The Invitation
413 Words
The envelope lay on her vanity like a dare. Heavy cream paper, the seal pressed deep in crimson wax. The emblem of the Draxon family — a serpent coiled around a crown.
Brittany traced a finger over it, lips curving in a dangerous smile.
“They didn’t waste time,” she murmured.
Her best friend, Maris, lounged on the bed, flipping through a silver-edged deck of tarot cards.
“You’re not seriously going, are you? Your father will lock you in the cellar if he finds out.”
“My father doesn’t need to know,” Brittany said, slipping the invitation into her clutch. “Besides, I’d like to meet the neighbors.”
What she didn’t say was that she’d been thinking of those blue eyes ever since they met hers across the street. Cold. Calculating. Impossible to forget.
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The Draxon estate had been transformed. Chandeliers dripped from the vaulted ceilings, casting golden light over marble floors. Music swelled—violins, haunting and sharp. The air smelled of expensive cologne, old money, and the faint, metallic sweetness of blood hidden in crystal glasses.
Brittany entered like she owned the room. Red silk wrapped her body like a flame, her hair a burning crown. She felt every gaze slide her way, but only one mattered.
And he was already watching.
Vimer Draxon stood at the top of the sweeping staircase, glass in hand. Black suit, midnight hair, those ice-blue eyes locking onto her as if no one else existed.
When she reached the bottom step, he moved. Graceful. Silent. A predator in a room full of prey.
“Brittany Valeris,” he said when he reached her, his voice smooth and low. “I wondered how long it would take you to cross my threshold.”
Her lips curved, though her pulse beat harder than she liked.
“Funny,” she replied, “I was wondering how long it would take you to send for me.”
Their eyes held, neither of them blinking, both measuring, both daring the other to look away. Around them, the party continued—laughter, music, the clink of glasses—but it all blurred into nothing.
“Careful, Valeris,” Vimer said softly, leaning just close enough for her to feel the cool brush of his breath. “In this house, every move has a price.”
Brittany tilted her chin, green eyes blazing.
“Good,” she whispered. “I’ve never been afraid to pay.”
- Writer
