Part 4 ( Ellie )

"Tell me why I have to go to this thing again?"

Anthony Vasquez smirks, leaning back in his seat like he's amused by my suffering. "Because, Crawford, it's the biggest event of the year, and your PR team will have an aneurysm if you don't show up."

I exhale sharply, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, well, I don't do tuxedos and small talk with rich assholes."

Anthony chuckles, sipping his whiskey. "You are a rich asshole."

I shoot him a dry look. "Exactly. I know how insufferable we can be."

He laughs, shaking his head. "Look, I get it. Masquerade balls aren't exactly your scene. But this isn't just some random charity gala. This is the event. Only the most powerful people in the world get invited. If you want to expand your brand outside of football, this is where you start."

I grunt, not convinced. "I already have offers lined up for post-retirement. Club ownership, brand deals, business investments—I don't need to schmooze my way into high society."

Anthony raises an eyebrow. "Maybe not. But you also don't turn down an invitation to something like this. You've been in the NFL long enough to know that power isn't just about skill on the field. It's about connections. You keep winning games, you stay relevant. You make the right connections, you stay powerful."

I sigh, swirling the amber liquid in my glass before taking a slow sip. "I hate when you make sense."

He smirks. "It's my job."

I glance at the invitation sitting on the table between us, black and gold, elegant, with an embossed crest I don't recognize. The location is undisclosed, with only a single instruction: Your mask will be waiting upon arrival.

"Tell me at least they'll have good liquor," I mutter, grabbing the card and flipping it over.

Anthony grins. "Crawford, this is the kind of event where the champagne costs more than your Porsche."

I exhale through my nose. "Figures."

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Look, I know this isn't your thing. But trust me, you'll want to be there. The kind of people who run this world? They'll all be in that ballroom. Celebrities, CEOs, royalty—hell, even politicians who pretend they don't mix with our crowd. It's exclusive, and it's a power play just to be in the room."

I raise an eyebrow. "And you? What's your reason for going?"

Anthony smirks, shrugging. "Business. There's a luxury deal I want to secure, and these kinds of events are where deals get made behind closed doors. Plus, I enjoy watching people pretend they're better than everyone else while they get drunk off champagne."

I shake my head, chuckling. "Rich people are weird."

"Says the multimillionaire football star."

I roll my eyes, finishing off my drink. "Fine. I'll go. But if it turns out to be a bunch of pretentious assholes in overpriced masks, I'm leaving early."

Anthony grins. "Trust me, Crawford. This is one night you won't want to leave early."

I shoot him a look, but he just smirks like he knows something I don't.

I sigh, rubbing a hand down my face. "Alright. What the hell am I even supposed to wear to this thing?"

Anthony leans back, smug as ever. "Don't worry. I already had something tailored for you."

I narrow my eyes. "You what?"

"Relax," he says, clearly enjoying this way too much. "You can't show up looking like you just walked off the field. You're one of the biggest names in football. You need to look the part."

I groan. "God, I hate this already."

Anthony laughs, raising his glass. "Welcome to the world of the elite, Crawford. Just try not to punch anyone."

I smirk. "No promises."

-

I push off the couch, following Anthony toward the door. His easy confidence never wavers, even as he adjusts his suit jacket, the same smug expression on his face that tells me he thinks he's won this argument.

"You'll thank me later, Crawford," he says, glancing over his shoulder.

I grunt. "Doubt it."

Anthony just smirks, stepping through the threshold. But before he can fully leave, I spot Bella on the other side of the door.

She's standing there, one hand raised like she was about to knock, her manicured nails gleaming under the soft glow of the entrance lights. Her head tilts slightly when she sees Anthony, curiosity flickering across her features.

Anthony, never one to miss an opportunity, flashes his signature charming grin. "And who do we have here?"

Bella's lips curve into a small, knowing smirk. "Hi, i'm Bella, Ellie's girlfriend."

Anthony chuckles, giving me an amused look. "Well, aren't you full of surprises, Crawford."

I roll my eyes, nudging him toward the door. "Go home, Vasquez."

He laughs but steps out, offering Bella a polite nod. "Nice to meet you, Bella. Take care of this one—she's grumpier than she looks."

Bella raises an eyebrow, stepping inside as I close the door behind him. "That your business friend?"

"Yeah," I say, moving past her toward the living room. "He thinks I need to play nice with billionaires and attend fancy events."

Bella follows, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood. "And he's right."

I throw her a look over my shoulder. "Not you too."

She just smirks, sinking onto the couch. "I mean, let's be honest. You're rich, famous, and successful. You're already in their circle, Ellie. Might as well embrace it."

I sigh, running a hand down my face before sitting down beside her. "I don't know, B. It's not really my scene."

Bella leans back, crossing her legs. "But you're still going, right?"

I exhale, nodding. "Yeah. Apparently, it's one of those events you have to attend."

She hums, watching me for a moment. "So why do you look like you'd rather be getting tackled on the field than stepping into a ballroom?"

I huff a quiet laugh, shaking my head. "Because I probably would."

Bella smirks, reaching out to grab my hand. Her fingers slide through mine, a casual, effortless gesture. "You'll survive. Besides, you clean up well. I wouldn't mind seeing you in a tux."

I glance at her, a slow grin tugging at my lips. "That so?"

"Mhm," she murmurs, squeezing my hand. "Could be a fun night."

I hesitate for a moment, considering my next words. Then, I tighten my grip on her fingers, lifting them slightly. "Come with me."

Bella blinks. "What?"

I shift on the couch so I'm fully facing her. "Come with me to the masquerade ball. If I have to suffer through it, at least I'll have you there."

She tilts her head, her smirk widening. "Is this you officially inviting me to a fancy, exclusive event?"

I chuckle, squeezing her hand. "Yeah. You in?"

Bella doesn't answer right away. She studies me, amusement flickering in her dark eyes before she finally hums, pretending to think. "Depends."

I raise a brow. "On what?"

Her smirk grows. "What's in it for me?"

I scoff. "Seriously?"

She shrugs, toying with my fingers. "I mean, I don't just accept invitations from anyone."

I huff, rolling my eyes. "Bella, you're literally my girlfriend."

"And yet, I still require persuasion," she teases.

I shake my head, grinning. "Fine. You come with me, and I promise we'll make a night out of it. You get to dress up, drink overpriced champagne, and watch me suffer through awkward conversations with rich people."

Bella hums again, tapping a manicured nail against my hand. "Throw in a slow dance, and I'll consider it."

I smirk. "Done."

She laughs, shifting closer. "Alright then, Crawford. I guess I'm going to a masquerade ball."

I exhale, relieved. At least I won't have to deal with the event completely alone.

She lifts our joined hands and kisses my knuckles. "What's the dress code?"

"Ridiculous wealth," I say dryly.

Bella grins. "My specialty."

I shake my head and kiss her lips, chuckling, but a part of me is already preparing for what's to come. I don't know why, but something about this event feels... different.

I brush the thought aside and focus on the woman in front of me.

-

I lean against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as I watch Bella move around like she owns the place. She's in one of my t-shirts, slightly oversized on her, her hair tied back in a messy bun. She hums to herself as she chops vegetables with the kind of ease that tells me she's done this a million times.

"You know," I say, smirking slightly, "I could just order something."

Bella scoffs without looking up. "And let you survive on takeout and protein shakes? No thanks."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "I don't survive on protein shakes."

She raises a brow, finally glancing at me. "Ellie. The last time I checked your fridge, all I found was Gatorade, eggs, and some questionable-looking leftovers."

I hold up a finger. "Hey, those were perfectly fine leftovers."

Bella snorts, returning to her chopping. "Sure they were."

I push off the counter, wandering closer, peeking over her shoulder. "So what's on the menu, chef?"

She side-eyes me. "Grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and garlic mashed potatoes. Simple. Healthy. Something that won't clog your arteries."

I hum. "Sounds fancy."

She smirks. "Not really. But it's better than whatever garbage you were gonna eat."

I roll my eyes but don't argue. Instead, I snag a piece of carrot from the cutting board, popping it into my mouth. Bella swats at my hand, but she's smiling.

"You're the worst," she mutters.

I hum and kiss her cheeks.

A few minutes later, she plates our food, sliding a plate toward me before taking a seat at the dining table. I follow, sinking into the chair across from her, the smell of garlic and butter making my stomach growl.

Bella watches me expectantly as I take my first bite.

I chew, nodding. "Okay, damn. This is actually really good."

She smirks. "Of course it is. I know what I'm doing."

I shake my head, amused, and keep eating.

For a while, there's just comfortable silence, the occasional clink of silverware against plates. It's nice, this, just the two of us, no cameras, no noise, no distractions.

Bella eventually breaks the silence. "So, about the masquerade... What's the game plan?"

I shrug. "Show up, pretend to care, and hopefully get out before I die of boredom."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Fucking hell."

"You knew that when you signed up for this."

She smirks. "Unfortunately."

I chuckle, finishing the last bite of my food. "Thanks for this, by the way. You didn't have to cook."

Bella leans back in her chair, stretching her arms. "Yeah, well. Someone's gotta make sure you don't live off stadium food and overpriced smoothies."

I grin. "Guess I'm lucky then."

She tilts her head, eyes softening just a little. "Yeah. You are."

I hold her gaze for a moment before pushing my chair back. "Alright, you cooked, I'll clean."

Bella raises a brow. "Who are you, and what have you done with Ellie Crawford?"

I chuckle, picking up the plates. "Shut up."

She grins, watching as I carry the dishes to the sink.

It's simple. Easy. I let myself enjoy it.

-

I lean back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest while the other holds the remote, flipping through channels without much thought. Bella is curled up beside me, her head resting against my shoulder, scrolling through her phone. The soft sounds of the TV plays in the background, some sports analysts breaking down a game I only half-listen to.

My body is still sore from practice, and honestly, I wouldn't mind staying like this for the rest of the day. But just as I settle deeper into the cushions, the doorbell rings.

Bella groans beside me. "Tell me you're not expecting anyone."

I smirk. "Relax, it's probably just a package."

I push myself up with a grunt, stretching slightly before heading to the door. The second I pull it open, I'm met with a man dressed in an expensive black suit, standing in front of a black car parked on the curb.

Anthony works fast.

The chauffeur gives me a respectful nod. "Miss Crawford, your order has arrived."

He steps aside and gestures to two garment bags hanging neatly inside the car. The first one holds my suit, custom-tailored, and definitely more formal than anything I'd normally wear. The second is Bella's ball gown, something Anthony assured me would fit the event's theme perfectly.

I nod. "Appreciate it."

He hands me both bags carefully before stepping back. "Enjoy your evening, Miss Crawford."

With that, he gets back into the car and drives off, leaving me standing at the doorway with two ridiculously expensive outfits in my hands.

I shake my head, amused, and turn back inside. Bella is already sitting up, looking at me with curiosity.

"What's that?" she asks, setting her phone down.

I smirk, lifting the bags slightly. "Our outfits for tonight."

She raises a brow. "Wait, you got me something?"

"Technically, Anthony did," I admit, shutting the door behind me. "But yeah, figured you should have something that fits the whole masquerade vibe."

Her eyes light up slightly as she stands, making her way over. "You really went all out, huh?"

I shrug. "Gotta look the part."

She takes her bag from me, running her fingers over the fine material before unzipping it slightly to peek inside. A slow smile spreads across her lips. "Damn. I think this might be the most expensive thing I've ever owned."

I chuckle, unzipping my own bag to check out the suit. The suit is tailored to perfection, a dark charcoal-black with an iridescent sheen that catches the light, subtly shifting between deep purples and blacks. A matching vest, sharply cut and lined with deep plum, rests beneath the jacket, paired with a crisp black shirt and a sleek, silk tie in the same dark violet hue.

( something for your imaginations )

Bella steps closer, inspecting the suit with me. "This is actually kinda sexy."

I arch a brow at her. "Kinda?"

She grins, tugging at the lapel. "Okay, really sexy."

I huff a laugh, setting the suit down carefully over the back of the couch before turning back to her. "You wanna try yours on?"

She hesitates for a second before nodding. "Yeah, why not?"

She grabs the dress and heads toward the bedroom while I sit back down on the couch, arms spread over the cushions, waiting.

A few minutes later, Bella walks out of the room, and I let out a low whistle.

The dress is form-fitting in all the right ways, It's a deep, luxurious shade of purple, off-the-shoulder with delicate lace embroidery tracing the bodice, cascading down into a full, sweeping skirt. The fabric glimmers subtly under the soft lighting, regal and impossibly elegant, the fabric hugging her waist before flowing down in elegant waves. It's designed to be classic yet striking, and it suits her perfectly.

( something for your imaginations )

Bella does a little spin, smirking. "So? How do I look?"

I tilt my head, giving her a slow once-over before grinning. "Like you belong at the damn Met Gala."

She laughs, twirling again before stopping in front of me. "Not bad. I think I actually like it."

I smirk, leaning back. "Good. Now we just gotta survive the night."

She sits beside me again, adjusting the hem of the dress slightly. "You really hate these things, don't you?"

I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck. "They're not exactly my scene."

Bella nudges me. "At least I'll be there to keep you sane."

I glance at her, the corners of my lips twitching up slightly. "Yeah. That definitely helps."

She grins before playfully bumping her shoulder against mine. "Now, let's hope I don't trip over this dress."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "If you do, I promise I'll pretend not to see it."

She giggles and goes back to the guest room.

-

Bella smooths down the last of her dress, adjusting the delicate lace along the bodice. I watch her from where I stand, leaning against the doorframe, already dressed and ready to go, but unable to tear my eyes away from her.

"You good?" she asks, catching me staring again.

I smirk. "Yeah. Just enjoying the view."

She rolls her eyes, but there's a soft flush dusting her cheeks. She steps closer, reaching up to straighten my tie, her fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary. "You're really feeling yourself in this suit, huh?"

I hum, tilting my head slightly. "Not as much as I'm feeling you in that dress."

Her lips twitch, amusement flickering in her gaze. "Smooth, El."

"Always."

She shakes her head but doesn't pull away, her fingers trailing up to my collar before she tugs me down slightly. I let her, my hands finding her waist as she leans in, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to my lips.

I inhale sharply, gripping her a little tighter. The scent of her perfume, warm lavender fills my senses.

Bella pulls back just enough to whisper, "You're gonna behave at this thing, right?"

I smirk against her lips. "No promises."

She chuckles, pressing another quick kiss to the corner of my mouth before stepping away. "Come on, let's get going before we end up missing this entirely."

I groan, running a hand through my hair. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

Bella laughs, grabbing her clutch and heading toward the door. "Yes. Now move your ass."

I sigh dramatically but follow her out, catching her hand as we step into the cool night air.

Before she can open the car door, I pull her back toward me, tilting her chin up with my fingers. "One more," I murmur.

She raises an eyebrow. "One more what?"

I smirk before capturing her lips again, slower this time, my thumb brushing over her jaw as I deepen the kiss just slightly. Bella exhales softly against me, her fingers curling into the lapels of my suit.

When I finally pull back, she's looking at me with that mix of amusement and something softer, something that makes my chest feel lighter.

"Okay," she breathes. "Maybe I can tolerate this event if you keep that up."

I grin, lacing our fingers together as I open the car door for her. "Deal."

As we slide into the backseat, heading toward the masquerade, Bella leans in again, pressing a quick kiss to my jaw before settling against my side.

Yeah. Maybe tonight won't be so bad after all.