Chapter Four
947 Words
Andrelle stared at her reflection, then back at the stylist. “This can’t be me.”
Her voice came out small, uncertain — like someone peeking behind a curtain and not recognizing the world on the other side.
Gone were her braids tied in a puff, her plain hoodie, and her low-key energy. In their place: a sleek bun with soft curls framing her face, skin glowing, lips tinted just right. Her body was wrapped in a deep emerald green dress that hugged her hips and left her shoulders bare, with just the right shimmer at the collarbone.
“You’re stunning,” the stylist said matter-of-factly. “Now go knock them dead.”
She wished confidence was something you could dust onto your cheekbones.
The double doors to the ballroom opened, and the hum of a hundred elite voices swelled. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light on velvet and pearls, waiters moved like shadows with trays of champagne, and everywhere she turned, people were watching.
Juma appeared at her side like a shield. Dressed in a tailored black tux, every inch of him was quiet power. He gave her a nod not rushed, not for show — just... steady.
“You ready?” he murmured.
Andrelle forced a smile. “Do I have a choice?”
“You always have a choice,” he said quietly. “But if you’re staying... take my arm.”
She hesitated. Then slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. Their fingers brushed. Warm. Electric.
They moved through the room like a story people wanted to read.
“And who is this lovely creature, Juma?” A woman in red silk asked, her diamonds dancing under the chandelier light.
“This is Andrelle,” he said, pride in his voice. “My fiancée.”
The word settled heavy in her chest.
The woman’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Fiancée, hmm? And what does she do, darling?”
“She drives,” Andrelle said smoothly. “Among other things.”
Red Dress blinked. “Drives?”
“Uber,” Andrelle clarified. “Best way to meet the love of your life, apparently.”
The air grew awkward, but Juma just laughed and kissed the back of her hand. “That’s why I trust her to take me places.”
The crowd moved on. Andrelle exhaled.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“You held your own,” he replied. “Proud of you.”
And she hated how much that small praise meant.
The band struck up a slow rhythm. Couples swayed under chandeliers. Someone whispered, “Time for the first dance.”
Her stomach dropped. “No, no. I can’t dance in heels.”
“You can,” Juma said, tugging her gently toward the center. “You’re not doing this alone.”
He took her hand, the other sliding to her waist like it belonged there. His touch was careful but firm, like he knew exactly how much she needed someone to steady her without making her feel small.
They moved together, slow at first. Then smoother. Andrelle followed his lead, aware of every breath, every beat between them.
“You’re staring,” she whispered.
“I’m memorizing,” he replied.
She looked up. His eyes weren’t playing a part. Not here, not now.
The music dipped into something softer. Around them, the room blurred — just the two of them suspended in the moment, pretending to be in love.
Only... what if it wasn’t all pretend?
His hand tightened slightly on her waist. Her pulse jumped.
“You’re good at this,” she said, voice low.
“Which part?” he asked.
“Lying.”
A beat passed.
“So are you,” he murmured.
Later, on the terrace, she needed air. The inside had grown too warm, too thick with watching eyes and judgment.
She leaned against the railing, city lights flickering below. It was so far from her small studio apartment, her textbooks, her real world.
“You okay?” Juma’s voice was gentle behind her.
She nodded, then changed her mind. “No.”
He came to stand beside her. “Tell me.”
Andrelle turned to him. “You want me to lie, right? Like everything else?”
He didn’t flinch. “No. I want you to tell me what you’re thinking. For real.”
She swallowed. “This is... overwhelming. These people, the attention, pretending to be something I’m not.”
“You’re not pretending to be anything,” he said. “They’re just too blind to see you.”
“See what?” she asked, half-laughing. “A girl who drives Uber and doesn’t belong here?”
Juma’s jaw clenched. “You belong anywhere you want to belong. You’re smart, grounded, you’ve got a spine. Most of them don’t.”
His words pierced her — unexpected and fierce.
“Why are you really doing this?” she asked. “Why me?”
Juma paused. “Because when I got in your car, it was the first moment I felt like I could breathe. Like someone saw me — not the heir, not the business... just me.”
She stared at him.
This was dangerous. Too many truths.
He took a step closer. “And now I can’t stop wanting to be near you. Even if none of it’s real.”
The night stretched between them, and for one dizzy second, she thought he’d kiss her.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he whispered, “Come on. They’ll come looking.”
Andrelle followed him back in — heart pounding, skin buzzing.
Somewhere deep inside, something had shifted.
And she didn’t know how to shift it back.
- Writer
