Charlotte's POV
The tracking device fell from my shaking fingers and bounced across the bathroom floor.
I stared at it, a tiny black chip no bigger than a button, and felt my whole world tilt sideways.
Why would Marcus put a tracker in my dress?
My phone buzzed. A text from him: "Can't wait to see you tonight, beautiful. The dress will look beautiful on you."
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. I should ask him about the tracker. Demand an answer. But what if Jamie was right? What if Marcus was dangerous?
What if asking questions put me in more danger?
I picked up the tiny device and turned it over in my hands. Maybe there was an innocent reason. Maybe it was normal security for expensive dresses. Maybe rich people always track their valuable things.
That sounded stupid even in my own head.
But tonight was New Year's Eve. The Royal Winter Ball. My one chance to be somebody instead of nobody.
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. My eyes were red from not sleeping. My hair was a mess. I looked exactly like what I was: a scared, confused girl who didn't know what to do. "Get it together, Charlotte," I whispered to my image. "You're probably exaggerating. Jamie put doubts in your head, and now you're seeing problems that don't exist."
I could skip the ball. Stay home. Be safe.
But then what? Go back to my basement office and spend the rest of my life being invisible? Never take chances? Never trust anyone?
No.
I'd worked too hard, hoped too much, to give up now.
I made a choice. I'd go to the ball. I'd wear the dress. But I'd leave the tracking device here in my room. If Marcus asked about it, I'd say it must have fallen out.
And if something felt wrong tonight, really wrong, I'd call Jamie as I promised.
I put the tracker in my desk drawer and closed it tightly.
Then I started getting ready.
The hot shower helped calm my nerves. I washed my hair twice, making sure it was perfect. Then I spent an hour drying and styling it, curling it into soft waves that made me look older, better, more confident.
Makeup next. I didn't have much, just some basics I'd bought for special events that never came. But I did my best, following lessons I'd watched online. Foundation to cover the dark bags under my eyes. Mascara to make my brown eyes look bigger. A little blush. Lip gloss that made my lips look soft and kissable.
When I looked in the mirror again, I barely recognized myself.
I looked like someone who belonged at a Royal Ball.
The dress slid on easily, fitting perfectly like Marcus knew it would. The silver cloth hugged my body in all the right places, making me look elegant instead of tiny. The beads caught the light and sparkled with every movement.
I looked beautiful.
For the first time in my twenty-six years, I actually looked beautiful.
Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them away. Couldn't ruin the makeup now.
My phone said 6:15 PM. The ball started at seven, and it was a two-hour drive to the main city. I needed to leave now.
I grabbed my small purse, just big enough for my phone, some money, and my ID, and called for a cab.
While I waited, I stared at my desk drawer. The one with the tracking device inside.
Maybe I should bring it. Put it back in the dress. What if Marcus noticed it was missing and got angry?
No. If he got angry about a lost tracker, that would tell me everything I needed to know about him.
The cab honked outside.
I took one last look at myself in the mirror, grabbed my coat, and left.
The cab driver was an older wolf named Frank who talked the entire two-hour drive. About his grandkids. About the weather. About how he'd driven to the city thousands of times and knew every shortcut.
I barely heard him. My mind was spinning with a million thoughts.
What if Marcus really did love me, and I was ruining everything by being paranoid?
What if Jamie was right, and I was walking into a trap?
What if those frightening texts were real? "You okay, miss?" Frank glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "You look nervous." "Just excited. First time attending something this fancy." "Ah, the Winter Ball! My wife and I went once, years ago. Most beautiful party you'll ever see. Don't worry, you'll have a great time."
I forced a smile and looked out the window.
The city grew closer, tall buildings appearing on the horizon. Snow was falling harder now, covering everything in white. It should have looked amazing, but all I could think about was that warning text: "Enjoy the ball, Charlotte. It's the last party you'll ever attend." "Here we are!" Frank pulled up in front of the Grand Crystal Ballroom.
My breath caught.
The building was huge, covered in lights that made it glow like something from a fairy tale. Well-dressed wolves walked up the big entrance stairs, laughing and talking. Everything looked perfect and expensive and so far above my daily life that I almost told Frank to turn around and take me home.
But I paid him, added a big tip because he'd been nice, and stepped out into the cold night air.
Other women were walking past in gorgeous gowns. Men in expensive suits and military outfits with shiny medals. Everyone looked like they belonged here.
Everyone except me. "You can do this," I whispered to myself. "Marcus is inside. He invited you. You belong here just as much as anyone else."
I climbed the stairs slowly, my legs shaking. A man at the door checked my invitation, the one Marcus had gotten for me, and waved me inside.
The ballroom was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Crystal lights. Gold decorations. Ice sculptures. A huge clock counting down to midnight. Hundreds of people in fancy clothes, drinking champagne, and laughing.
And somewhere in this crowd was Marcus.
My Marcus.
Who sent me a dress with a tracking device in it?
I pushed through the crowd, studying faces, looking for him. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it over the music.
Then I saw him.
Marcus stood near the center of the ballroom, looking handsome in his formal military outfit. All his medals gleamed under the lights. He was smiling at something someone said.
I started to walk toward him, relief rushing through me. There he was. Everything would be okay now. I'd been silly to worry.
Then I saw who he was smiling at.
A beautiful blonde woman in a gold dress stood next to him. She was holding his hand. As I watched, frozen in place, Marcus leaned down and kissed her cheek.
The woman giggled and pressed closer to him.
And an older woman I recognized from news reports, Senator Vivian Kane, beamed at them both like a happy mother.
No.
No, this couldn't be happening.
Marcus turned slightly, and his eyes met mine across the crowded hall.
For just a second, I saw something flash across his face.
Not love. Not happy to see me.
Guilt.
And then it was gone, replaced by cold indifference.
He turned away and pulled the blonde woman closer, saying something in her ear that made her laugh.
Someone bumped into me from behind. "Excuse me, miss. You're blocking the door."
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
Marcus was with another woman.
Holding her hand.
Kissing her.
After sending me a dress and telling me he couldn't wait to see me tonight. "Miss, you need to move."
A man's voice boomed across the hall, loud enough to make the music stop and everyone turn to look. "Ladies and gents, thank you all for coming tonight! Before we continue the celebration, I have a very special statement to make."
Marcus had stepped forward, the blonde woman still attached to his arm.
He was smiling that lovely smile I thought he only used for me.
And his eyes found mine in the crowd one more time before he spoke. "I'm pleased to announce my engagement to Isabelle Kane. The wedding will be this spring!"
The ballroom erupted in applause and compliments.
And I felt my heart break into a million pieces.