Not interested in Non ex

MASQUERADE

Elena’s pov.

“What do you mean by you want a replacement?” I asked.

She scoffed. “Oh please. We both know you need the money. Do you really want to act like you have a choice?”

I swallowed hard because she was right. I didn't really have a choice. But she didn't give me time to think about it either.

“You have three days dear sister. This offer is only good for three days. You mustn't forget that it's urgent.”

I held the phone to my chest for a minute or two. Three days was all Victoria had given me to choose to be someone I was not.

I walked into the luxury hotel suite three days later and stood still while Victoria transformed me into her own image.

She threw me into a dress that clung to my body like a second skin. A black silk dress with tiny crystals sewn into the bodice that caught the light every time I breathed and definitely cost more than two months of rent.

Victoria stood behind me, in front of the full length mirror. Her arms crossed, and her reflection was as sharp as a blade. I barely looked like her. Our hair was both dark, and our jawline was equally sharp, but that was where the resemblance ended. She was polished and I was cracked.

“You’re slouching,” she said in a clipped voice. She stepped forward and pressed her two fingers between my shoulder blades. “Victoria Hart does not slouch, she commands. Fix it.”

I straightened and tightened my jaw. “This is insane. I’m not an actress. I’m a waitress and a student who can barely keep her phone on. Find someone else.”

Victoria replied me with a soft and humorless laught as she circled me like a shark, adjusting the strap on my shoulder with clinical precision. “There is no one else, Elena. You think I enjoy dredging up my half-sister from whatever hole our father stuck you in? No. But you look close enough in the right lighting, and more importantly, you’re desperate just like I need you to be.”

I turned to face her, the dress whispering against my thighs. “Desperate enough to lie to an entire room of rich people and pretend I’m you? Martha would kill me if she knew I was anywhere near the Harts.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You're just the daughter of the maid my father screwed so get a grip of yourself. If you're still having second thoughts maybe you should remember that Martha’s first specialist appointment is scheduled for tomorrow morning. The consultation alone is twelve thousand dollars and I’ve already paid it this morning. I can reverse it if you want, all I need to do is to make one phone call and they’ll get her off the pre-op list, kick her off that nice little bed she’s in right now, and by this time tomorrow she’ll be back in that overcrowded county ward waiting for a miracle that won’t come.”

My stomach twisted as I remembered Martha’s face from last night and the hope in her eyes when I told her that I had found a way to pay for her surgery.

“You’re blackmailing me with her life,” I whispered.

“No. I’m giving you a lifeline,” Victoria corrected, checking her watch. “Play the part for one night. Smile, nod, be charming but mysterious and don't worry about your ugly face that would never be as good as mine. The masquerade masks will fix that. Make one mistake and the deal is off. Understood?”

I stared at her, my fists clenched at my sides because the dress felt heavier now, like I was in chains. But Martha’s cold hand in mine reminded me of why I had to do this. Sixty-eight thousand was all I need and She’ll be far away from that hospital.

“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “One night.”

Victoria gave a thin and satisfied smile before gathering her coat and leaving without saying another word.

Back alone, I turned back to the mirror and the woman staring back at me wasn’t me. I was wearing an expensive fabric, putting on a perfect makeup, in hair swept into an elegant twist.

The real Victoria looked like someone whose biggest problem was choosing which yacht to take out next weekend while I looked like the version of her I was supposed to be.

***

At ten PM, I walked into a ballroom full of masks and money where crystal chandeliers dripped light over hundreds of guests in gowns and tuxedos that probably cost more than my entire education.

The place was filled with loud laughters, conversations about stock portfolios, private jets, and donations that were more than enough to wipe out my debts in a single signature.

Thankfully, the delicate black lace mask with silver threads itched against my skin, while hiding the fear in my eyes and Dana stayed three steps behind me in a simple black dress and a hidden earpiece. She steered me with small gestures and surprisingly I was good at this. Probably too good.

Years from watching people had taught me how to act perfectly and for two hours, it all worked.

Until I felt it.

Across the room, there was an older man near the champagne tower in a tailored gray suit watching me.

He wasn't wearing a mask, or maybe he was wearing one too subtle that it blended with his silver hair. His eyes weren’t hungry like some of the others, they were calculating, and narrowing like he knew something about me that I didn't.

A chill crept down my spine, before I turned away, my heart hammering. But when I glanced back minutes later, he was still there watching me. And for the next one hour, I felt his gaze burning into my skin.

Dana pulled me into another circle of donors before I could decide whether to confront him and by the time I looked back, he was gone like smoke.

I shook off the uneasy feeling. All I had to do was survive just one night so I could go back to being invisible.

Dana’s voice crackled in my earpiece suddenly. “Stay here. There is a donor crisis on the west side. I’ll only be gone for ten minutes.”

I nodded, and pressed against the wall as instructed but after four minutes, a crowd of photographers surged through like a tide and pushed me backward til I hit the elevator, pressing open the door. I quickly stepped inside in panic and hit the wrong button while trying to escape.

The lift led me straight to the private upper floor. It was silent with a thick red carpet and the air smelled of polished wood and an expensive cologne, which was more quiet than the chaos below.

I should have gone back down or called Dana. But instead I walked through the corridor, my heart still racing from the crowd.

A door opened at the end of the hall and Ryder Knight stepped out.

He wasn’t dressed for the ballroom. He was putting on a white dress shirt and his collar was open at the throat, his sleeves rolled to reveal his arms.

He looked like he was just coming out from a private meeting, his hair was slightly tousled like he had run his hands through it, making me swallow.

I knew him as the hockey captain and bolden boy. Someone I had only seen on campus posters and tried to ignore but up close, he was taller than I expected and broader, with eyes that pinned me in place.

We stared at each other till the hallway suddenly felt smaller.

“He… hey.” I stammered, completely loosing my voice.

“Hi babe.” He tilted his head with a smug smile, studying me. “You sound different today, Victoria.”

In that moment, every thing I had practiced for this night vanished and all I could hear was my pulse thundering in my ears which signified the beginning of a nonsense feeling even before his hands even moved toward me.

The dread in my chest was replaced with something warmer, and more dangerous, and when I opened my mouth, nothing came out.

For the first time in years, I was lost for words.