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.

before trying to take a seat because as

putting her hand on the chair as

good grace to blush, certain that I was about to take someone’s seat, “I didn’t realize it

at her friends, and when she turns back to me there is a taunting smirk on her

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

seat is not occupied,” she replies haughtily, “I just don’t want to sit next to a hobo like you. Are you lost or something? Because this is not the sort of place where we’d have the misfortune of bumping into someone

grinds to a halt as I stare at her, processing what she’d just uttered. What is this, be an

was a little uncalled for, isn’t

turn to see him sauntering towards us. His expression morphs

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

of a fine establishment like this, you should be able to call upon your common sense,” Jon scoffs, “Did you get those shoes from a dump truck

cheeks heat up as I look

fake gagging before

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 around the ankle and down to the crevice between his sole and the slop leading to the ball. The Gucci mark shines proudly. There’s a dot pattern on the toes, and I

the sudden huff of laughter that escapes my throat, making everyone

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