WHO SAID CINDERELLA HAD TO BE NICE?

THE BALL

ELLA'S POV

I stepped out of a shiny blue Benz in a beautifully designed silk corset dress—one I had meticulously worked on for over a month.

The dress was a masterpiece, a show of my dedicated and sleepless nights. It hugged every inch of my body like a glove, exposing just enough.

On my face rested a perfectly crafted blue feathered mask.

I was still giving myself a mental thumbs up when I noticed the spectacle before me.

My mouth immediately fell open.

The sight was breathtaking.

The alpha's mansion was indeed mesmerizing.

It was a gigantic castle with shining white tiles which shone in the moonlight.

The floors were black, flickering with a heavenly light.

I walked into the fabulous ballroom, beautiful adorned with the finest of curtains.

At the center rested an extravagant glass chandelier.

The moment my feet touched the floor, I was immediately confronted by the soft scent of lemon and lavender.

A soft song played in the background, casting a romantic atmosphere across the room.

The room was filled with the high and mighty.

Nobles beautifully dressed in the most alluring of attires.

I began making my way through the hall when I noticed all eyes were fixated on me with unblinking gazes.

‘What's happening? Do they suspect something?' I wondered to myself, my legs trembling underneath me.

Swiftly, I dashed towards the dining table trying to avoid the icy glares of onlookers.

There, I grabbed a glass of wine, gulping two glasses down for courage.

The wine was a brutal tale, strong and intoxicating. One sip and I could feel my resolve burning down like melted wax.

I leaned back against the table letting the liquor do its job, taking away the aforementioned discomfort I felt before.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a pair of charming green eyes gleaming at a distance.

That gaze was unmistakable– that face... A mask of perfection... It was Alpha Nickson, the second alpha cub, and heir apparent to the throne.

He had been my crush since I comprehended the meaning of the word “Crush."

A pretty boy, born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

As always he was dressed a fabulous tuxedo, seated strategically at a corner, a glass of whiskey resting in his grasp.

He had a bored expression engraved on his sharp face as he ran his long slender fingers over the glass edge.

His eyes were sunken, hinting he might fall asleep from boredom at any moment.

‘So much for selecting a bride,' I sneered, but just then his eyes jolted open– falling on me with unblinking gaze.

My heart skipped a beat.

Quickly I turned away, avoiding eye contact.

My heart threatening to leap out of my chest.

I thought I had gotten over my crush on him, but the drum in my chest screamed the opposite.

Swiftly, I gulped down another glass of wine.

The amber liquor tearing open my fear.

Grabbing another glass, I let out a deep breathe. Straightened up, and turned to approach my target .

But two steps in I found myself colliding with a broad chest, the kind that can only be spotted in a dark fantasy novel.

I stumbled backwards, letting the amber liquor soak the man's perfectly tailored tuxedo.

“Oh my gosh!" I gasped. “I am so sorry."

My hands trembled as I placed the wine glass back on the table, grabbed a tissue and began wiping away.

“I am so sorry I wasn't looking," I apologized once more.

All the while my heart threatened to leap out of my chest.

I wiped fanatically but my shaky hands, made things worse.

“Enough!" A cold low voice cut through the air, as a pair of strong, elegant fingers grabbed my wrist. “You're making it worse."

His hand was long, cold and veiny.

It felt like an ice bath to my spine, which immediately drew me to my senses.

I swallowed hard.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze past his broad shoulders, enclosed in a priestly white shirt, now stained crimson red from the spillage.

Then came his neck, slender and long. I could see his Adam's apple bub.

Finally came a sharp jawline, characterized by stubbles.

“I'm really sorry..."

I opened my mouth, ready to apologize once more but once I gazed upon his perfectly sculptured face my breath hitched.

The gentleman before me was a perfect specimen. He had full pink lips, short midnight black hair, his skin– sun kissed. His nose was pointed, his brows– full and black, on the left side rested a small scar which flew an air of danger in the mix.

And his eyes – his eyes – otherworldly.

They glowed like golden leaves in autumn.

His eyes pinned onto mine, completely captivating my senses.

We stood there for some time, all sounds fading away leaving behind only our racing heartbeats.

As though my heart wasn't racing enough, now it was frantic.

The stranger's eyes widened as though he just saw a ghost. He opened his mouth to speak, but before his words fell, the agitated voice of a woman ran towards us.

“Oh my goodness! My lord, I apologize for this lady's clumsiness."

It was none other than my stepmother, Vivian.

She approached us with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

“If you would allow it, I take on the trouble of fixing this mess for you," She added stretching her hand towards me.

I panicked, scared of her recognizing me, and without thinking I did something that I would soon come to regret.

Swiftly, I leaned into the beautiful stranger before me, and casually whispered the words, “Tell her I am your woman and drag me to the restroom," I commanded, but came to an abrupt halt when his intimidating gaze met with mine.

He wasn't pleased. Infact, he was pissed.

Serves me right for not being able to control my rampant tongue.

“Sorry, I didn't mean..." I mouthed, but no words fell.

But just then a strong grip tightened against my wrist. It was Vivian, she yanked me out of the stranger's grip.

“Well, princess. I guess it's time to go home," She whispered knowingly.

Could it be she knew exactly who I was all this while?

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