In Love with Mr Wales

Under the mask

Renee’s POV

I woke up sore on my birthday.

Attributes of great s*x, I was grateful to the strange man from last night. He had f****d me with a lot of audacity, something I had missed in a while.

I never drank whenever I was Fire— some of Renee’s meticulous tendencies showed occasionally. Not because I didn’t mind a drink or two, but because it made it easier to find home after every spontaneous activity or stripping session.

I couldn’t risk getting lost in my city and being found drunk and miserable.

That would mean losing my social standing, reputation and even the company.

My life was that intense.

I believed the scrutiny was even greater because I was a woman.

Last night was the same. After having one of the best sexes of my life, only second to my first time — nostalgia bias— I stumbled back home and slept till exactly 5:30 AM.

I woke up at the same time every day and did the same things, following the same routine. I knew that Micheal would send me a bouquet of flowers by 9:00PM and I would complain about the sort of flowers he had bought.

I felt 40 years old even though I was only 24.

I felt different and even as I stared at myself in the mirror as I applied my lotion on my face, I knew something was different about me.

Maybe it was the weight of the responsibility or….

I brushed off the thought even though it rang in my brain.

I stepped out of my robe and slipped into a simple straight skirt and a fitted shirt. It clung to my body but not so much that it made me uncomfortable.

I turned in the mirror and liked the reflection of the person who looked at me.

You’re beginning to look like the woman you have always been. The woman you are meant to be.’ Fire said to me and I smiled, ignoring the bigger message she was trying to pass across.

I shut her out again.

A knock came at the door just then, and, relieved, I growled, ‘Come in.’

Michel Rivera, the butler of 30 years, stood at the entrance of my room, unsure of what to do.

Poor man, he was still scared of me even though he had practically watched me grow. “Miss Powers. The event planners for the masquerade tonight are downstairs, and they say they need to speak to you urgently.”

I groaned.

I could hear the pattering sound of footsteps and the moving of tables from my third-floor room. Preparations for the big masquerade were in tow.

I wasn’t interested, and they couldn’t make me interested.

“As you can see, I’m off to better things,” I responded before applying a dash of hot red lip gloss and clutching my bag closer to me.

“I believe your assistant suggested you stay home for the day?” Rivera asked and I turned to him in anger.

“I am her boss, I give the orders. To you too!” I reminded him, and he grimaced, his face turning red. “If you cannot handle matters concerning silly parties, then I don’t see your usefulness. I am occupied with meetings about my work, so I will not be distracted by birthday plans.”

I put on my shoes and swung my new Chanel bag over my hands before slipping on a pair of dark sunglasses.

“Very well. Happy birthday, Miss Renee. Your parents would be proud of the woman you have become,” Rivera muttered, and before I could say anything more, he walked away.

I stared back at my ice-cold reflection in the mirror. I could taste the unapproachable, even in the colours Ifavoureded and the way I packed my full auburn hair.

Big mouth, his unneeded words are now plaguing my mind.

My parents.

They were a topic I didn’t want to touch on, alongside the brand-new rage that came with this new age.

The clawing anger in my heart nagged at me, begging for attention, and instead, I stood up straight and headed for the door.

The sad thing about having two people in you is that, when one side starts to seek a lot of attention, you can't just walk away from it.

It went with you everywhere.

‘It’s time and you know it. You were born for these two things: Powers INC and revenge. It’s time for you to take on both Renee.’ Fire whispered to me, words only I could hear, and I tried to shut her out again.

It was just Schizophrenia.

I wasn't going mad, but I knew.

It was more than that; it was something more than the ordinary, and I needed to answer her calls.

****

“Renee, remain in this room. How about you just receiving orders just this once?” Lola begged me and I moved about awkwardly in the drawing room, feeling like an overblown balloon in my masquerade dress.

“I want to get on with this party and get it over with,” I snapped, adjusting the mask on my nose.

I knew I looked good. I always did. It was my curse, but I didn’t care about that at that moment. I just wanted this show of the night to end, so I could get on with the whole revenge plot my alter ego had lined up.

Yes, my alter ego was plotting revenge on someone. It sounded psychotic but it was real.

“Wait here, Renee, please. Let me usher you into the room and then you can show your face. Note, Micheal is waiting for you at the foot of the stairs. He will meet you there and lead you into the hall. Don’t forget.” Lola called and walked out of the room, leaving me in my misery.

I stumbled about in the dress and tried not to think about anything. I hated all of these shows. I didn’t care about it and I hated that I had to be displayed and shown around like a piece of property.

I stood on my back to the door when the door burst open, and immediately I turned around. A man walked in through the door, looking flustered and confused.

He walked further into the room, not seeing me.

“What the hell?” I called, and he finally turned around, and I stormed towards him. “Are you a f*****g intruder!” I asked him and his gaze narrowed as he looked back at me, and then it clicked at that moment.

Hell no!

It has been my pleasure since last night!

“Me? No! Hell no, I am…” he began, a babbling mess.

“You from last night! Why the hell are you here? Are you stalking me?” I asked him, annoyed and confused.

“Stalking you? Who….” He trailed off as I saw it click in his eyes, fe. Fear crept up into my stomach, and I almost passed out.

“Why the f**k are you in my drawing room? Who let you in?” I thundered, not showing any of my inner turmoil.

“This is a mix-up. You are not…”

The door opened again and Micheal came into the room, beaming like the golden boy he was. He stopped when he saw the man.

“Renee, have you met him already?” Micheal asked as he came over and gave me a peck on my reddened cheeks.

“Met who?”

“Renee Powers, my father, Damon Wales.”