When The Puppet Falls For The Puppeteer

The Promise of the Night

"He'll kill me," I cut in quietly, not even bothering to dress it as a joke. My gaze flickered to where Dan was leaning against the wall, listening but saying nothing. His silence was confirmation enough. Dan didn't argue, didn't deny it—because he knew.

Ash too looked at Dan for support. He raised his hands in surrender. "I really want to say Myra is wrong and he will not kill her, trust me I really do want to..." He said knowing very well that he will literally kill me.

"You can try going alone" he suggested.

"What-no Dan that's pathetic to not have a date at your own prom" Ash cuts him. "Why is he not going? Isn't he is too fond of attention?" she asked rolling her eyes.

I shrugged, forcing a careless tone. "Well, he says its not his prom. He dropped out of his senior year so technically him attending this will be an unfair competition to our batch, who should be actual participants for prom king."

"And offcourse he is going to win...God how can someone be so arrogant" she snickered

"It's fine. I don't care about prom." I said ending the discussion

But Ash saw the way my eyes dipped, the way my fingers twisted around counting the beads of my bracelet. She knew I did care—desperately—but there isn't any point anymore. Not when Marcus had already decided.

Later that night we were hanging out in the living room. Ash and Dan all snuggled up as we were watching a movie and Lillie and I were throwing popcorn at each other.

"Red"

I heard him and poked Lillie's nose "This isn't over" I tickled her before moving upstairs.

"You need anything Marcus" I entered and asking him. I was expecting another order. Instead, he was leaning against his desk, one hand buried in his pocket, the other resting casually on a garment bag draped over the chair.

My brows knit. "What's that?"

He tilted his head, studying me, almost amused at my suspicion. "Come here."

I hesitated, then crossed the room. He unzipped the bag in one smooth motion, pulling it back to reveal the dress.

He pulled towards the full length mirror and brought the black extravagant gown in front of while he stood behind. Its black fabric was the softest silk I ever touched. It seemed to swallow the light, yet shimmered with every subtle movement. The central panel is sheer with a mesh-like base, adding a subtle element of allure, while the ornate embellishments provide both depth and texture. Flowing from the waist, layers of smooth, lustrous black silk cascade outward into a voluminous skirt, giving the dress both grandeur and movement. The structured side panels add fullness, creating an hourglass effect that balances sensuality with sophistication. It feels less like just a dress and more like a statement: elegant but undeniably commanding, as though it was designed to be unforgettable. Surely his choice.

My breath caught in my throat. "Marcus..."

"Your hair will look electrifying in it" he said looking at my long dark red hair. He was admiring his choice. Not just the dress but also his Red.

"Marcus this is-" I was lost at words. This must be so expensive.

His eyes met mine. Sharp, unreadable, but intent. "You really thought I'd let you sit at home and sulk, while the rest of them danced without you? I saw you really wanted to go...hmmm"

I swallowed, fingers reaching out to touch the fabric, trembling slightly. The weight of it felt unreal. "But you said you weren't going to take me..."

"I'm not. It's not my prom. I don't care about kings and crowns, or their little games. But you—" his voice dropped, his hand turned me to him. He cupped my chin, tilting my face up to his, "—you'll go. And you'll go with me."

My lips parted, the protest dying on my tongue.

"H-how?"

I'll take you as your chaperone," he cut in, decisive. "I am three years older to you, you live under my roof—it makes sense. I'll stand at your side, keep you safe, but I won't compete in their little games. No crowns, no titles. Just you and me."

"Don't ever think of walking in there on another man's arm," he warned, eyes darkening. "Even if I had to burn that gym to the ground, I'd never let that happen." His thumb brushed my jawline, softer now, though the words left no room for question.

I blinked fast, fighting the sting in my eyes. I wanted to argue, to say it wasn't fair, that I wanted him there with me as my date, not just beside her as some unspoken guard.

But then I looked at the dress again. He noticed. He had cared enough to give me this, even if he'd never say it in plain words. 

"But Marcus, this dress, it must be so expensive. Why you spent so much-" He led his finger on my lips cutting me off "Money isn't your problem, Red. What matters is that you look the way I want you to."

My throat tightened. "It's beautiful, thank you so much Marcus" I whispered

Something flickered in his gaze—satisfaction, maybe, or a shadow of something gentler. "Good. You'll wear it for me. Right?"

I nodded, clutching the fabric like it was the only anchor I had, my heart thudding unevenly.