Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir by Ryker Helios

The host asks everyone to be seated, so I look around the tables to see if there is an empty spot. There are few, so I choose the one nearest to me. As I make my way through the tables, I realize that the seat next to me is occupied by none other than Coraline Granger.

She looks so different from the girl she once was but similar at the same time. For example, her previous bob-cut style haircut is gone, replaces by luscious platinum blond curls that rivulet down her naked shoulders. Her gorgeous blue eyes, larger than life and electric, flashes t her friends, crinkling at the corners as she laughs at something they say. Her face gleams like the full moon, her makeup almost non-existent. Ruby-red lips contrast dizzyingly with the pearlescent tone of her teeth. She wears diamonds in her ears and neck, with a plain, black strapless dress.

She looks so mature and sophisticated.

Beautiful.

I could hear the conversation she’s having with her friends even from here, them inquiring her about her whereabouts and her life.

“How have you been, Coraline? Girl, you look so gorgeous.”

“How’s university treating you?”

“You got a boyfriend yet? Go on, don’t be shy.”

She used to be very open and friendly, nice enough compared to Jon, so I risk it and decide to take the seat next to her. And it’s not like I’m going to hit on her or creep her out. I just want a seat and maybe some platonic company for the evening.

permission before trying to take a seat because as soon as Coraline notices

her hand on the chair as if she’s trying to protect it,

the good grace to blush, certain that I

friends, and when she turns back

feel nasty déjà vu in the back of my mind. Something tells me that smirk is

sit next to a hobo like you. Are you lost or

What is this, be an asshole to Jace week? Why was everyone

I find my voice after overcoming my initial shock. “That was a little uncalled for, isn’t

something better,” Jon’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn to see him sauntering towards us. His expression morphs into that of disgust as he looks me up and down, “What on earth made

although I have dressed up in the best clothes I own. Jeans, shirts, and a respectable coat. Should I

be able to call upon your common sense,” Jon scoffs, “Did you get those shoes from a dump

heat up as I look down

before turning her attention to Jon’s shoes, “Compared to

he sticks a leg out, showing off the designer shoes that adorn his foot. They are back in color and look to be made of leather, positively shimmering in the evening lights. There’s a harness with black metal buckles going

sudden huff of laughter that escapes my throat, making

myself under control. “But Jon, I think someone scammed you on those shoes. Those aren’t