Chapter 22: Playing Games
488 Words
Allie froze, staring at the photo Cher held. It was an old snapshot of her and Nick.
In it, a younger Allie stood next to Nick, his arm slung casually around her shoulder, both smiling wide and carefree.
"Give it to me," Allie said sharply, her voice tight with anger.
Cher smirked, twirling the photo between her fingers. "Relax, it’s just a picture. Or does it bother you that much?"
"You know why," Allie snapped.
"Oh, I know." Cher’s grin widened. "But if you want this little keepsake back, you’re going to have to do something for
me."
Allie clenched her fists. "What do you want?"
Cher’s tone turned sweet, mocking. "Come with me tonight. Help me get Liam to agree to that interview. Do that, and I’ll hand over your precious memory."
Allie hesitated, her pulse racing. The thought of Cher holding onto something so personal made her stomach churn.
"Fine. But after tonight, I don’t want to see your face again."
"Deal," Cher said cheerfully, as if they were old friends. "Now grab the equipment. We’ve got a story to cover."
By the time Allie returned with the equipment case, Cher had transformed. She wore a glittering fishtail evening gown, her makeup polished to perfection. She looked radiant—and entirely calculating.
Allie glanced down at her own casual outfit, her plain dress an obvious contrast to Cher’s glamour.
Cher smirked. "Cute look. But let’s not waste time. Get in the car."
The cab ride to Hart Manor was tense. Cher tapped her nails on her phone, scrolling and scheming. Allie stared out the window, wishing she could be anywhere else.
When they arrived, the sight of the estate took Allie’s breath away. Hart Manor loomed like a modern palace, its white stone walls illuminated by golden lights. Ornate gates stood guarded by men in black suits, checking each guest’s invitation.
Cher strutted ahead, brandishing a glossy card. "Here you go," she said with practiced confidence.
The guard barely glanced at it before shaking his head. "This is fake. You can’t enter."
Cher’s smile faltered. "Excuse me? I was personally invited!"
The guard’s expression didn’t budge. "No seal, no entry."
Allie leaned over, glancing at the card. "He’s right. The real invitations have a golden emblem in the corner. Yours doesn’t."
Cher whipped around, her eyes blazing. "You knew this was fake?"
Allie shrugged. "Figured it out a while ago."
"And you didn’t say anything? Were you just waiting to watch me make a fool of myself?"
"Maybe," Allie said, her lips curving into the faintest smile.
Cher glared at her, fists clenched. "You think this is funny?"
"Not really. But it’s satisfying."
For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension. Then Cher took a deep breath, smoothing her dress and
plastering on a tight smile.
“Allie, let’s just leave,” Cher snapped, glaring at the security guard. “This is pointless.”
- Writer
