Elite Fraud

Chapter 16: Foreign World

As I stand in front of the body length mirror, I am awe-struck at the reflection that stares back at me. I look other-worldly, like I belong to a fairytale. The gown is an ivory white, slightly shimmering, with golden, delicate, floral embroidery across the bottom of the skirt. It flows around me in an angelic heap, trailing the floor when I move. The same floral design wraps around the bodice and the sheer sleeves that hang loosely over my shoulders to cover my arms.

It's as simple as it can get for this event, the skirt not protruding like it could stand on its own, but still ritzy enough for Madam Clémence's liking. And mine too, I admit despite the low neckline.

It is half-past seven, thirty minutes into the gala, and I can hear the distant chatter, elite laughter, and clinking against champagne glasses from here. I wonder if Theo is one of them.

The week passed, and he didn't make an appearance at school. The initial crossness I felt towards him faded and was replaced with alarm, so I relented and texted him on Wednesday. Still, no reply. Then, I finally overheard Atlas talking to Idris about Theo on a family trip. Why couldn't he just take a minute out of his day to answer my texts? Why couldn't he tell me beforehand? Just like that, the concern shifted back to anger and irritation.

But he has to be here today. Talk of this event was in every student's conversation and on many tabloid headlines, and Theo is a Roman himself. He can't miss it.

I stop fretting over the thought of him and decide that I have to get through this evening without him. It's okay if he doesn't make an appearance; this is just another thing I have to get through. The people downstairs are nothing more than empty bodies in pretty gowns and suits. But even as I try to convince myself, the lie seeps through as I walk out of the room, and the noises downstairs get louder.

When I near the grand staircase, I freeze at the sight below me.

The deep mahogany staircase splits only to meet at the bottom of what looks like a scene from a movie. The empty reception I glimpsed a few hours ago is transformed into a grand ball lit by yellow light from magnificent, blazing chandeliers. Waiters drift between the crowd of people in elaborate gowns and suits, carrying trays of champagne flasks that glint like stars amidst a wave of colors. Musicians play classical music while guests dance or gather in groups, talking over plates heaped with food.

My eyes sweep over the scene, looking for the one person I vowed to forget this night. But I'm only met with unfamiliar women and men plastering fake smiles and forced laughs, their eyes predatory like animals in a jungle. With an anxious squeeze of my heart, I realize that this is going to be harder than I'd anticipated.

I consider stepping back and hiding in the guest room until it's all over, but familiar, piercing grey eyes lock with mine. David Roman stands with a group of men, a flask in his hand. He merely raises his flask in salute in my direction with a nod, and I know that it's too late for me to hide.

I take a deep breath and descend the stairs, careful not to trip over my trailing gown by staring at the steps before me. They're granite, the color of candle wax, and I count twenty before I look up to see—

Theo. In all his glory, he stands in a fitted tux, arms locked behind his back as his eyes travel up my dress. My breath hitches when they land on mine, and I completely forget the past week.

His lips quirk. "Miss Black. You look . . . Exquisite."

He holds out an arm and I hook my hands around him, letting him lead us through the crowd. "You don't look so bad yourself either."

He laughs. "You know what, I'll take it."

"You don't deserve it."

"I'm sorry. I meant to call, but I spent the week with no service on a family trip."