Chapter 21 Twenty One

Chapter 21 Twenty One
Rebelle’s POV

First of all, I never liked being touched, and right now, sitting in front of the mirror while someone decides how I should look felt too close to losing control, even though the woman behind me was careful, quiet, and clearly trained to deal with people who could snap any moment.

“Relax your shoulders,” she murmured gently, her fingers brushing lightly along my collarbone as she adjusted the fall of my hair, her tone calm and practiced, as if she had done this a hundred times before.

“I am relaxed,” I replied, even though my shoulders were stiff enough to prove otherwise.

She didn’t argue, she just hummed softly as she continued working, brushes gliding across my skin with precise movements, each stroke turning me into something I wasn’t sure I could recognize anymore.

The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of fabric and the faint clink of tools, even my own thoughts, which refused to stay still.

Three nights.

That was all it had taken for everything to shift. Three nights since Asa’s words and three nights since Ezekiel’s kiss.

And now.

This.

“You have sharp features,” the makeup artist said suddenly, breaking through my thoughts as she tilted my chin slightly upward, studying my face like it was something to be perfected, not something that had gone through a lot.

“Is that a compliment?” I asked.

“It means you don’t need much,” she replied. “But tonight isn’t about ‘not much.’”

Of course it wasn’t.

Nothing in this place ever was.

I stared at my reflection as she stepped back slightly, and for a moment, I didn’t move or speak because the girl staring back at me looked like she belonged here.

My sea-green eyes looked sharper somehow, darker, with perfect eye shadow and liner, my lips properly lined with lip gloss, my wild red hair tamed just enough to look intentional instead of chaotic, falling in waves down my back.

I wasn’t looking like me, but I was still me, just more cleaned up.

“Done,” she said quietly.

I nodded once, pushing myself to my feet, ignoring the slight shift in my stomach as I caught my reflection again from a different angle.

“Your dress is ready,” she added, gesturing toward the bed before stepping back, giving me space.

Finally.

I walked toward it slowly, my fingers brushing the fabric lightly before I even fully looked at it, feeling the smoothness, the weight, and the quiet luxury that came with something far too expensive for someone like me.

Then I actually looked at it and stilled.

It was black.

Not just black, it was deep black, the kind of color that didn’t ask for attention but demanded it anyway. It had a perfect structure, contouring in a way that left nothing to the imagination while still looking elegant.

The slit along the side was high.

Too high.

“Subtle,” I muttered under my breath.

“Is something wrong?” the woman asked cautiously.

I shook my head slowly, still staring at it. “No… just figuring out whether this dress is trying to get me killed or help me.”

She smiled faintly. “It was selected specifically for you.”

That made me pause.

“By who?”

There was the slightest hesitation before she answered.

“Mr. Genovese.” She finally said, looking down at the ground immediately.

My fingers stilled against the fabric unconsciously, “Which one?” I asked, even though something in me already knew.

“Ezekiel.” She answered.

Of course, it was him.

I let out a slow breath, my grip tightening just slightly on the dress as something unfamiliar settled in my chest, something I didn’t want to name.

He chose this, not Asa or anyone else, but…

Him.

“Do you need assistance dressing?” the woman asked.

“No,” I said immediately, a little too quickly.

She nodded once, understanding, and quietly left the room, the door clicking shut behind her and leaving me alone with the dress and my thoughts.

For a moment, I just stood there, then I picked it up.

The fabric slid over my skin as it belonged there, cool at first, then warming as it settled, clinging in all the right places, giving me a more defined shape. And by the time I finished adjusting it, I realized one thing for certain.

This dress would bring too much attention to me.

I stepped in front of the mirror again, my breath catching slightly despite myself.

“Yeah,” I murmured. “Definitely trying to kill me.”

Suddenly, a knock came at the door, and before I could respond, it opened.

Ezekiel.

He stepped inside like he owned the space…well, technically, he did, but that’s not the point.

His gaze fell on me, and instantly he stopped in his tracks and for once didn’t speak; he looked at me, taking in everything without hesitation, and something in the way his jaw tightened made my pulse kick just a little faster.

“Well?” I asked, folding my arms slightly even though it didn’t hide much in this dress.

His gaze lifted to meet mine.

“You’re late,” he said.

I blinked. “That’s your response?” I said in disbelief.

“You were supposed to be ready five minutes ago.” He deadpans.

I stared at him for a second. “I look like this, and you’re talking about timing?”

His eyes flickered slightly, something shifting behind them before he stepped closer, closing the distance between us slowly.

“You look…” he started, then stopped.

That alone caught my attention.

“What?” I pressed.

His gaze dropped again briefly, then returned to mine, sharper now.

“Like exactly what I expected,” I said, clenching his jaw and pushing his hand into his pants pocket.

I huffed softly. “You’re really bad at compliments.”

“I’m not trying to compliment you.”

“Then what are you doing?” I question.

And there was A slight pause.

“Making sure no one else forgets who you’re with.” He said quietly, his eyes locked on mine, and I could perceive his addictive cologne.

His being this close to me brings back a flashback of that night, and without thinking, my eyes drop on his lips, and that did something to me.

I didn’t have time to respond before he turned slightly, gesturing toward the door.

“Come on,” he orders.

Shaking my thoughts, I silently followed him out, my heels clicking softly against the floor, each step feeling too loud, like the entire estate was now aware of my presence

By the time we reached the staircase, the sound of the ballroom below was impossible to ignore. It was mixed with soft music and occasional laughter.

“As if on cue,” Ezekiel suddenly said quietly, his gaze shifting downward, and I followed it, and there he was.

Asa.

Standing at the bottom of the staircase like he had been waiting, like he knew exactly when I would appear, dressed in a black Tom-ford suit just like his brother, but where Ezekiel was controlled, Asa was….Calculated.

And his usual smile, which clearly screams 'dangerous'.

Then his gaze lifted slowly and landed on me. Instantly, there was a slight shift in the air as we locked eyes for a moment.

“Well,” Asa called up lightly, though his eyes were anything but light, “this just became far more interesting.” He says.

I felt Ezekiel step slightly closer beside me, not touching, but close enough to be felt.

“Come down,” Asa added, extending a hand upward, and at the same time…Ezekiel spoke, his voice lower.

“Stay behind me when we reach the floor.” He orders.

I glanced between them, one offering and the other commanding, both watching as well, waiting.

And suddenly, the choice felt heavier than it should have. So I didn’t make one.

“Neither,” I muttered under my breath.

Then I stepped forward and walked past both of them, alone. I could feel their attention instantly shift, both of them following without a word as I descended the staircase, each step steady.

If this were a stage, then I’d walk it my way.

The ballroom opened up around me the second I stepped onto the floor, conversations dipping just slightly, their attention turning.

“Bold,” Asa murmured behind me as he caught up.

“Stupid,” Ezekiel corrected.

“Same thing,” I replied.

For a moment, it almost felt normal until it didn’t. It all happened too fast. There was a shift in movement beside me as a server passed by, then a glass suddenly tipped over, and cold liquid spilled across the floor, right under my heel, which I stepped on without knowing, then… slipped.

My balance went instantly, my body tilting forward too fast to recover, my heel sliding completely out from under me as the world tilted sharply.

This wasn’t a stumble but a real damn fall.

My ankle twisted hard, pain shooting up my leg as I lost all control, my body going down fast

A sharp gasp escaped me before I could stop it, the room tilting violently as I braced for impact.

But it never came as two hands suddenly caught me, one firm around my waist, and the other gripping my arm tightly enough to hurt.

Ezekiel and Asa at the same time.

And for a second, everything froze, the music, voices, and the air as well.

Pain throbbed in my ankle instantly, my breath uneven as I tried to steady myself, but their grips didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened.

“Who did that?” Ezekiel’s voice came out low, dangerous, scanning the room like he was already looking for someone to punish.

“Careful,” Asa murmured, but his tone had shifted too, darker now, his hand still firm around my waist, not letting go, “you’ll scare our guests.” He says lowly.

“I don’t care about the guests.” He grits out

“I know.” He responds calmly.

I swallowed, trying to steady myself, my hand instinctively gripping Ezekiel’s arm for support.

“I’m fine,” I said, even though the pain in my ankle said otherwise.

“You’re not,” he replied instantly.

“I said I’m…”

“You’re limping,” he cuts in before I could finish my sentence with a sharp tone.

But he was right.

Asa’s gaze flickered downward, taking in the slight shift in my stance and the tension in my body.

Then he smiled, but not in an amusing way.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

“What is?” I asked.

His eyes lifted back to mine.

“This wasn’t an accident,” he states.

A chill instantly ran down my spine. “What do you mean?” I asked, but deep down I knew what he meant.

But he didn’t answer immediately, and suddenly Ezekiel’s grip tightened slightly instead, his voice cutting sharply

“Someone just made a mistake,” I said, still trying to convince myself more than them.

And there was a pause

Then Asa leaned in slightly, his voice quieter, but sharper.

“And now they’re going to regret it,” he says

My breath caught slightly.

“Stay close tonight, Rebelle,” Asa murmured.