, and I feel like a mouse trapped in cat land.
The ballroom is massive, too large for comfort, with towering windows draped in rich velvet. The curtains fall heavy and dark, almost swallowing the light. Tables are scattered with fine crystal and gleaming silverware, the flicker of candlelight casting shadows that dance across the masked faces.
It’s all too sparkling, too extravagant, as if the wealth and power could drown me if I stayed or stared for too long.
Everything about this place feels dangerous. Beautiful. Like a trap that glitters just enough to make you forget there’s no way out.
The air is thick with the scent of expensive cologne, champagne, and something darker. It clings to my skin, mixing with the low hum of whispered conversations and faint laughter that echoes off the walls.
The members move like ghosts in the flickering light, their silver and black masks hiding their faces, but not the depravity in their eyes. Every movement feels calculated, every glance loaded with silent power.
This is on a completely different level than the Drayton party. That one feels like entry-level compared to this.
Which makes me abandon any ideas about collecting DNA samples or even snooping around. I glimpse numerous cameras blinking in every corner, and the feeling of being trapped and constantly watched coils in my stomach like a disease.
It’s better to be careful this time, keep a low profile, and observe. Since it’s my first invitation, it could be a test.
I grab a flute of champagne from a waiter and nestle in a corner. Even the staff is wearing silver half masks, and they’re groomed to perfection.