Lightning Strike (Billionaire Boys Club #3) | ongoing

Chapter 11

                      Alora:

As he so kindly stated, by the time that I have to leave arrives, a car does not. Not his anyway. Which, I am not mad about in the least, in fact, it brings a relieved sigh from my lungs.

I glance at myself once more in the mirror. A strapless, nude coloured dress fits my upper frame gorgeously while the bottom flares into a narrow a-line to the ground, sparkling in the light from all directions. I wear my hair down, naturally straight, tucked into my ears to waterfall down my back so that the diamonds dangling from my ears can be admired just as much, as well as the matching necklace. My shoes, though hidden by the dress, are no less elegant. A pair of simple crystal embellished pumps. My makeup is natural, only a darker shade of pink on my lips for the more formal occasion and finally, my bag is a classic Chanel clutch in a pinkish nude hue.

Perfect.

I head out the door and allow my driver to open the door for me before he gets in himself and starts the engine.

It's like the sound unlocks the reality check that has yet to hit me.

I cannot believe this.

Not only should I not be a candidate for this event, though make no mistake if I wanted to be I would, but why on earth did the dean put me with him of all people?

He may be popular but that's where his enthusiasm surrounding school ends. He doesn't care about it, seeing as how I've overheard nearly all of his teachers mention how nice it was to have him show up on numerous occasions while I'm passing by classrooms, he has no pride for it, take his choice of how to style his uniform by not even wearing the whole thing half the time, forgoing his blazer or leaving his top buttons undone from time to time.

He's clearly not a people person.

And as for me, I even share some of those regards in not really being a pioneering champion for the glory of Haven Prep. it doesn't make sense to choose me over someone like the student class president, and yet, here we are.

It likely has to do with the fact that our families are disgustingly wealthy, more so than the rest of the students, but why pick the top two when there's a plethora of trust fund babies who actually want to be in this position?

This school will not be getting another facility from us, you can make sure of that.

I'm a good student. I get good grades. But I'm being punished, arranged to have the devil as my date.

Try to think positive. Maybe we won't even have to interact. Maybe he won't even show up! That would be the preferable option.

My brain keeps on rolling until we stop and my door is opened once again.

Let's get this over with.

The room is filled with extravagance, sparkling floors and centrepieces, chandeliers dangle from the ceiling and the air is filled with a concoction of perfumes and colognes.

Looking around the room, I start to relax. He isn't here.

Thank goodness.

I'm about to go and grab myself a drink when none other than the dean himself strolls right up to me.

"Miss Ha."

"Dean Percy."

"I see you have come alone."

"That I have."

"Did you arrive with Mr Drakos? Is he somewhere I cannot see?" He proceeds to scan the area.