chapter 8:The girl in the Red Dress

VALENTINA’S POV

“Stop moving!” Chloe ordered.

“I am standing perfectly still.”

“You're breathing like someone preparing for execution.”

“That's because you're tightening this dress around my lungs.”

She released the zipper and stepped back.

“There. Now look at yourself.”

I turned toward the mirror.

And stopped.

The red dress hugged my waist before falling elegantly to the floor. Its neckline was simple, its back slightly open, and the colour made my brown skin glow. My brunette hair fell in soft waves around my shoulders, and my freckles stood out across my nose.

I barely recognised the girl staring back at me.

“Chloe.”

“Don't you dare say you look terrible.”

“I look… different.”

“You look expensive.”

I immediately frowned.

“That's not a compliment I want.”

She threw her head back laughing.

“Fine. You look gorgeous. Happy?”

I examined the dress again.

It wasn't mine. Chloe had borrowed it from her cousin, and I had spent the afternoon worrying about accidentally damaging it.

Meanwhile, my mother had called twice about money.

My father hadn't returned my last message.

I pushed those thoughts away.

Tonight, I wanted one evening where I wasn't worrying about rent, assignments, or whether my scholarship would survive the strange politics of this university.

“Let's go,” I said.

Chloe grabbed her purse.

“And Valentina?”

“Yes?”

“Please don't insult anybody important tonight.”

“No promises.”

---

The gala was held inside Blackwood University's grand ballroom.

Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. A string quartet played near the staircase, and waiters moved through the crowd carrying trays of drinks.

Luxury cars lined the entrance.

Diamonds flashed beneath the lights.

And every second person seemed to be discussing money.

I leaned toward Chloe.

“If someone sneezes in here, will they charge them for the air?”

She nearly spat out her drink.

“Please behave.”

“I'm behaving. I'm simply observing the natural habitat of wealthy people.”

“Your observations are going to get us expelled.”

Before I could reply, a familiar voice interrupted us.

“Well, look who finally discovered a dress that fits.”

Seraphina Vale stood in front of us, wearing a silver gown and a smile sharp enough to cut glass. Madison Pierce stood beside her, examining me as though I were an unpleasant stain on the ballroom floor.

Seraphina's eyes travelled down my dress.

“Red is a bold choice for someone who usually dresses like a librarian.”

I smiled.

“Silver is a bold choice for someone whose personality has no colour.”

Chloe coughed into her hand.

Madison's mouth fell open.

Seraphina's smile tightened.

“You should be careful, Valentina. People here don't appreciate girls who forget their place.”

“Then it's fortunate I'm not interested in finding one.”

I walked away before she could answer.

My heart was beating faster than I wanted to admit, but I refused to let either girl see it.

Back home, I had learned that people who felt powerful often tried to make others feel small.

I wasn't going to give Seraphina that satisfaction.

Then I saw Adrian.

He stood near the staircase in a black tuxedo, his dark hair carefully styled and his expression as unreadable as ever. Several students surrounded him, laughing at something Mason had said.

Adrian barely seemed to notice them.

Until he looked at me.

His laughter stopped.

His gaze travelled over my dress, then returned to my face.

For once, the arrogant boy appeared to have misplaced his words.

I lifted an eyebrow.

“Is there something on my face?”

His eyes met mine.

“No.”

“Then stop staring.”

Mason appeared beside him, grinning.

“Oh, this is going to be a wonderful evening.”

Adrian shot him a murderous look.

I walked away before either of them could say anything else.

But I could feel Adrian watching me.

And annoyingly, I was becoming aware of him too.

---

ADRIAN'S POV

I had attended dozens of Blackwood family galas.

Every one of them followed the same miserable pattern.

My father shook hands with investors. Politicians laughed at jokes they didn't find funny. Women complimented one another's jewellery while secretly calculating its value.

And I stood beside Richard Blackwood, pretending our family wasn't slowly suffocating beneath its own expectations.

Tonight, he had already introduced me to three potential business partners and reminded me twice that the university's entrepreneurship competition could open important doors.

“Your reputation needs repairing,” he told me quietly.

I glanced at him.

“My reputation?”

“You've allowed a scholarship student to challenge you publicly.”

I stared at him.

“Her name is Valentina.”

His expression hardened.

“Names don't matter. Results do.”

There it was again.

The same lesson he'd drilled into me since childhood.

People mattered only when they were useful.

Love was conditional.

And losing meant you deserved whatever punishment followed.

I looked across the ballroom.

Valentina was laughing with Chloe near the refreshments table. She wasn't wearing diamonds or carrying a designer handbag. Her dress was beautiful, but she wore it without the self-consciousness of someone trying to prove she belonged.

She looked comfortable in her own skin.

I couldn't remember the last time I had felt that way.

“Adrian.”

My father followed my gaze.

“Don't make a fool of yourself over that girl.”

I turned toward him.

“I'm not.”

“Good. You have a future to protect.”

He walked away before I could answer.

I watched him disappear into the crowd.

Then I looked back at Valentina.

She was talking to Daniel Brooks.

Again.

The bastard had apparently decided that following her around was his new extracurricular activity.

I crossed the ballroom before I could talk myself out of it.

“Reyes.”

She turned.

“Blackwood.”

“Dance with me.”

She blinked.

Then she laughed.

Actually laughed.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Mason, who had followed me, made a choking sound behind us.

I ignored him.

“It's a dance, Valentina. Not a marriage proposal.”

“Thank goodness. I don't think I could survive the wedding reception.”

Daniel smiled.

“She's busy, mate.”

I looked at him.

“I wasn't asking you.”

“And she wasn't asking you either,” Valentina replied.

That should have been the end of it.

Instead, she glanced toward the dance floor, where another couple was moving beneath the lights.

Then she looked back at me.

“One dance.”

I offered my hand.

She studied it suspiciously.

“If you step on my foot, I'm charging you medical expenses.”

I almost smiled.

“Put it on my account.”

“I'd rather put it on your father's. He seems to pay for everything else.”

That time, I couldn't stop the smile.

She placed her hand in mine.

And for one brief moment, standing there with her beneath the ballroom lights, I forgot about the competition, my father's expectations, and the photograph of Alexander waiting on my phone.

Then the music began.

I drew Valentina closer.

She stiffened.

“Don't get comfortable,” she warned.

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

But when she looked up at me, something changed.

Her expression softened for half a second, and I caught myself wondering what she would look like if she ever stopped fighting me long enough to trust me.

Then Daniel approached the edge of the dance floor.

He leaned toward Valentina and whispered something.

She laughed against my shoulder.

My hand tightened at her waist.

She immediately noticed.

“What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Your face disagrees.”

“Does he always make you laugh like that?”

She pulled back to study me.

Then a slow, dangerous smile spread across her face.

“Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“Are you jealous?”

“Don't flatter yourself.”

She laughed again.

I wanted to kiss that smile right off her face.

The thought came so suddenly that I nearly lost my rhythm.

Valentina noticed.

Her laughter faded.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

The music slowed.

Her hand remained in mine.

And I found myself looking at her mouth.

She looked at mine.

The air between us changed.

I leaned closer.

She didn't move away.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I was one breath away from doing something I couldn't take back when a voice cut through the music.

“Adrian.”

I closed my eyes.

Not now.

I turned.

Seraphina stood a few feet away, her expression furious.

But she wasn't looking at me.

She was staring at Valentina.

“You need to come with me,” she said coldly.

Valentina lifted her chin.

“Why?”

Seraphina held up her phone.

“Because someone has just sent me something very interesting about you.”

She turned the screen toward us.

My stomach dropped.

It was a photograph of Valentina entering the university administration building earlier that afternoon.

Beneath it was a message.

ASK THE SCHOLARSHIP GIRL WHAT SHE STOLE TO GET INTO BLACKWOOD UNIVERSITY.

Valentina's fingers went cold in mine.

She stared at the screen, her face slowly losing colour.

Then Seraphina leaned closer and whispered something that made Valentina step back.

I caught only the final words.

“...and by tomorrow morning, everyone will know.”

Valentina looked at me.

For the first time since I'd met her, she didn't have a sharp reply ready.

And suddenly, I understood.

Whatever was happening with the competition wasn't just about beating her.

Someone was preparing to destroy her.

And they had chosen the worst possible night to begin.

TO BE CONTINUED…