Author's POV
St. Damaris Academy was preparing for one of its few sanctioned celebrations—the Founder's Gala, an annual masquerade held on campus to honor the school's long lineage of power, politics, and poison. It was the only event where blood-stained families dressed like royalty and pretended to be civilized for a night.
For most students, the Gala was a chance to flaunt wealth and status. But for the Kings?
It was a battlefield in silk.
And for Vivienne?
It was a landmine.
Especially when an invitation showed up in her locker—a sleek black envelope sealed with the Belcastro crest.
Vivienne's POV
I stared at the card. The wax seal was still warm, like it had just been placed there. And I knew exactly what it meant.
Ezra wanted to see me.
Or test me.
Possibly both.
The Gala was three days away. And in those three days, the air in the academy grew thick with tension. Students whispered about me more now—curious, threatened, obsessed.
I liked it.
But I also hated it.
Because the attention came with shadows. And I could feel someone watching me too closely, too often.
Author's POV
Vivienne's instincts were right.
It wasn't just the Kings who noticed her now.
Emilia Rowe—sweet, golden Emilia—had started to watch too. But not with kindness. With confusion. With worry.
And beneath that, something colder.
A jealousy that didn't belong to the heroine she was supposed to be.
Vivienne's POV
"Why are you talking to Luca so much?" Emilia asked me one afternoon after literature class. Her tone was light. But her eyes weren't.
"Why are you keeping track?" I replied, not bothering to hide my smirk.
She blinked. "I—I didn't mean it like that, I just—"
"Don't worry, Emilia. You'll have your chance to win them over. That's how the story goes, doesn't it?"
She looked startled. And for a second, I saw a flicker of something new in her. Something sharper than innocence.
Interesting.
---
Three days passed in a blur of silk fittings, security sweeps, and whispered threats.
The night of the Gala arrived under a crescent moon.
St. Damaris had transformed. The grand ballroom sparkled with chandeliers and obsidian tiles, silver ribbons curling from marble pillars, and the scent of rare orchids mixed with champagne.
Everyone wore masks. But some faces were unforgettable.
Like the one belonging to Ezra Belcastro.
Author's POV
Vivienne descended the staircase wearing blood-red satin and a mask made of black lace. She didn't walk—she glided. And every eye turned.
Including four.
Ezra.
Luca.
Kai.
Damian.
Each one frozen by something they couldn't explain.
Vivienne was supposed to be the villain. But she looked like royalty born to rule.
Ezra approached first.
"Sinclair."
"Belcastro."
"You clean up dangerously."
She smiled. "So do you. But I bet you still carry a blade somewhere in that suit."
He leaned in. "Maybe you'll find it."
Vivienne's POV
I wasn't breathing. Not really. The music swirled around me, lights blurring, bodies spinning. But Ezra's presence was an anchor.
He offered his hand. I took it.
And we danced.
It wasn't graceful. It wasn't perfect. It was electric.
He was too close. His touch was steady. His eyes never left mine.
Around us, the other Kings watched. Luca with a tilt of his head, curiosity alight. Kai, unreadable as always. Damian, brooding with a drink in hand, scowling like he didn't understand his own jealousy.
And somewhere in the crowd… Emilia.
Watching.
Again.
Author's POV
The Gala reached its peak with the lighting of the ceremonial flame—a Damaris tradition symbolizing loyalty to the Academy.
But this year, a spark lit elsewhere.
In the eyes of four heirs.
And in the heart of a villainess who refused to play by the rules.
Vivienne broke away from Ezra after the dance, retreating to the balcony for air. The night was colder than expected.
And then she heard footsteps.
Vivienne's POV
Luca.
He held out a glass of champagne. "You made quite an impression tonight."
"Is that a compliment or a threat?"
"Maybe both." He leaned against the railing beside me. "Ezra doesn't dance with anyone. Ever."
"I guess I'm not just anyone."
He studied me. "That's what worries me."
I turned toward him, letting the breeze lift my curls. "Why?"
"Because we don't fall for strangers, Vivienne. We break them."
I took the glass, sipped once, and smiled.
"Then maybe I'll be the one doing the breaking this time."
---
Inside, Emilia clenched her fists as she watched from behind the curtain.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Vivienne wasn't supposed to be… loved.
Not by them.
Not at all.