Familiar Strangers

Party

Marissa's POV

After he ignored my “stop the car,” we finished the ride in silence. No music, no small talk—just vibes and tension.

When we finally pulled up to the venue, it was exactly what I expected: heirs and heiresses everywhere, acting like the world is their runway.

Antonio and I walked in side by side. Immediately, heads snapped toward us. And honestly? Antonio isn’t even trying to pull attention, but the guy is a walking magnet. I spot girls subtly fixing their makeup, adjusting dresses, flipping hair… I mean, I get it. He’s a catch—just not my catch.

We move deeper into the crowd and the whispers start. Then a girl approaches us, dressed in a white, fairy-core dress with a tiara. Cute. Sparkly. Dramatic.

Definitely the celebrant—Betty Walter.

She stops in front of Antonio, beams up at him with a shy smile, and completely ignores me. I don't even mind—I’m busy watching her. The blush, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the whole “I’m pretending not to be obsessed but failing” vibe.

Girl is gone for him. No doubt.

Then she finally turns to me. Smile still on, but her eyes? Whew. Sharp enough to slice bread.

Trouble. I can smell it.

“And who is this?” she asks, sugary sweet with venom underneath.

I give her my brightest polite smile.

“Hello. Happy birthday. I’m Antonio’s… secretary.”

She snaps her gaze to Antonio. “She’s your secretary?”

Antonio looks at me like Really? One eyebrow up.

I keep my smile. “Yes. I am.”

Before she can interrogate me further, Antonio cuts in, “Where’s your father?”

“Oh come, I’ll take you,” the birthday girl practically sings, turning to lead the way.

But as Antonio walks past me, he leans in just enough to whisper,

“Keep to yourself. Avoid trouble.”

And then he follows her, though she makes sure to throw one last glare at me.

I feel that glare but honestly? I’m glaring right at Antonio too.

Keep to myself? Avoid trouble? Who does he think he’s talking to?

As they leave and I’m left alone, I glance around. People are stealing glances at me, but I couldn’t care less. I head to the bar, order an apple-flavored drink, and settle in, minding my own business.

Of course, that’s when someone slides in next to me.

“Hello,” he says.

I look up and give a simple nod. “Hello.” Hoping that’s it. But oh no, it’s not.

He grins. “I’m George Steven.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m Maria,” I reply, intentionally withholding my real name.

“I saw you come in with Antonio Johnson,” he continues.

“Well, I bet everyone did.” I glance around, searching for a corner to escape to. Every spot’s taken. This one was perfect—until him. I sigh and sip my drink.

“So… you’re not from around here? I would have noticed you otherwise. And being with the mighty Antonio Johnson… you’re not exactly ordinary either.”

“If you say so,” I say with disinterest.

“Then what’s your relationship with him? Everyone here is curious. Not only did Antonio show up to a party, he brought a very beautiful girl as his date.”

I smirk. “Curiosity about things that don’t concern you is always amusing. If you ask me, I wonder why that girl over there is wearing that rather ugly dress but you don’t see me going over to ask, do you?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re funny but it is an ugly dress I must confess. ”

I’m still scanning the room when my eyes land on a familiar face. We lock eyes. I frown; he smiles cheekily and starts walking toward me. It’s Jackson.

George keeps talking, oblivious, but my mind drifts until I snap back and hear him say, “Would it be okay if we’re friends?”

I glance up—and Jackson stops right in front of us.

“Hello, I’m Kenny,” he says, stretching out his hand with that infuriating cheeky grin.

I take his hand, gripping it tight, eyes locked on his, daggers practically shooting out. How did he even get here? I just told him the plan for tonight,who knew this brat would show up?

Our hands are still locked, our eyes locked in a silent standoff, I finally say, coolly, “Hello. And how can I help you?”

“Oh no, I was wondering who the beauty was,” he says with a smile, then gives George a curt nod. I release his hand.

“Hope I’ll be seeing you around,” he winks and darts off.

I turn back to the bar, order a shot of alcohol, and gulp it down in one go.

George, still hovering beside me, raises an eyebrow. “You two know each other?”

I shrug, playing ignorant. “Who? Kenny and I?”

He nods.

“No, we don’t. I’m meeting him for the first time,” I lie smoothly.

He eyes me like he doesn’t believe a word. Didn’t look convinced at all.

“Do you know him?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“Nobody here knows him,” George says, leaning closer. “We’re all wondering how he even got in. But isn’t it… suspicious?”

“Suspicious how?”

“That tonight, you appear… and so does a strange CEO.”

“CEO?!” I blurt, nearly spitting out my drink.

“Yeah,” George nods. “Came in a crazy-expensive sports car, too. And very good-looking. Betty decided to let him stay.”

That foolish brat—I scream inwardly, downing another large gulp of alcohol.