Breaking Friend Zone

Chapter 1: Party

A/N: First and for all, I would like to warn everyone that this story will be posted unedited. Drilled with different types of errors, so please just overlook it, and take your hates somewhere. I think I deserve at least some respect.
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"I go wherever the wind blows... or the river flows... or wherever Alexander is out of sight ..." - Clara Bell

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Clara Bell's POV

"We are here, milady," A stiff-voiced snapped me out of my train of thoughts. I bolted sat upright and looked out the limo's tinted window.

I've been dreading not to come to Claire's party since I knew I'm going to see that ass, I mean Alexander James Demakis. I'm a hypocrite if I'll deny his strong charisma. He is like a flame, and these women are like a moth, and I hate the fact that I'm turning into one of them.

After that stolen kiss, I've been trying hard to avoid him, but tonight on Claire's birthday, I have no excuse not to attend. She's one of my closest friends aside from Victoria Pallos, which was miles away.

They were like my sisters.

The security who were ordered by my overprotective father, Rafael Alejandro Valiente, stood on the side of the opened door with an outstretched arm.

I'm wearing a deadly shoe, a sky-high Christian Louboutin 5-inches Top Vague. I hate being treated like a princess, but tonight, I needed some help to avoid tripping over and land on my face. That would be very embarrassing.

And as I thought, paparazzi were waiting at the front door of the luxurious building.

I smiled sweetly at him and accepted his hand, then mindfully stepping on the concrete ground. The heel of my sophisticated Lace Leather stiletto —detailed with embedded crystals and a scalloped vamp, with the Christian Louboutin's signature red sole— hit the floor, and as the other heel connected to the floor, it made a sweet sexy sound.

Planting myself in the ground facing the facade of the luxurious building right in the middle of Manhattan, I gently and gracefully pulled my hand back from Clinton's hold, and he tipped his head slightly and stepped back.

"Thank you, Clinton," I smiled.

Flashes of camera welcomed me. My securities quickly blocked them before they could reach me.

Before I made my way to the entrance door, I pulled my chiffon dress lower, fixing my white low-back, flowy dress that passed mid thigh, then held my red clutch with my right hand.

I ignored the pleas of the paparazzi. Tipping my chin up, I strutted towards the wide entrance door. Clinton vigorously planted himself in front of the massive doors and swung it open.