The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella POV

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Girl, why are you up so early? Why are you even dressing up? To go to my wedding, of course.

What? Why?

I hear the incredulity loud and clear, trust me. After finding out I was nothing more than a stupid bet to Jason and his moronic friends, I should’ve called the whole thing off, right? But no, I’m still walking down that aisle. Not for Jason, though—definitely not for him.

The only reason I agreed to this stupid marriage in the first place was to prove myself to my father, to get his approval to take over the Kingsley legacy. That’s still my goal, and nothing—not even Jason’s betrayal—will derail it.

As for Jason? Let’s just say he’s about to have the most torturous year of his life.

I slip into my dress, letting the fabric settle around me as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The girl looking back isn’t the same one who naively believed she had found some semblance of friendship with Jason. Nope, that girl is gone. The woman staring back at me now is determined, calculating, and ready to play this game to win.

Jason is going to regret every single moment of turning me into his silly little bet.

And the funniest part? He probably thinks he’s won. That he’s got me wrapped around his finger. But this game isn’t over—it’s just changed terrain.

If my father ever finds out what Jason and his friends did, he’ll wipe the entire Kings family off the face of the earth without a second thought. But this isn’t his battle to fight. This is mine.

We started this war a long time ago, back at that diner when Jason thought he could humiliate me. Over time, I foolishly thought we’d called a truce, maybe even moved into something resembling friendship. But I was wrong.

Dead wrong.

This marriage is no longer about finding a comfortable middle ground or maintaining appearances. It’s about making Jason regret every single second he ever thought he could play me.

The best part? By the end of this year, when I’ve proven my worth to my father, I’ll have the perfect exit strategy. If he dares to object to the divorce, all I’ll have to do is tell him about the bet. That’ll be enough to send him into a rage big enough to end Jason’s so-called "perfect candidate" status.

So yeah, the wedding is still on. The vows, the smiles, the pictures—it’s all happening.

But let me be clear. This isn’t a friend zone anymore.

Jason has no idea what’s coming his way.

As I pick up my bouquet, I smirk at the thought. Buckle up, groom. This is going to be one hell of a year.

Walking into the grand hall, every head turned toward me. The dazzling decorations, the extravagant floral arrangements, the sea of faces watching with awe—it was everything a dream wedding should be. But this wasn’t my dream, not anymore. This was my battlefield.

I smiled at everyone. I waved at family friends, gave polite nods to acquaintances, and even let out a soft laugh when one of my aunts complimented my dress. But the one person who didn’t get my smile? Jason.

Oh, he noticed. His stupid grin faltered the moment our eyes met, and I made sure he felt the weight of my cold, detached gaze. The old Ella—sweet, naive, forgiving—was gone. What stood before him now was a vengeful Ella Kingsley, and he had no idea what he’d unleashed.

As the ceremony began, I floated down the aisle with grace, my every step deliberate. My father, proud as ever, held my arm, beaming at the crowd like this was his crowning achievement. If he noticed my subtle tension, he didn’t mention it.

Jason stood at the altar, looking as polished and handsome as ever in his tailored suit. He was watching me, searching my face for any hint of warmth. He wouldn’t find it. The realization that something had changed was written all over his expression.

Good.

When I reached the altar, my father placed my hand in Jason’s. His grip was warm, steady—almost reassuring—but I didn’t flinch. Instead, I stared him down, letting my ice-cold demeanor speak volumes. His smile wavered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

Welcome to the game, Jason. You’re already losing.

The officiant began the vows, and I played my part to perfection. I repeated the words, my voice calm and steady, but with every syllable, I made sure to let my disdain seep through just enough for Jason to notice.

When it was Jason’s turn, he looked at me, his usual confidence faltering. For a moment, I thought he might say something—anything—to address the change in me. But no. He delivered his vows with practiced ease, though his eyes betrayed his confusion.

Finally, the moment came.

"Do you, Ella Kingsley, take Jason—"

"I do," I interrupted smoothly, my voice dripping with a forced sweetness that didn’t quite mask the steel underneath.

"And do you, Jason, take Ella—"

"I do," he said, his voice firmer now, as if trying to reclaim control.

The officiant declared us husband and wife, and Jason leaned in to kiss me. For a second, I considered turning my head just to spite him. But no—this was a performance, and I wasn’t about to falter. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

I let him kiss me, my lips barely brushing his, before pulling back with the coldest, meanest smile I could muster.

Jason blinked, his confusion deepening. He knew. He felt it. The old Ella was gone.

The crowd cheered, oblivious to the storm brewing between us. Jason took my hand, and we turned to face our audience, a picture-perfect couple.

But inside, I was already planning my next move.

Jason didn’t know what he was up against.

As we walked back down the aisle, his grip on my hand tightened slightly, as if trying to ground himself. I didn’t pull away, but I didn’t acknowledge it either.

Let the games begin.

The rest of the wedding day passed in a whirlwind of orchestrated perfection—at least to everyone else. For me, it was a masterclass in restraint.

Jason stayed close, his usual charm in full force as he greeted guests, exchanged pleasantries, and pretended everything was perfect. To the untrained eye, we were the epitome of a happy couple. To me, it was a farce.

During the reception, I played my part flawlessly. I laughed when appropriate, posed for photos, and even humored my father as he delivered a heartfelt toast about the union of two powerful families. Jason’s toast followed, and while his words were sweet and sincere, I could see the cracks in his facade. He kept glancing at me, searching for any sign of warmth.

He found none.

The first dance was the hardest part. Jason held me close, his hand firm on my waist as we swayed to the soft melody. "You’re quiet," he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I tilted my head, giving him a saccharine smile. "It’s my wedding day. What’s there to say?"

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t press further. Smart move.

The rest of the night was a blur of small talk, congratulations, and forced smiles. The guests were none the wiser, but I could feel Jason’s unease growing with each passing moment.

As the reception wound down, Jason leaned in close while we posed for a final photo. "Ella," he said softly, "did I do something wrong?"

I turned to him, my smile never faltering. "Why would you think that?"

"Because..." he hesitated, his brow furrowing. "You’re...different."

"Am I?" I replied, my tone light and airy. "Must be the wedding nerves."

He didn’t look convinced, but before he could respond, we were whisked away for yet another round of goodbyes.

When it was finally time to leave, Jason opened the car door for me like a perfect gentleman. I slid in without a word, keeping my expression neutral as he joined me. The ride to our new home—Jason’s father carefully chosen marital villa—was silent, save for the hum of the engine.

Jason cleared his throat. "Ella, if something’s bothering you—"

"I’m fine," I said curtly, cutting him off.

He sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Okay. If you say so."

The villa was as grand as expected, every detail meticulously planned by my father. As we stepped inside, Jason turned to me, his expression a mix of concern and determination.

"Ella, I meant what I said during the vows," he began, his voice steady. "I’ll do my best to make this work. I want us to be happy."

I raised an eyebrow, my lips curving into a smirk. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he said firmly.

I took a step closer, my gaze locking onto his. "Well, Jason, let’s see how committed you are to that. Because this...?" I gestured between us. "This isn’t going to be as easy as you think."

His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of defiance sparking within them. "I don’t expect easy," he said. "I just want a chance."

I chuckled, the sound devoid of humor. "Oh, you’ll get your chance, Jason. But don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten about the bet."

His face paled, his mouth opening as if to protest. But I didn’t give him the chance.

"Good night, husband," I said sweetly, brushing past him and heading upstairs to the bedroom.

Jason stood there for a moment, stunned into silence.

The battle lines were drawn. And I intended to win.