CHAPTER SEVEN
ALEXIA P.O.V
I stood in the middle of my walk-in closet, surrounded by racks of designer clothes, shoes, and accessories—yet somehow, nothing felt right.
Not a single thing caught my attention.
This was exactly why I hated parties.
I was still staring blankly at a row of dresses when a knock sounded on the door.
"Come in," I called absentmindedly.
"Delivery from Madam Naomi for you, miss," my butler announced as he stepped in.
"Leave it in the corner," I replied without even turning around, still mentally fighting my wardrobe.
"Yes, ma'am."
The door clicked shut.
"Arrgh!" I groaned, flopping backward onto my bed in frustration.
My eyes drifted upward… landing on the painting on the wall.
The moon.
The stars.
Soft strokes of silver and blue dancing across the surface.
A memory tugged at me.
Twelve-year-old me… and Old Man Will, staying up all night painting it together.
He had done it to cheer me up.
That day…
I had come home crying after being bullied by some boys.
Before this fiery, untouchable version of me existed, I was… quiet. Shy.
Not because I wanted to be.
But because people avoided me like a plague.
And when they didn't avoid me…
They bullied me.
All because of the scar.
The ugly, jagged scar that once stretched across my left cheek.
Normally, any injury I got healed within minutes. Three at most. That was one of my… special traits.
But that scar?
It never disappeared.
No matter how hard I tried.
Old Man Will said he found me like that—broken, barely alive near a lake. He believed the scar was tied to my past.
A past I couldn't remember.
Not a single thing before the day he found me.
He took me to the hospital.
No one came for me.
No one claimed me.
So… he did.
He became my family.
Even now, I still remembered nothing.
But a few years ago… something strange happened.
I woke up one morning—
And the scar was gone.
Just like that.
No trace. No explanation.
Grandpa simply said I had "grown out of it."
Whatever that meant.
"…Weird," I murmured under my breath.
My gaze shifted lazily across the room until it landed on the box in the corner.
"Oh right…"
I pushed myself up and walked over, curiosity flickering.
"What's this?"
I opened it—
And froze.
Inside was a stunning black dress. Long, sleeveless, with a mermaid silhouette that hugged perfectly before flaring at the bottom. A daring slit ran along the side, revealing just enough. The fabric shimmered subtly, catching the light with every movement. At the waistline, a delicate bow added the perfect touch of elegance.
It was breathtaking.
A small note slipped out.
"This is to make up for leaving you at the villa. Hope you like it.
Love, Naomi."
A soft smile crept onto my lips.
"Aww… Naomi."
I glanced at the time.
Shoot.
It was almost time for the banquet.
—
At the Party
I stepped out of the limo and paused, taking in the view.
The mansion was magnificent.
At the center of the compound stood a grand fountain—two elegant swans curved toward each other, their necks forming a perfect heart. The surrounding garden was pristine, every blade of grass and every flower meticulously arranged.
The Slades really knew how to put on a show.
Inside, the atmosphere was already alive.
Music.
Laughter.
Glasses clinking.
The dance floor was filled with lovebirds swaying under dim lights. Gold-diggers scanned the room for their next wealthy target. Playboys lurked like predators, eyes roaming. Self-proclaimed elite bachelors drowned themselves in expensive alcohol, while sharp-suited businessmen circled like hungry sharks, hunting for deals and investments.
The usual.
Boring.
I stepped further in, grabbing a drink from a passing waiter.
"You're late!" Clara's voice cut through the noise as she and Naomi approached me.
"Oh please," I scoffed, taking a sip. "The party just started."
I took a larger gulp, letting the drink burn pleasantly down my throat.
"Now… who's ready to party?" I grinned.
"I'd love to party with a beauty like you."
Ugh.
A sleazy guy appeared out of nowhere.
"Ew. Not you. Beat it," I said flatly.
"No need to be mean, baby girl," he smirked, reaching out to touch my cheek with his disgusting hand.
Big mistake.
I was just about to twist his wrist into something unrecognizable when—
"Didn't you hear what she said?" Naomi snapped, grabbing his arm and bending it painfully.
"Arghh!! You girls are so mean!" he cried out.
"Aww, little baby wants to cry?" Clara mocked. "Should I go find your mummy for you?"
"Why you—!"
He actually raised his hand toward Clara.
Oh hell no.
Before he could even complete the motion—
THUD.
I knocked him out cold.
He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
"Is he… dead?" Clara asked, nudging him with her foot.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Come on, let's go party."
I grabbed both of them, ready to disappear back into the chaos.
"Actually," Clara interrupted, "we're having a small family dinner upstairs. My parents want to meet you two."
Naomi nodded. "Sure, let's go."
I hesitated.
A strange feeling settled in my chest.
"I don't have a good feeling about this…"
—
Upstairs
The moment we stepped in, I froze.
A large dining table stretched across the room, covered with perfectly arranged dishes that looked way too good to ignore.
My stomach growled internally.
Focus, Alexia.
Naomi nudged me, snapping me out of my food trance.
And then—
I saw him.
The Robot.
Sitting there like he owned the air everyone was breathing.
Just my luck.
Beside him were Mr. and Mrs. Slade… and another man—Clara's other brother, Allen.
I straightened immediately.
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Slade. It's a pleasure to meet you," I said politely.
"The pleasure is ours," Mrs. Slade replied warmly. "Oh my, Alexia… you've grown into such a beautiful young lady."
"I could say the same, Mrs. Slade. You're absolutely gorgeous," I smiled.
She laughed softly. "Such a sweet mouth. Please, take a seat."
That's when I realized—
I was the only one still standing.
And the only empty seat…
Was between Clara and him.
Fantastic.
I forced a polite smile and walked over, sitting down while silently groaning.
"I've missed you so much, my dear," Mrs. Slade continued. "How was your study abroad? You didn't even visit us when you returned."
"My apologies," I said smoothly. "I was quite occupied at the time. But it doesn't excuse my absence. As for my studies—it was… enlightening. A truly thrilling experience."
"So," Mr. Slade leaned forward slightly, his tone more probing, "what exactly were you studying abroad?"
The question hung in the air.
And suddenly…
The room didn't feel so warm anymore.