Chapter 138

Ava's POV

I couldn't decide if I felt more relief or anger—or perhaps a confusing mix of both churning inside me. My thoughts were a tangled mess as I tried to pin my hair in place and finish getting ready for the ball, just minutes away. First, he'd lied to me; then he went to Italy. He lied about it again, went missing, and now, even after being found, he wasn't coming home immediately. To make matters worse, he refused to take my calls.

Since the rescue team found him and Rickon, Grayson had blatantly avoided me. The silence was maddening, and my mind spun, trying to figure out why. What was going on?

The click of Isabella's heels snapped me from my thoughts. "Fussing won't get you answers, Lilian," she said, her tone firm yet sympathetic. "Believe me, I want to know what those two idiots are up to as much as you do, but it won't change anything tonight."

I sighed, dropping my hair clip onto the vanity. "Then what am I supposed to do, Bels?"

Isabella walked over, picked up the clip, and carefully pinned it in place. Standing behind me, her hands steady as she adjusted my hair, she said calmly, "What you're going to do is get through this ball. You'll prove to your parents you're no longer their puppet, and then—" she paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she met my gaze in the mirror—"we'll use Grayson's black card to book two flights to Italy."

Despite myself, I smiled. "You're serious?"

She smirked. "Dead serious. But first, you'll host the best goddess-damned ball the Pierces have ever seen." She raised my chin. "And you'll look like the most beautiful woman in the world doing it."

I squeezed her hand, smiling wider. "Thanks, Bels."

She stepped back, nodding. "Now, you know what time it is."

I laughed, a real laugh this time, and stood. This was our tradition, our ritual before any big event. Isabella and I always did a full outfit check.

I spun slowly, arms outstretched. "Well? Thoughts?"

Isabella tilted her head, scrutinizing my emerald gown. The fabric hugged my waist perfectly, flowing into an elegant cascade that brushed the floor. The neckline was modest yet striking, with intricate lacework adding sophistication. My hair was swept up into an elegant chignon, with soft curls framing my face.

"You look stunning," Isabella said with a grin. "That dress is a showstopper. Hair? Makeup? You're perfect."

I rolled my eyes but smiled. "Your turn."

She stepped back, twirling. Isabella's crimson gown was bold and dramatic, with a high slit showcasing her long legs and a plunging neckline that suited her perfectly. Her dark curls were pinned to one side, cascading over her shoulder.

"Goddess above, Bels, you look incredible," I said, laughing. "You'll turn every head."

"That's the plan," she said with a wink.

With a final nod, Isabella and I linked arms and left the room, heading toward the grand hall for a final check before the guests arrived.

"Do you think we missed anything?" Isabella asked as we walked briskly through the corridor.

I shook my head, more to reassure myself than her. "We've gone over everything twice. It'll be fine."

"Yeah, but your mother's coming," she said, giving me a pointed look.

I sighed. "Tonight, I'm focusing on the ball, not anyone's criticism."

As we entered the grand hall, its scale stole my breath. The Omegas had outdone themselves. The room shimmered with soft gold and silver hues, the chandeliers casting warm light across the polished floors. Tables were draped in rich fabrics, and floral arrangements decorated every corner.

"Wow," Isabella whispered.

"Yeah. They really pulled it off," I murmured.

"Okay, Miss Hostess, let's hope the guests are as impressed as we are," she said with a smirk.

"They'd better be," I muttered.

Just as we turned to inspect the table settings, I heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking behind us. My stomach dropped. The first guests had arrived. And, of course, it was my parents.

I squared my shoulders, forcing myself to stay calm. I couldn't let their presence ruin this night. Pushing thoughts of Grayson from my mind, I reminded myself of my etiquette lessons. Hostess mode: on.

"Here we go," I muttered, plastering a polite smile on my face as I approached them.

My mother's sharp gaze swept across the room. I braced myself for criticism, expecting a comment about something being gaudy or out of place.

But her voice was soft, almost surprised. "This is… actually quite beautiful."

I blinked, caught off guard.

Then my father's eyes landed on me. His gaze swept over my dress before he gave a small nod.

"And that is a beautiful dress," he said, his tone measured but strangely approving.

I stood dumbfounded, unsure how to react. My parents had never openly complimented anything I'd done.

Before I could speak, my father took my mother's arm, and they walked past me, as if this were normal.

"What… just happened?" I muttered, watching them go.

Isabella sidled up beside me, her expression a mix of confusion and amusement. "I think your parents just… approved of something. Are you okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

"I might," I said, still processing.

But there was no time to dwell on it. More guests arrived, their voices filling the hall. With a deep breath, I straightened my posture and stepped into my role. This night wasn't about my parents, Grayson, or anything else.

I was beginning to think I was actually pulling this off. Smiling, greeting guests, and working the room with more ease than I thought possible. Compliments poured in, and for once, I felt like I was standing on steady ground.

Between mingling, I slipped over to Eliza and Isabella. Eliza was fussing over her champagne, while Isabella gave her a knowing look.

"You're doing great," Isabella whispered with a grin.

"Thanks," I replied, grateful. "But it's not over yet."

Just then, I heard a familiar voice behind me, deep and laced with mischief.

"Well, looks like my little dove isn't so little anymore."

I turned with a laugh, my heart warming. "Uncle Damien!" I exclaimed, hugging him. "I'm so glad you could make it."

He smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. "I wouldn't miss your first ball for the world, Ava," he said, kissing my cheek. His gaze lingered. "You really look like her, you know. It's a wonder you can't see it."

I laughed. "I don't think Evelyn Pierce would appreciate you saying I'm stealing her looks."

"Of course," he replied, his tone light but his eyes flashing with something I couldn't place. Then he smiled, softer. "Speaking of which…"

I nodded, understanding. "They're over there," I said, gesturing toward my parents. To my surprise, my mother still smiled faintly, and my father was engaged in pleasant conversation.

Uncle Damien's gaze followed mine, his expression unreadable. "Well, then," he said, nodding slightly before making his way toward them.

As I watched him, I thought how smoothly the night was going. Maybe I was actually going to pull this off.

But the universe had other plans.

The hum of conversation abruptly shifted. Heads turned toward the grand entrance, and murmurs coursed through the room.

I followed their gazes, my stomach sinking. Elsine, Monica, and Crystal had just entered, and they were impossible to miss.

Elsine wore a red gown so tight it looked painted on, with a dangerously high slit. Monica wore an emerald dress that left little to the imagination, her back bare and her neckline plunging low. Crystal, slightly more covered due to her baby bump, wore a form-fitting black, off-the-shoulder gown.

My jaw tightened as I watched them saunter in as if they owned the place. They were half-naked at my ball.

Before I could process why they were here, I felt the air shift again. The murmurs grew louder, and a new wave of attention focused on the doorway. Someone else had entered behind them.

My wolf growled.

My eyes snapped to the figure stepping into the hall, and our eyes locked instantly. Dylan grinned, an infuriating, smug smile that made my blood boil.

My eyes narrowed, and my wolf growled again, louder this time. In that moment, I completely agreed with her… blood was about to flow.