Part 9 ( Juliet )

The champagne still lingers on my tongue as I lower my glass, my mask concealing the flicker of thoughts running through my mind.

The toast was flawless. The ball is flawless. Everything is as it should be.

I should be satisfied.

I should be basking in the perfection of this night, in the seamless execution of an event that took months of planning, in the fact that every person in this room is here because of me.

But my jaw tightens, my fingers gripping the delicate stem of my flute just a little too hard. Because as I turn slightly, exchanging pleasantries with some tech CEO whose name I barely register, I catch a glimpse of them.

Ellie and Bella.

They're across the room, wrapped in golden light, the edges of their silhouettes blurred by the champagne haze of the ballroom. Bella leans into Ellie, her fingers curling around Ellie's wrist as she whispers something in her ear. Ellie huffs out a laugh, her usual smirk curling at the corner of her mouth, the one that's always been equal parts cocky and effortlessly charming. The kind of smirk that used to belong to me.

I despise it.

The sight of them. The ease between them. The way Ellie stands close, comfortable, like Bella is something safe, something certain. The way Bella's eyes shine when she looks at her.

I despise it.

A part of me envies it even. It coils in my stomach, an unfamiliar, unwelcome sensation.

It shouldn't matter. It doesn't matter.

I force myself to shift my attention back to the man in front of me, the one droning on about market projections and expansion strategies, his voice dull beneath the weight pressing against my ribs. I nod at the right moments. Offer the correct responses. My face remains composed, my mask never slipping, but a part of me, one I thought I buried long ago, feels like it's unraveling at the edges.

I exhale, slow and steady, and offer the CEO in front of me a poised, practiced smile. "You'll have to excuse me. There's something I need to take care of."

He nods quickly, stepping back with some polite farewell, but I barely register it. My feet move before I can think, carrying me toward the balcony doors.

Away.

Away from the realization that, for all the power I hold in this room, I have never felt more powerless than I do in this moment.

I step outside, into the cool night air, my breath leaving me in a quiet, controlled exhale.

I close my eyes for half a second.

Without meaning to, I think about Ellie.

Ellie, standing in that ballroom with someone else. Ellie, looking happy. Ellie, moving on.

I inhale sharply, forcing the thought away, forcing the past where it belongs.

This doesn't matter. None of it matters.

I remind myself of that.

And yet, as the cold air brushes against my skin, I wonder why the lie doesn't feel convincing anymore.

-

The night is winding down. The grand ballroom, once brimming with energy, has begun to empty, the conversations fading into something quieter, more subdued.

I stand near the entrance, poised, collected, the perfect host until the very last guest has left.

With a champagne flute delicately cradled in one hand, I offer polite smiles, effortless farewells, murmured goodbyes to those who were privileged enough to attend. Some are still eager to linger, their hands warm as they shake mine, their words laced with veiled flattery, attempts at securing future business. Others leave quickly, a flash of masks and couture as they disappear into the night.

Each farewell is rehearsed, automatic, smooth.

I spot Mia before she reaches me, moving through the dwindling crowd with Aiden by her side. She's ditched her mask, her dark hair slightly tousled from the night, her black gown still flawless but now carrying the ease of someone no longer performing for the event. Aiden is relaxed beside her, his tuxedo jacket unbuttoned, the deep red of his vest standing out against the crisp black and white.

As they approach, Mia lifts a brow, her usual smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Ah, Still standing."

I offer a light scoff, tilting my chin slightly. "Obviously."

Mia hums, feigning thought. "I don't know, Baldwin. Even you have your limits."

Aiden shakes his head, amused. "She's been going all night, Mia. You think she's just going to drop dead before she sees this through?"

I exhale, a small, knowing smirk forming as I glance between them. "Exactly. Someone has to ensure the night ends as flawlessly as it began."

"Enjoyed yourself?" I ask Mia.

Mia smirks. "As much as one can when surrounded by the elite and powerful." She gestures vaguely to the remaining guests trickling out. "But you already knew that."

I hum, my gaze flickering to Aiden, who watches the exchange with quiet amusement. "And you? How was your evening?"

He shrugs. "Good. Fancy as hell. Expensive drinks. Mia got to drag me around, so she was happy."

Mia nudges his arm. "Oh, please. You love when I drag you around."

He grins. "Wouldn't be here otherwise."

I shake my head, something almost resembling amusement stirring in my chest.

Mia watches me for a second longer before exhaling, her smirk softening just slightly. "Well, we're heading out. Unlike you, I actually plan on sleeping before sunrise."

Aiden huffs a quiet laugh, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, some of us don't function purely on control and ambition."

I arch a brow, unimpressed.

Mia rolls her eyes. "Enjoy your perfection, Baldwin." She steps closer, lowering her voice just slightly. "Try not to drown in it."

I meet her gaze, a silent conversation passing between us.

She knows me too well.

A second of silence, and then she steps back, slipping her arm through Aiden's.

"Goodnight, Juliet," Aiden says with a nod.

I incline my head. "Goodnight."

Mia gives me one last look, her smirk lingering, before turning toward the exit.

The last stretch of guests filters out, their expensive colognes and perfumes lingering in the air as they bid their final goodbyes. I remain by the entrance, my expression composed, a glass of untouched champagne still in my hand. The weight of the night settles into my spine, but I don't let it show.

One after another, I offer polite smiles, firm handshakes, effortless farewells.

"Wonderful event, Ms. Baldwin."

"An honor to attend."

"Let's schedule a meeting soon."

The same words, the same smiles, the same expectations. I nod, I murmur, I watch them leave.

And then, just when I think I've made it through the worst of the night, I glance up.

Ellie. Bella. Anthony.

They approach together, a trio of contrasting energies. Anthony looks at ease, his usual smirk firmly in place, the picture of effortless charm. Bella walks beside him, still glowing from the night, her hand looped comfortably through Ellie's arm. And Ellie, Ellie moves with her usual steadiness, but there's something else there, something sharper beneath the surface.

My fingers tighten slightly around the stem of my glass.

"Well," Anthony drawls, stepping forward first, "I have to admit, you put on quite the show. Should've known you'd make high society look like an art form."

I offer him a smooth smile. "Did you doubt me?"

He grins. "Not for a second."

Bella is the next to speak, her voice warm, genuine. "This was incredible, really. I've been to a lot of these events, but nothing quite like this. You have an eye for perfection."

"That's the goal." I reply evenly.

Ellie says nothing.

She stands slightly behind Bella, she looks at me, brief, flickering, like she's not sure if she should be looking at all.

I don't give her the chance to figure it out.

Instead, I shift my attention back to Bella, my mask firmly in place. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I did," Bella confirms, her grip tightening on Ellie's arm. "We both did."

A pause. A beat too long.

Ellie exhales through her nose, and when she speaks, her voice is level, even. "It was a good night."

Something about the way she says it makes my stomach twist, but I ignore it. I nod. "Good."

Anthony, sensing something unspoken, steps in with a grin. "We won't take up any more of your time, Baldwin. You've had a long night playing host."

"That I have." I agree smoothly.

Bella offers me one last smile. "It was nice meeting you, Juliet."

My lips curve, polite. "Likewise."

Then, Bella shifts, turning slightly toward Ellie, guiding her toward the exit.

Ellie lingers. Only for a second. Only for the span of a single breath.

Without another word, she turns too. Anthony follows, his hands in his pockets, his usual smirk still intact.

I watch them leave.

-

The grand ballroom is nearly empty now, save for the staff moving swiftly to begin cleanup. Champagne flutes are gathered, table linens are lifted, remnants of the night fading under efficient hands. The music has long since stopped, and what remains is the quiet murmur of conversations between employees and the faint rustling of fabric being folded away.

I smooth my hand over the bodice of my gown, straightening, regaining the final threads of composure before turning to the waiting staff. My voice is measured, sharp but not unkind, directives spoken with the certainty of someone who expects to be obeyed.

"Make sure all the glassware is counted before being stored."

"The floral arrangements are to be donated, not discarded."

"Confirm that security oversees the final sweep of the premises before locking up."

"Anything left behind by guests is to be cataloged and delivered to their residences by morning."

Nods of acknowledgment follow each instruction, the staff moving with the efficiency I trained them for.

One of my senior event coordinators steps forward, clipboard in hand. "Shall I oversee the final walkthrough, Ms. Baldwin?"

I nod once. "Yes. And forward me the full report by noon."

"Yes, ma'am."

I take one last look at the ballroom, the space where, hours ago, the elite of this city had mingled, laughed, schemed, and indulged. Now, it is just a room again. Opulent, extravagant, but empty.

Like a stage after the final curtain call.

With that, I turn on my heel and make my way toward the exit, my gown whispering against the marble as I move.

By the time I step outside, My chauffeur is already waiting. He stands by the black limousine, dressed in his usual polished uniform, posture straight as he opens the door for me without a word.

"Ms. Baldwin," he greets with a respectful nod.

I step inside, sinking into the cool leather interior. The moment the door shuts, silence envelops me.

The city glows beyond the tinted windows, streetlights casting long shadows against the pavement, skyscrapers stretching into the sky. A world still moving, still breathing, even as my night ends. I exhale, pressing my fingers to my temple.

A long night.

One I should be satisfied with. One I should not still be thinking about.

The car roars to life, gliding smoothly into the streets. I lean back against the seat, letting my eyes slip shut for just a moment.

Just long enough to forget, even briefly, the ghost of a presence that lingers in my chest.

The city fades as the limousine pulls into the private driveway of my building. The driver steps out immediately, opening the door for me. I step onto the cool pavement, my heels clicking softly against the ground.

"Goodnight, Ms. Baldwin," he says, dipping his head as I move past him.

"Goodnight, Rodrick." I nod once before entering the building, the weight of the evening pressing into my shoulders. The elevator ride is silent, the soft glow of the lights casting shadows along the polished walls. When the doors slide open to my penthouse, I step inside without hesitation.

Home.

The space is dark, save for the ambient city glow filtering through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. I don't bother turning on the lights. I slip off my heels first, leaving them abandoned near the entrance before making my way through the penthouse. My body aches, subtly, persistently, a dull reminder of the weight of the night.

The bedroom is cool, the silk sheets neatly untouched. I walk straight to my vanity, fingers moving on instinct as I remove the heavy earrings first, then the diamond necklace. They clink softly as I place them on the marble surface.

The mirror stares back at me, and for a moment, I hesitate.

Red lips. Smoky eyeshadow. The mask may be gone, but the remnants of Juliet Baldwin, the persona, still linger in the reflection.

I reach for the makeup remover, swiping the cotton pad against my skin. The foundation fades. The perfect contours soften. The shadows around my eyes disappear. One layer at a time, I strip the night away.

By the time I finish, my skin is bare, clean, refreshed, but exhaustion lingers beneath my eyes.

I move through the motions of my skincare routine without thinking, each step memorized, automatic. Cleanser, toner, serum, moisturizer. The cool creams soothe my skin, but they do nothing for the fatigue clinging to my bones.

After slipping into my silk pajamas, black, simple, soft against my skin, I exhale.

Just another night.

Just another event.

Just another day.

I tell myself that, repeating the words in my head as I pull back the sheets and slip beneath them. The fabric is cool against my skin, the pillows perfectly arranged, the weight of the blankets familiar.

But even as I settle in, as I close my eyes, my mind doesn't quite empty the way I want it to.

I force myself to push everything away. The night, the ball, the people.

The memories.

The exhaustion wins before my thoughts do. Sleep pulls me under, quiet and deep.

Tomorrow, the world will start again.

And so will I.

•Author's note

I decided to post every 10 parts. Here are the first 10.