The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

DYLAN’S POV

Okay, so I know I’ve been a jerk in the past. And maybe I still am. But can I just take a moment to say how grateful I am that I’m not in Jason’s shoes right now?

Because damn.

I have to admit, the day Jason told us he was going to marry Ella—even if it was a contract marriage—I was jealous. Yeah, I still liked her. There, I said it. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. Even after everything, a part of me had always been drawn to her. Back in college, she was fierce, intelligent, and determined, but she also had a softness to her that intrigued me. It was easy to admire her.

And Jason? He had the perfect shot. He was getting to marry her. Contract or not, he was going to be the one by her side, the one with the chance to win her heart for real.

But that was before she found out about the bet. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

Now?

Now she wasn’t the Ella I used to know. The girl I had once watched with admiration had morphed into something entirely different. This wasn’t just the Kingsley heiress. This was a woman with a vengeance. A woman scorned.

And Jason? Well, he was screwed.

I never imagined Ella could turn into such a demoness in a blink. But tonight? Watching her play the perfect wife, doting on Jason, smiling at him, touching him like she actually loved him—it was almost terrifying.

Almost.

Because when I looked into her eyes, I saw it.

She hated him.

The kisses, the soft gestures, the matching outfits, the sweet laughs—it was all an act. And Jason knew it. He looked stiff the entire time, playing along but never really comfortable. Meanwhile, Ella? She was enjoying this. She was enjoying making him squirm, knowing full well that the second they were alone, the real storm would hit.

Max and I had been keeping our distance, not wanting to get dragged into whatever hell Jason was living in. But we could see it. The way she was handling this whole event? It wasn’t just about playing the role of the perfect wife—it was about revenge.

And honestly?

I kind of respected it.

Not that I’d ever say that out loud.

Jason was already panicking over the fact that she was drinking too much. And yeah, that was a problem. The Kingsley heiress getting drunk in public wasn’t the issue—it was the fact that if she got too drunk, she might start talking. And there were a lot of things she could say that would get Jason into a world of trouble.

Not just Jason.

All of us.

Because, let’s be real—the second she spilled about the bet, Mr. Kingsley would have our heads on a platter.

Jason was trying to cut her off from drinking any more, but Ella was not in the mood to be controlled.

"You should slow down with the wine," Jason said, his voice quiet but firm.

Ella just smirked at him. "Oh, Jason. Stop being such a buzzkill. It’s just wine."

Max and I exchanged a glance. This is not going to end well.

Jason, desperate to keep the situation under control, tried again. "Ella, seriously. You’ve had enough for tonight."

She turned to him, and for a second, I almost pitied the guy.

Almost.

"Are you trying to control me now, Jason?" she teased, her voice laced with sweet sarcasm.

Jason swallowed hard. "Just looking out for you. You know, husband duties."

Husband duties? Oh, poor bastard.

Ella laughed softly and took another long sip of her wine before setting the glass down with a loud clink.

"Fine, Jason," she said with an almost playful smile. "You win. I’ll stop drinking. Happy now?"

Jason nodded like he’d just avoided a minefield, but I could see the sweat on his brow. He wasn’t convinced. And neither was I.

Because as she leaned in, kissed his cheek, and whispered something to him, I swear I saw Jason’s soul leave his body for a second.

That’s when I knew—Jason wasn’t living with his wife.

He was living with karma in its purest form.

And the worst part?

He deserved it. After all he was the one who came up with that stupid idea about the bet.

At the end of the day, Jason’s downfall wasn’t going to be his alone.

Oh no.

If Jason went down, Max and I were crashing right down with him.

Because as much as we liked to pretend otherwise, we were just as guilty. We were part of that stupid, idiotic, life-destroying bet. It didn’t matter who came up with it, who said what, or who pulled the trigger—Ella wouldn’t care. Mr. Kingsley definitely wouldn’t care.

And that man? That man was terrifying.

As much as I hated to admit it, we had tried—really tried—to talk to Ella. To explain. To tell her it was never meant to be like that. That we had changed. That we regretted it.

And what did we get in return?

Roasted alive.

I swear, standing there in front of her as she looked at us—no, through us—with those cold, calculating eyes was an experience I never wanted to go through again. She didn’t just reject our apology—she annihilated us. She laughed in our faces. She promised we would all regret it.

And I believed her.

Jason, Max, and I were walking dead men.

Yet, to everyone else in the room, Ella and Jason were the perfect couple. The dream marriage. A fairy tale.

The way she smiled at him. The way he pulled her closer. The way they whispered sweet nothings. The stolen kisses. The way she looked at him with pure admiration and devotion.

A perfect, loving wife. A doting, lucky husband.

It was sickening how flawless their act was.

But behind all of it?

Behind the smiles and the matching outfits and the affectionate gestures?

Jason, Max, and I knew the truth.

And Ella?

She was the devil in disguise.