The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

JASON’S POV

I knew it.

I knew that last damn glass of wine was going to be a disaster.

I had seen it in slow motion—the way she tilted the glass, the way she swirled it like some sophisticated heiress, the way her lips curled in amusement as she took a long, lingering sip.

At first, she seemed fine.

Graceful. Poised. The perfect Kingsley princess.

But then...

Then I noticed the shift.

It wasn’t immediate. Oh no. The devil always took her time.

First, it was the slight sway in her posture, almost as if the ground had betrayed her for just a second.

Then came the smile. Not her usual, sharp, condescending smirk. No. This one was... mischievous. Playful.

That’s when the panic kicked in.

Oh, hell no.

I had survived a whole night of playing the perfect husband. Smiling, nodding, holding hands, stealing kisses—doing everything in my power to make sure Ella didn’t snap and reveal the true nature of our marriage.

I had suffered.

And now?

Now, she was drunk.

I immediately reached for a glass of water. "Here," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "Drink this."

She blinked at me, her expression unreadable. "No."

I exhaled sharply. "Ella."

She waved a hand dramatically. "I don’t need water. I need—" she paused, her brows furrowing, as if she was really thinking about it. Then she gasped, like she had discovered the greatest mystery of life. "Another drink!"

I nearly choked. "You’re done drinking."

She pouted, actually pouted, like a spoiled child. "You’re not my boss."

"No, but I am your husband." The words tasted strange coming out of my mouth, but I used them anyway. Desperate times.

Ella tilted her head, contemplating. "Husband... husband..." she muttered. Then she gasped again, pointing at me like I had just appeared out of thin air. "You! You’re my husband!"

Kill me now.

I heard someone chuckle. I turned my head slightly and saw Max and Dylan watching from a distance, their shoulders shaking with laughter. Bastards.

"Ella," I tried again, lowering my voice. "You need to sober up."

She ignored me, turning to the nearest waiter. "Do you have a throne?"

The poor guy looked terrified. "A... throne, ma’am?"

"Yes, a throne! I am the Kingsley heiress, bow before me!" She spread her arms dramatically, and someone in the crowd actually clapped.

Oh, for the love of—

I grabbed her wrist gently but firmly. "We’re leaving."

She yanked her hand back. "No! I’m having fun! I suffered through this stupid event, pretending to be your loving wife, and I deserve to enjoy myself!" Thank the heavens no one heard that.

She had a point. But I wasn’t about to let her make a scene in front of her father and every single elite business mogul in the city.

I reached for the water glass again. "Drink this."

Ella snorted. Snorted. "Do I look like someone who obeys orders?"

Nope not even when she was sober.

"No, but you do look like someone who’s about to make a very big mistake," I whispered.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Ohhh, are you scared, Jason?"

Yes. Yes, I was.

Because if she said anything—anything—about the bet or our contract, I was dead.

I looked around. More people were watching now. Some whispering. Some smiling. Some probably thinking we were in the middle of a lover’s quarrel.

I needed to end this now.

"Ella, let’s go."

"No."

"Ella."

She crossed her arms stubbornly. "Make me."

Challenge accepted.

Before she could even react, I bent down and scooped her up into my arms.

The entire room gasped.

Some women awwed.

A few people clapped.

Max and Dylan? They howled with laughter. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

And then—then—I heard the one voice I had been dreading.

Her father.

Mr. Kingsley.

He chuckled.

CHUCKLED.

"Ah," he mused, watching me with amusement as I carried his daughter in my arms like some romantic, chivalrous hero. "I knew I chose well. See how he takes care of her when she’s only tipsy?"

If he only knew.

I forced a smile. "Of course, sir."

Ella, meanwhile, had wrapped her arms around my neck and was grinning at me like a lunatic. "Aww, Jason, you’re so strong," she slurred. "Are you sure you’re not secretly a knight?"

I tightened my grip on her and walked faster.

I didn’t stop until we reached the car.

With great effort, I opened the door and gently placed her in the passenger seat.

She immediately reached for the controls. "Ooooh, buttons."

I grabbed her wrist. "No."

She pouted. "You’re no fun."

I shut the door and hurried to the driver’s side before she could pull any more drunk heiress stunts.

As soon as I got in, I turned to her. "Do you realize how close you were to ruining everything?"

Ella hummed, leaning her head against the window. "You worry too much."

"You almost exposed the truth to your father."

She snorted. "Please, I have more self-control than that."

I turned the ignition, gripping the wheel. "Says the woman who just demanded a throne in the middle of a business event."

Ella suddenly perked up. "Oh yeah. That was fun."

I groaned.

She tilted her head to look at me. "Admit it, Jason."

"Admit what?"

"You enjoyed carrying me."

I turned to glare at her. "The only thing I enjoyed was preventing you from ruining both our lives."

She smirked. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that, husband."

I clenched my jaw and pulled onto the road.

This was going to be the longest ride home of my life.

I didn’t know which was the lesser evil—the sober, cold, vengeful ice queen... or the drunk, spoiled, rich heiress.

On one hand, sober Ella was calculating, cruel, and had me walking on broken glass with every word she spoke. She was a walking lawsuit, a ticking time bomb, and a literal nightmare in designer heels.

On the other hand... this Ella—the one currently swaying in the passenger seat, grinning at absolutely nothing—was unpredictable, reckless, and dangerous in an entirely different way.

She was a wild card.

One second, she was adorably drunk, rambling about her family legacy and thrones, and the next... she could be yelling out our entire contract marriage to a room full of business moguls.

Yeah. Both versions were evil.

And I was stuck with both.

"A Knight in Shining Armani?"

Ella giggled beside me as she stared out the car window. "Jason," she slurred dramatically.

I inhaled deeply, already regretting answering. "What?"

She turned to face me, her eyes filled with a weird mix of mischief and... admiration? "You carried me out like a hero."

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. "I carried you out to stop you from embarrassing yourself."

She gasped. Actually gasped. "Are you saying I embarrass myself? Me? The Kingsley heiress?"

"Considering you just demanded a throne and referred to yourself in the third person, yes."

She hummed, tilting her head. "You’re jealous."

I blinked. "Of what?"

She smirked. "That I could totally be a queen."

I exhaled sharply, focusing on the road. "Ella, I swear to God—"

She gasped again, grabbing my arm like she had just discovered the meaning of life. "Jason!"

I nearly swerved. "What?!"

She leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a classified secret. "I think..." She paused for dramatic effect. "I think you might be a knight."

I deadpanned. "A knight."

She nodded, eyes wide with conviction. "A knight in shining Armani."

I dragged a hand down my face. Kill me now.

She sat back, humming to herself. "It makes sense, you know. You saved me from public humiliation. You carried me like a princess. You protected my honor."

I turned to glare at her. "You don’t have any honor."

She gasped yet again. "Excuse me?"

"You made me wear a matching suit. You forced me to act like the perfect husband. You threatened me every five minutes." I scoffed. "You don’t have honor, Ella. You have blackmail."

She pouted. "It’s called strategy."

I scoffed. "It’s called psychological warfare."

"Drive, Driver!"

A comfortable silence settled over us for about five seconds.

Then, suddenly, she sat up straight and clapped her hands. "Driver!"

I blinked. "What?"

She turned to me, grinning. "Drive, driver!"

I looked at her, dead inside. "Ella. I am the driver."

She frowned, as if that fact had just occurred to her.

"Ohhh," she murmured, nodding. Then she shrugged. "Well, then drive faster."

I sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You are so lucky I can’t throw you out of this car."

She smirked. "You could, but then my father would make sure your entire existence is erased from history."

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

Fair point.

She was quiet for a few minutes, probably too busy thinking about royalty and thrones. But then, just as I thought she might finally fall asleep, she turned to me with a wicked smirk.

"Jason," she sang.

I sighed. "What now?"

"Tell me a secret."

I frowned. "What?"

She leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with amusement. "A secret."

"No."

"Come on."

"No."

She huffed, then crossed her arms. "Fine. Then I’ll tell you a secret."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

She grinned. "I almost liked you."

I nearly choked. "Excuse me?!"

She nodded, looking way too pleased with herself. "I liked you. That’s why I agreed to this marriage in the first place."

I scoffed. "No. You agreed because of the deal your father made with you."

She wiggled her eyebrows. "Exactly."

I clenched my jaw. "Ella—"

"And now you’re stuck with me."

I groaned. "Trust me, I am very aware."

She smirked. "And yet... you haven’t run away screaming."

I rolled my eyes. "That’s because I’m under contract."

She laughed. "Sure, Jason. Keep lying to yourself."

I shot her a look. "You know what? I do have a secret."

She perked up. "Ooooh, tell me!"

I smirked. "You are never drinking wine again."

She gasped dramatically. "You monster."

I smirked. "Payback, my queen."

Home, Finally

As I pulled up to the Kingsley estate, I turned to look at her—still grinning, still tipsy, still a menace to society.

I sighed. "Come on, your highness. Time for bed."

She yawned. "Carry me again?"

I stared at her. "Absolutely not."

She pouted. "Ugh. You’re the worst knight ever."

I rolled my eyes and got out of the car.

As much as I hated to admit it...

I had no idea how I was going to survive this marriage.