𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 ( 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧) 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭

...🫀...

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊

𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕

𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐬, 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

Brooklyn was quiet on Sunday mornings, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by a serene calm. I relished these early runs, a time to clear my mind and feel free, if only for a little while.

I stopped before my dad's boxing gym, breathing heavily as I pulled open the door and stepped inside. The familiar scent of sweat and leather greeted me. I grabbed a rag to wipe off the sweat from my face and neck, then headed to my dad's office. My water bottle sat in the mini fridge, and I eagerly reached for it.

Turning around, I stopped short.

Isabella stood in the doorway, looking slightly out of place in her designer blue blouse and skirt amidst the worn gym equipment. Her outfit's sharp lines and rich fabric clashed with the rugged, sweat-stained environment.

"Isabella?" I asked, surprise evident in my voice.

"You never told me your dad was the Benjamin Gray," she said, a hint of awe in her voice.

I set my water bottle down on my dad's desk. "You follow boxing?"

She nodded, her eyes dropping to her feet. "I used to watch it with my dad...before he died."

The air grew heavy with her words.

"Anyway," she said, shaking off the moment, "since we're friends..."

"Okay?" I prompted, unsure where this was going.

"I need a plus one for this brunch. Bart Bass is hosting it for his foundation," she explained.

I cocked my head, skepticism creeping in. "Why me?"

"Because my brother will be there with his friends, and to be honest, his friends are..."

"Assholes," I finished for her, a smirk tugging at my lips.

"That's putting it kindly," she agreed, laughing.

I chuckled, feeling the tension ease slightly. "So, will you go?" she asked, hope lighting up her eyes.

I hesitated. "I don't know...I'm supposed to answer the phones for my dad today."

"Oh," she said, disappointment clear in her tone.

"I've got it covered," my dad's voice cut in. My eyes widened as he walked into his office, brushing past Isabella to sit behind his desk. "Go, honey."

I turned to Isabella, then looked down at my sweat-drenched clothes. "I don't have anything to wear."

Isabella's face lit up with a mischievous grin as she grabbed my hand. "Oh, I've got just the thing."

She practically dragged me out of the office. I glanced back at my dad, who waved me off with a smile.

What did I get myself into?

...🫀...

Isabella pulled me into the limo, her excitement evident. The car started speeding through the streets of Brooklyn, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

I had no idea what to expect.

When we reached her place, my eyes widened at the sight of the mansion.

Tall, wrought-iron gates loomed ahead, flanked by stone pillars with ornate lanterns. Bodyguards stood at attention, their eyes scanning every movement with military precision. A butler opened the car door, and I stepped out, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

The mansion was a sprawling estate, its facade blending classical architecture and modern luxury. Marble columns framed the entrance, and a grand staircase led to massive wooden doors. Maids flitted about the grounds, tending to immaculate gardens and manicured lawns. Isabella walked confidently ahead, unbothered by the spectacle.

Inside, the high ceilings were adorned with crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors gleamed under soft lighting, and walls were lined with priceless artwork. The air was filled with the subtle scent of fresh flowers, meticulously arranged in every corner.

Isabella led me up a sweeping staircase, each step echoing in the grand hall and leading me closer to her room.

When we reached her room, my eyes widened. It was breathtaking.

The walls were painted a soft, calming shade of lavender and adorned with framed art. The large windows were draped with heavy, velvet curtains in a deeper purple, filtering the sunlight into a gentle glow that bathed the room.

In the center of the room was a king-sized canopy bed, its frame intricately carved and draped with gossamer fabric that added an ethereal touch. Plush, silk pillows, and a sumptuous comforter in shades of gold and cream made the bed look like it belonged in a fairy tale.

Across from the bed, an antique vanity stood, its surface covered with high-end cosmetics and perfumes. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting sparkling reflections around the room. A cozy sitting area in one corner featuring elegant chairs and a small, ornate table with fresh flowers.

But what truly caught my attention was the walk-in closet.

It was more like a boutique, with walls lined with meticulously organized clothing, shoes, and accessories. Designer dresses are hung in perfect order, and their fabrics range from delicate silks to rich velvets. Shelves held rows of shoes, each pair more stunning than the last, and a display of handbags and jewelry completed the picture of indulgence.

Isabella noticed my awe and smiled. "Welcome to my sanctuary," she said.

She pulled out a pale green short silk dress with delicate spaghetti straps, the fabric shimmering under the soft light of her room. The dress flowed like liquid, catching the light in a way that made it seem almost ethereal. She held it up for me to see, the elegant simplicity of the design accentuating its luxurious quality.

"This will look perfect on you," she said confidently.

I took the dress, feeling its silky fabric between my fingers. "Are you sure about this?" I asked, still uncertain.

"Absolutely," she said, pushing me towards the bathroom to change. "Now, go get ready. We don't have much time."

I changed quickly, the dress fitting surprisingly well. When I stepped out, Isabella's face lit up with satisfaction.

"See? Perfect."

I looked at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back. The dress hugged me in all the right places, the pale green contrasting nicely with my skin.

"Let's go," she said, grabbing my hand again and pulling me towards the door.

As we got back into the limo, I took a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever lay ahead.

...🫀...

Once we arrived at the Palace Hotel, Isabella dragged me out of the limo and into the grand entrance through the paparazzi. Cameras flashed in a dizzying frenzy, capturing our every step. Isabella moved with ease, her confidence cutting through the chaos, while I felt like a deer in headlights, trying to navigate the sea of photographers and reporters.

Inside, the ballroom was overwhelming.

The ceilings soared above us, adorned with crystal chandeliers glittered like a thousand stars. Models painted in alabaster white posed as statues, their stillness adding an eerie elegance to the space. The air buzzed with an electric energy, making me feel small and out of place.

Marble floors gleamed underfoot, reflecting the grandeur of the room. Gold accents adorned the walls, and elaborate floral arrangements spilled over tables, their vibrant colors contrasting with the white of the statues.

The hum of polished conversations and muted laughter filled the air, punctuated by the clinking of crystal glasses and the soft strains of classical music.

Isabella nudged me, breaking my awe-struck trance. "Looks like Serena brought a plus one too."

I glanced beside me, spotting a blonde girl and a brown-haired boy who looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Dan?" I blinked, surprised to find my best friend here.

He turned, his eyes widening. "Vi?"

The blonde girl looked between us. "You two know each other?"

Dan nodded. "She's my best friend. We used to live in the same building until she moved."

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Huh, small world."

"Violet, this is Serena," Dan said, looking awkwardly at Serena. "We're..."

"He's your plus one," Isabella finished, looking at Serena.

Serena nodded, looking around the room. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

That would be an understatement.

I noted the curious glances being thrown our way.

"Come on, Vi," Isabella said, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the decadent buffet.

"Any allergies?" she asked as we approached the food.

"I'm a vegetarian," I replied.

Isabella nodded, grabbing two plates and handing one to me. "I would go for the fruits and eclair."

"Thanks," I said, following her lead and filling my plate with watermelon, grapes, and an eclair.

"You said you were just going home to change," a male voice with a distinct Italian accent said behind us.

I turned slightly, watching as a guy with dark brown hair in a black suit and tie raised a brow pointedly at Isabella.

He looked familiar.

"I did," Isabella replied coolly. "I just brought a friend with me."

"Which you conveniently left out," he retorted.

I turned away, not wanting to get involved, and looked around for an empty table.

"Who's the charity case this time?" he sneered.

I went still, gripping my gold plate tightly.

"Sebastian!" Isabella gasped.

"What?" he said, feigning innocence.

"She's my friend. Don't be an ass."

I turned, my eyes locking with Sebastian's dark ones.

"What?" he repeated, this time at me.

I smiled sweetly, not even thinking, as I grabbed the eclair from my plate and shoved it into his face.

The ballroom went silent, and I felt everyone's eyes on me.

"Oops, I tripped," I said nonchalantly.

Sebastian glared at me, wiping cream from his face. "You're dead."

I just licked one of my cream-colored fingers and smirked. He started towards me when two brown-haired guys appeared and held him back.

I set my plate on a table and waved wickedly. "Do you need your bodyguards to protect you?"

Sebastian glowered. "Let me go."

I turned, hearing the rapid snaps of cameras capturing the moment.

Flashing lights and the click of shutters filled the air as people raised their phones to document the spectacle. Rolling my eyes, I walked out of the ballroom, feeling the weight of every stare boring into my back, the whispers and murmurs of the guests trailing behind me.

As I stepped out of the hotel, a rush of fresh air hit me, completely different from the stifling atmosphere inside. The cool breeze brushed against my skin, carrying away the remnants of tension. Just as I began to savor the relief, a voice called out, pulling me back into the moment.

"Wait, Vi!"

I saw Isabella running after me, her high heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor. Her pale pink silk dress fluttered around her legs, catching the light with each stride.

"Look, he—"

"Pissed you off," Isabella finished, nodding.

I sighed, letting the weight of the evening settle over me. "Yeah."

"Sadly, he's my brother. He has that effect on people," Isabella said, grimacing.

I winced, the reality of what I'd done sinking in. "I just shoved an eclair into a crown prince's face."

Isabella nodded, a knowing look in her eyes. "I had a feeling you skimmed his section on Gossip Girl."

"Yeah," I admitted, feeling a bit sheepish.

"I just want to let you know that what you did in there was kinda badass," she said, a hint of admiration in her voice.

"Badass?" I repeated, the word foreign yet oddly fitting.

"Yep. Plus, Sebastian deserves it."

Isabella linked arms with me, and we started walking down the street. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the tension of the ballroom.

"Shouldn't you get back in there?" I asked, glancing back at the entrance of the Palace Hotel.

"Nah. I'm kinda in the mood for an eclair," Isabella said, laughing.

Her laughter was infectious, and I found myself joining in. The absurdity of the night hit us both. As we walked from the grand hotel, I realized I'd found an unlikely friend despite the chaos.

...🫀...

𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍

I stormed into my room, ripping off my tie and yanking off my suit jacket with a growl. The silk fabric crumpled in my fists as I flung it onto the bed. My chest heaved with anger, each breath a struggle to contain the rage boiling inside me.

The door to my room burst open, slamming against the wall. I spun around to find Isabella standing there, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Sei uno stronzo!" she yelled, echoing through the room.

"Why did you even bring that girl?" I snapped back, my voice low and dangerous.

"Because she's my friend!" Isabella shot back, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. "A real friend, not someone our parents buy to hang out with me."

"Great choice of friend, Bella. She's got a hell of a right hook with a pastry," I retorted, sarcasm dripping from my words.

Isabella's face hardened. "You deserved it. You were being an ass, as usual."

"You think she's any different?" I growled, stepping closer to her. "She's just another gold digger looking for a way into our world."

Isabella's eyes flashed with something I rarely saw—genuine disappointment. "This isn't you, Sebastian."

I clenched my fists, the words hitting harder than I wanted to admit. "People change," I muttered, looking away.

She turned to leave but paused at the door. "Something happened to you after the charity gala for the Bianchi family last year."

I clenched my jaw, not wanting to think about last year.

"Just think about it, Seb. Not everyone is out to use you."

With that, she walked out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I ran my fingers through my hair, the weight of her words sinking in. Frustration coursed through me as I poured myself a glass of scotch. The amber liquid swirled in the glass, and I downed it in one go, the burn a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside me.

Stepping out onto the terrace connected to my room, I leaned against the stone railing, the cool night air hitting my face. The city sprawled out below, a glittering maze of lights and life. But all I could think about was that green-eyed girl in the pale green dress, her defiance burning brighter in my mind than the lights of New York.

Her eyes had sparked with anger, but there was something else there—something that intrigued me. Most people flinched or cowered when I was upset.

But not her.

She had stood her ground, challenging me with a sweet smile and a daring act of rebellion.

The way she had marched out of the ballroom, head held high, not caring about the whispers and stares. It was a boldness I hadn't seen in a long time.

I swirled the empty glass, my thoughts a tangled mess.

Maybe Isabella was right.

But letting someone in was a risk I wasn't sure I could take. The walls I had built around myself were tall and unyielding, a fortress to keep out the pain and betrayal that came with trust.

Yet, as I stood there, the city humming beneath me, I couldn't help it. She sparked something in me, a curiosity that refused to be ignored.

I set the glass on the railing and looked over the city.

The lights blurred as my mind raced, caught between the desire to destroy her and the urge to fuck her senseless. I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of my conflicting emotions.

I turned back into my room, the remnants of the eclair still smeared on my jacket. The sweet, sticky residue clung to the expensive fabric, a tangible reminder of the evening's humiliation.

I caught sight of the maid in her suggestive uniform, leaning against the doorframe, her eyes full of intent. She tilted her head, a sly smile curving her lips as she sauntered forward, each step deliberate and provocative.

I rolled my eyes, feeling a surge of irritation. "Out," I ordered, my voice cold and sharp.

She pouted, swinging her hips dramatically as she turned to leave. I watched her retreat, the click of her heels on the marble floor echoing through the room. As the door closed behind her, I let out a long breath, the tension slowly ebbing away.

Exhaustion finally pulled me toward the bed.

The soft sheets offered little comfort as I sank, my mind still buzzing with the evening's events.

I closed my eyes as I lay there, but sleep did not come quickly. Her image lingered in my mind, constantly gnawing at my thoughts.