REVENGE KISS: FALLING FOR MY BAD BOY STEP BROTHER

Chapter 012: The Gala

~SAFFRON~

Heavens, I look really good. Standing in front of the mirror in my room, I can hardly recognize myself in this ocean-blue silky gown my mom picked for me. The material feels smooth and cool as it hugs my curves in the best possible way—like a watercolor painting come to life, the fabric rippling with shades that shift under the light. The halter neckline reveals a hint of cleavage I didn’t know I had the confidence for, while the fitted bodice skims my waist before flaring gently at the hips into a soft, flowing skirt that swishes with every step. But the back… oh, the back is what steals my breath. It’s low and open, with criss-cross straps that tie together like a secret. A makeup artist did my makeup, and for my hair, a hairstylist helped style it into loose, beachy waves that tumble over my shoulders. It’s pinned subtly at the nape to keep it from falling flat. Silver jewelry, purse, and heels complete the look.

My mom and Fred are already downstairs waiting. I take a deep breath at the top of the stairs, smoothing the silky fabric of my gown one last time before descending. The grand foyer comes into view. The chauffeur stands in a corner while my mom is standing close to Fred, her arm looped through his, both of them dressed to impress. She looks radiant in a deep emerald dress that hugs her figure, the neckline modest but elegant, her hair pinned up in soft curls that frame her face like she’s stepped out of a magazine. Fred’s beside her in a classic black tuxedo, a bowtie adding a touch of sophistication—he’s every bit the confident businessman, smiling warmly as he adjusts his cufflinks.

But then Jason appears, approaching them as he ends a phone call. My step falters. He’s in a tux too—tailored black, the jacket fitting his broad shoulders perfectly, the white shirt underneath unbuttoned at the collar, a bowtie in his hand. His dark hair is styled impeccably. He looks… devastating.

He stops short when his eyes lift to me on the stairs. Those eyes widen a little, then darken with something raw as he takes me in. Shyness and nerves flood me, my heart pounding louder than my heels on the steps, and for a second, it’s just us, the denial from the kitchen crumbling under his stare. Mom and Fred smile so radiantly at me, but Jason… he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just watches me descend like I’m the only thing in the room worth looking at.

“You look so beautiful, Saffron,” Fred says the second I approach them.

“I can’t believe my baby has grown into this gorgeous damsel,” my mom jumps in before I can respond to Fred’s compliment, holding my hand as she smiles proudly at me.

“Thank—”

“I’ll be on my way, Dad,” Jason’s voice cuts me off sternly. I look at him, telling myself it’s nothing to get upset about.

“Okay,” Fred says. “Saffron could join you for a ride.”

“I would prefer riding alone,” Jason says, his eyes darting between our parents. He's suddenly avoiding looking at me like I’m a plague.

Nothing to be upset about. I remind myself again.

“Then you better get going,” Fred says curtly, kissing my mom on her temple, and then they share a brief kiss on the lips. I’m still getting used to the fact that she’s now married again, to Fred, but it kinda feels weird seeing her that way with him as I keep getting flash memories of her and my late dad. I’m not quick enough to catch Jason’s reaction as he’s already walking away. But his strides and brief pause before disappearing from my sight, and him wanting to drive alone tell me he’s not happy.

The chauffeur drives us away from the mansion a few minutes after Jason leaves.

“Oh, I didn’t mention—the gala’s at your new college, Sterling Heights,” my mom says casually in the car, squeezing my hand. “You’ll get a little preview before classes start. Isn’t that exciting?”

My heart skips. “Really?” She nods. “I thought it was some hotel or something.” A preview of my new school, but with Jason’s storm cloud up front. The thought sends a flutter through me, mixed with anticipation.

As we pull onto the main drive, the campus just opens up in front of us—like something out of a postcard, huge green lawns scattered with old oak trees, and beautiful buildings lit up all warm and golden. There are luxurious cars in front of us and behind us. The place feels way bigger than I pictured, with laughs echoing from somewhere. I’m glued to the window, totally awestruck. This is it, the place where I’ll finally get to paint, meet some cool people, be the IT girl. But then my stomach clenches: this is Jason’s territory too.

We step out of the car to outside this massive ballroom, all lit up like some fancy jewel box. Everyone's dressed to kill—women in these elegant gowns with killer jewelry, guys in crisp tuxes, and even some young people like me. Maybe donors’ children or student athletes? To my right, I notice an interviewer interviewing a couple. The valet snags the car keys from the chauffeur. And my mom, knowing I’m a total wreck with nerves, grabs my hand tight. My palms sweat as we step onto the plush carpet, the flashes already popping in the distance. That’s when I spot Jason out on the red carpet, beautiful big banners behind him saying ‘Sterling Heights Athletics Fundraiser: Building Champions’

He’s just owning it, posing like this is his everyday thing, photographers swarming him like he’s some huge celeb, yelling out “Jason, over here!” for that perfect shot. He doesn’t crack a smile, though—keeps it all cool and composed. His whole look on the carpet contrasts his usual rugged, brooding vibe, although those neck tattoos being visible give a subtle hint. I can’t help staring at him—this messed-up mix of loathing and wild attraction hitting me hard. God, he looks so elegant and handsome out there. Especially now that he is rocking his bowtie.

Fred’s got my mom’s hand in his as we make our way toward the red carpet. Jason catches sight of us, but he snaps his head right back to the cameras blasting away at him.

“Mr. Winchester, can we get a photo of your beautiful family?” one of the photographers calls out, all wide-eyed and starstruck.

Cameras begin flashing at us.

A lady in a sleek black gown waves us over, directing us onto the carpet. We step up, Fred and my mom huddled close, all cozy and picture-perfect, while I’m shoved right next to Jason, my shoulder brushing his arm, sending this quick electric jolt through me, my heart pounding like crazy. This is my first time getting snapped by a swarm of photographers like some celeb, flashes popping everywhere, and being this damn close to him after that night is insane. Then it gets crazier—I feel his fingers brushing mine subtly. My skin tingles, my breath coming out shaky, knees almost giving out from the contact. It terrifies and thrills me all at once. I look at him, and he’s all focused on the cameras like he’s doing nothing. He shoves that same hand in his pocket a second later, but f**k, it’s too late. My cheeks are burning as I try to play cool for the cameras.

“Here come the Millers!” another photographer shouts, cameras turning.

I turn too. My jaw drops.

It’s Elixir. Tall, scarred, curls falling perfectly, dressed in a sharp black tux that makes him look even more appealing. Beside him is the gorgeous auburn-haired girl from the rink and house party. His twin?! Her gown is a stunning red that matches her hair, linked arm-in-arm with him. Behind them is an older couple who seems to be their parents—elegant, smiling, waving at the cameras like they own the night.

The Millers.

My stomach twists.