Ash's POV
If I had said no that night, maybe I wouldn't have blood on my hands.
And maybe none of this would've happened.
The blood.
The rooftop.
The body.
The humiliation.
But that night, I chose money over instincts. And now someone's dead.
But saying no isn't really an option when your mom can't breathe without help, and your little sister still believes you're the kind of person who can fix anything.
The coughing started around sunset. Dry broken coughs from the other room. I rushed in with a cup of lukewarm peppermint tea and sat beside her on the worn couch, rubbing her back as she doubled over. She hadn't eaten all day. Again.
I pressed a damp cloth to my mom's forehead. She was burning up. Her skin felt paper-thin.
"Mom, you need to let the doctor come," I whispered, adjusting the oxygen tank we'd refilled a week ago with borrowed money.
She shook her head, too tired to argue out loud. The apartment smelled like menthol and rice water. We'd tried to air it out, but nothing really hides poverty.
"Ash," came a small voice. "She okay?"
My sister, Alia, stood barefoot in her pajamas, clutching the stuffed panda I got her last Christmas and a popsicle stick on her other arm. She was eight but talked and thought like she was older. Like if she said the wrong thing, the world might break.
"She's okay," I lied, brushing her curls from her forehead.
Then my phone buzzed.
Boss-6:55
Job tonight. Mansion gig. High pay. Need you. One of the servers bailed. URGENT.
I stared at the screen, then sighed. I had already told him I wasn't working tonight.
"Are you leaving again?" Alia whispered.
"I wasn't planning to," I said, honestly. "I'm staying home tonight."
That was the plan…until my phone buzzed again. Third time in ten minutes.
Boss - 7:04PM:
"Ash, come on. Please. One of the guys bailed. I'm begging you."
Boss - 7:05PM:
"Good money tonight. Fancy crowd. Just pour drinks and keep your head down."
June peeked her head into the living room, glasses foggy from the kitchen steam. "You should go."
June, My best friend since middle school. The only reason I ever get through days like this.
"I can't," I muttered. "Not tonight. Not like this."
"You're behind on rent," she said, pulling off her apron and setting down the tray of soup she made.
"I can take care of them," she said, adjusting her broken glasses in her nose. "She'll be okay. We'll be okay. Go get that paycheck, Ash. You can be back by midnight, right?"
"June—"
She raised her hand. "Go, Ash."
Alia looked up at me with wet eyes and grabbed my hands. "No. Please don't go. Please stay."
That almost broke me.
But the fridge was empty. The heating bill was overdue. Mom's meds weren't cheap, and my other best friend, Marcus, already covered lunch for all three of us this week. Again.
I kissed Alia's forehead and smiled. "I'll be back before you fall asleep. Promise."
I grabbed my black shirt and made my way out.
The party was at a house that looked like it had its own timezone
Honestly, this wasn't a house.
It was a damn palace.
Three stories of white marble, huge gates, gold-framed windows, and lights brighter than daylight. Music thundered from giant speakers near the pool.
You could fit our entire apartment into their driveway…twice.
I clutched the serving tray in my hands and walked in through the side entrance like the boss told me. "Stick to the shadows," he said. "Don't talk to the guests.."
Inside, it was chaos.
Loud music. Bare skin. People my age and younger wrapped around each other, smoking things I couldn't name and drinking stuff that smelled like expensive poison. Half of them were in a huge pool. Some weren't even dressed. I looked away too fast and nearly tripped over a champagne bottle.
This wasn't just any party. I saw a group laughing near the fireplace, and I recognized one of them.
Then two.
Then four.
Then Six.
They called themselves the Glass Circle….Blackwell Academy's golden kids.
Of course it was them.
The brats who ruled the school hallways like they owned the air we breathed. Designer shoes, unlimited credit, perfect hair and venom in their mouths.
They didn't know me. Not really.
I was the invisible one….the scholarship kid who sat in the back with June and Marcus. The one they laughed at in whispers. The one they called "charity case" behind fake smiles.
And now I was in their house. Serving their drinks.
I started recognizing more faces…this was definitely a Blackwell party, no way. Which meant one of them rich brats was throwing it.
"Of course it's his party," a girl near the bar giggled. "Dominic Vale throws the best parties. His dad's never home, and his mom's probably sedated somewhere in Italy."
Someone else snorted. "God complex looks good on him, though."
I didn't even need to look to know they were talking about him.
Dominic Vale.
Blackwell Academy's devil in designer clothing. The kind of boy who didn't walk…he prowled.. Lacrosse captain. Heir to some luxury car empire. His name alone made teachers smile, girls tremble, and boys scared.
He had tattoos wrapped around his fingers, curling up his neck and disappearing into the collar of his half-unbuttoned shirt.
He was tall. Always dressed like he rolled out of a high-end fashion ad and into a fight. And those eyes? Those blue cold eyes. Like winter storm kind of cold. Like he saw everything…and cared about none of it.
They called him the golden boy.
But everyone who knew better?
Called him the devil.
Rumor said his family owned half the city….and the other half owed them favors.
He wasn't just popular.
He ruled Blackwell.
Head of the Glass Circle…an exclusive clique of perfect, poisonous kids who moved through the school like royalty. They weren't just feared. They were adored. The kind of people who didn't get punished even when they broke the rules.
And now, I was working his party. Great.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Shit. June. It had to be her.
I awkwardly shifted the tray in one hand and fished my phone out with the other, I was nervous, glancing down at the screen. I was praying this wasn't an emergency with Mom or Alia.
June - 9:14PM
Everything okay here. She's sleeping now. Alia's still grumpy tho. You okay?
I exhaled, thumb hovering over the screen to reply.
But then…
Someone bumped into me. Too fast, knocking my elbow just enough to…..
CLINK
SPLASH.
I froze.
The tray tilted hard. Glasses clattered. Cold liquid spilled down the front of my shirt and all over the other guy's.
I looked down. Then up.
And that's when my stomach dropped.
Because standing in front of me, his white shirt stained with sticky pink cocktail and those stormy blue eyes already locked on me like I'd committed treason.
It was him.
Dominic Vale.