THE MASKED HEIRESS

WHO IS HE?

I stare at the paper, my pulse still racing.

His smile, the way he said it like it was something he owned.

I can feel my fingers trembling as I reach for it. Slowly, I lift it, like it might explode if I touch it wrong. My breath hitches as I unfold it again. The paper’s thin, fragile. As if it carries something more than just ink.

I read the words a second time, still not understanding what I’m looking at:

"I know who you are, Emmelyn."

I swallow hard, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. My hands feel cold, numb, like I’m holding someone else’s life in my lap.

How does he know?

I’m nobody. No one is special. I keep to myself, buried in my drawings, my quiet world. I haven’t been seen, not really, for a long time. But he’s seen me. And I’m starting to wonder if he knows more than just my name.

I glance around the cafeteria, trying to act normal. The whispers are still there, but now they feel heavier, like everyone’s waiting for something to happen. They’re all watching me, but I don’t think they’re looking at me the way he does.

I shove the paper into my bag, my heart still hammering. I’m not sure if I’m scared or angry, but the feeling of being exposed doesn’t sit well with me.

I turn my head, but there’s no sign of Jaxon. No smirk, no lingering presence. It’s like he’s vanished into thin air.

I wish I could shake off the chill crawling up my spine, but I can’t. I have to get out of here.

I stand, my legs shaky, and make my way to the exit. The last thing I want is to be seen by anyone right now, especially not by him.

As I push through the door and out into the cool air, I don’t realize how hard I’m breathing until the fresh air hits my lungs. My mind races, thoughts chasing each other, too fast to catch.

Who is he?

I don’t know if I’m more confused about him or about what I’m starting to feel.

I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending like nothing happened.

But no matter how fast I walk, I can’t seem to outrun the memory of his eyes on me, of that damn smile that felt like a challenge.

I need to think. I need to figure out what the hell just happened.

I pull out my phone, hoping for some distraction. Maybe if I just shut down for a minute and focus on something else this will all go away.

But of course, it’s not that easy.

A New Message popped in

I blink at the notification. My fingers hover over the screen before I even realize I’m holding my breath.

The message is from an unknown number.

“I see you're walking away. But you can’t hide forever, Emmelyn. It’s only a matter of time before you need me."

I freeze.

The words are too similar to what he said in the cafeteria, but this? This feels too personal.

My stomach drops, and I glance around the empty hallway like there’s someone watching me.

I want to scream. I want to throw my phone away, forget this ever happened.

But I can’t. Not now.

I hit reply, fingers trembling.

Who is this?

I watch the screen, waiting for the dots to appear, expecting some snarky reply. But instead, it just sits there, mocking me with its silence.

Then the message comes through:

"Relax girl, I'm just joking around. Why are you so tensed about your father rich money”

I just ignored the text and shoved the phone back into my pocket. It's not like I'm hiding my identity, I just don't want people to know me.

After mom's death, the only way I've been protecting myself is acting like I was invisible.

The rest of the day goes by in a haze. I keep my head down, try to blend into the background, but I can’t stop thinking about the morning. Jaxon. The way he seemed to read me without even trying. How did he know?

By the time the final bell rings, signaling the end of the day, I’m so ready to leave. I grab my stuff quickly and practically run out of the building, hoping to escape the swarm of people. I don’t want to deal with anyone, especially not today. The last thing I need is more chatter, more noise.

The ride home is quiet, and I’m grateful for it. I drive down familiar streets, not really paying attention to anything around me. The sun’s starting to dip low, casting everything in a golden light, but it doesn’t feel as peaceful as it usually does.

The house feels even quieter than usual when I get home. My brothers are away at college, so it’s just me and the nanny. It’s always been this way, but today it hits differently. The silence wraps around me, feels heavier. I’m alone, and I’m not sure what to do with myself.

I drop my bag and head straight for the kitchen, hoping a snack will distract me. The nanny’s in the back, doing her usual thing, and I’m left to my own thoughts. I open the fridge, grab an apple, and sit down at the counter. The crunch of the fruit is comforting, but it doesn’t stop my brain from circling back to Jaxon.

How did he know so quickly? The text he sent earlier still hangs in my mind.

My heart skips a beat every time I think of it.

But I push it away. I’m not going to let him control my thoughts. I don’t need that. I don’t need him.

I finish the apple and toss the core in the trash, my mind still racing. I grab my sketchbook, thinking that maybe if I start drawing, I can get my mind off of everything else. But it doesn’t help. I flip through the pages, but none of my ideas feel right. I can’t concentrate.

Finally, I give up. I leave the sketchbook on the counter and walk upstairs to my room. I throw myself onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. I try to clear my head, but it’s impossible. His smirk, his eyes, the way he looked at me, none of it is leaving.

And then my phone buzzes.

I sit up, half-expecting it to be a notification from some random app, but no. It’s him.

“I’ll be seeing you soon.”

My pulse spikes. I throw my phone on the bed beside me, but the words won’t leave. I try to close my eyes, but sleep feels far away, and tomorrow feels even further.

I turn over and pull the blankets tighter around me. I just need to forget about him for a little while. Maybe then I’ll be able to get through the next day without him messing with my head.

But another text came in again.

“There's a party at Gia’s house. Why don't you come and I will tell you everything about how I discovered this hidden truth. Trust me, you will be happy to know”

I sat up, staring at the screen for a long moment. A party? At Gia’s house? I didn’t even know she threw parties, let alone the kind of party Jaxon would be at. My first instinct is to just ignore it, to pretend the message never came through. I don’t do parties. I don’t do crowds. I certainly don’t do Jaxon either.

But then I see it again. Hidden truth.

What is the truth? What’s he talking about?

I hate how intrigued I am, how curious I am to know what he’s going on about.

I even made sure everything related to me was off social media. My brothers don't post anything related to me, my Dad stopped the guards from following me to school

Another text comes through almost immediately.

“I promise, you’ll want to know. Don’t make me convince you. I’m not the type to chase after anyone, but this is worth chasing.”

My heart skips a beat. I know what he’s doing and he’s not begging, but there’s something about his words that makes it hard to ignore. It’s like he knows I’m too curious to resist, that he’s got me right where he wants me.

I grab my phone and type out a quick reply before I can talk myself out of it.

“What’s this all about? What are you talking about?”

I don’t expect him to reply right away, but he does. A few seconds later, the phone buzzes again.

“It’s not something I can explain over text. But if you come to Gia’s party, you’ll understand. I’ll be waiting for you. I will text you the address”

I freeze. Waiting for me? The words hang in the air, and for some reason, they hit me harder than I expect. My chest tightens, and my mind goes into overdrive.

I don’t do this. I don’t chase answers through parties and random texts. But the thing is, he’s right. I need to know. What is it that he’s discovered? What’s he hiding? What does he know?

I get up, pacing around my room. I try to talk myself out of it. It’s a party. It’s Jaxon. I can’t just throw myself into that.

But I can’t ignore the feeling building up inside me. I grab my keys, slipping on a black dress and a jacket, not too fancy but enough to make me feel like I’m stepping into something unfamiliar, something different.

I don’t know what I’m walking into. I don’t know what to expect. But I know that if I don’t go, I’ll never find out. And right now, I’m too curious to back out.