The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella POV:

"Those are three charming guys going after you," Mr. Harris said with a mischievous look as he adjusted his cufflinks, glancing at me like he was piecing together a puzzle he found amusing.

I groaned internally but kept my face neutral, trying not to let his teasing get under my skin. "If you’re talking about Jason, Max, and Dylan, don’t even start. They’re just... around."

"And if I’m not wrong," he continued, ignoring my protest, "the first one—the boldest one—is the King’s Empire heir, isn’t he?"

"Yeah," I replied absentmindedly, my thoughts still caught up in those damn Prescott idiots who had dared to try and throw me behind bars. "I can’t believe they had the nerve to pull something like this."

"What did you do to the Prescotts?" Mr. Harris asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

I gave him a sideways glance, a small smirk tugging at my lips. "I dealt with them the Kingsley way, but only to their brat seems Daddy bear has come to play" I said smugly.

He chuckled softly, a mix of pride and amusement in his voice. "That’s my goddaughter. Ruthless and efficient. Don’t worry about the Daddy bear he won’t be bothering you again. But, if I’m being honest, I’m more curious about how you managed to wrap the King’s heir around your little finger. You must’ve done something, Ella."

I rolled my eyes, brushing off his words like they were nothing. "Oh, him?" I said, pretending to be uninterested. "Let’s just say that’s a long story for another day."

His laugh came out deep and full of disbelief. "Sure, you can play coy if you want, but don’t think I didn’t notice the other two as well. The way they were looking at you back there..." He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ella, you’ve captured quite a lot of attention, haven’t you?"

My stomach twisted at his words. "They’re just—" I began but stopped myself, unsure of what I could even say. God, I hoped he was wrong about Dylan and Max. Jason was already more than I could handle; the last thing I needed was a full-on love triangle—or, worse, a square.

"If they knew who your father is," Mr. Harris added casually, "they’d probably be admiring you from the sidelines. If they’re this bold now, they’d be frozen stiff if they found out you’re a Kingsley."

I sighed at that, memories of my father’s overbearing ways surfacing in my mind. "That’s one of the little things I loved about being a Kingsley," I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "Dad sure knew how to scare away pesky boys like them."

Mr. Harris chuckled, shaking his head. "True, but you’re not a little girl anymore, Ella. You’ll have to deal with their attention yourself now. Besides..." He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. "I have a feeling you might not mind one of them being persistent."

I groaned out loud this time, shooting him a look. "Please, stop."

But his words stuck with me, even as I tried to dismiss them. Was he right? Was Jason’s attention really that different from Dylan’s or Max’s? And did it even matter?

No. It didn’t. It couldn’t.

Jason, Dylan, Max—they could all fight over me if they wanted to, but I wasn’t about to play into their drama. I had more important things to focus on—like making sure the Prescotts didn’t try anything stupid again.

But as I sat there, pretending not to care about Mr. Harris’s words, the idea of all three of them vying for my attention made my head spin. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

"Anyway, tell your driver to drop me at the diner. I’ve got a job to do," I said, my voice firm.

He frowned, clearly not happy about it. "Ella, you know your father’s going to have my head for letting you work in that... that place. I can’t believe you’re still doing it."

I gave him a look—a warning one. "You know the deal," I said. "Not a word to my dad... or you deal with me." My tone was playful, but there was an edge to it.

He sighed heavily, obviously defeated. "You really are your father’s daughter, there is no lesser evil to the options you give me," he muttered under his breath, but I could see the soft smile he was trying to hide.

As the car pulled up in front of the diner, I turned to my godfather, who was giving me that disappointed look. He was clearly about to say something, probably about how dangerous it was for me to be running around after everything that happened, but I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. I cut him off before he could open his mouth.

The driver pulled up in front of the diner, and I unbuckled my seatbelt. As I opened the door, I turned back to my godfather. "Take care, godfather," I said, my voice teasing. "Next time, try looking younger. Apparently, people say you’re my sugar daddy. I want a handsome one, though."

I could see his eyes widen in shock, his jaw practically hitting the floor. He wasn’t expecting that. His face went red, and for a moment, I thought he might explode from the embarrassment.

With a laugh, I slammed the door and walked toward the diner, leaving him speechless behind me. The sound of his muffled chuckles and the faint "Ella!" faded as I made my way to the entrance. I knew I’d left him stunned, but that was half the fun. If my dad got a wind of it now that would be fun.

As soon as I stepped into the diner, I heard my boss’s voice, loud and grating, echoing through the almost-empty space. "You’re late! 20 minutes late, Elly! Come on, I don’t pay you to just sit around! There is work to do, costumers to serve"

I sighed, already feeling the weight of another shift. I scanned the room, seeing no customers in sight—just a lone guy nursing a cappuccino like it was the only thing keeping him from disappearing into his own world. He looked like he had been dumped by life and was trying to drown his sorrows in a mug of overpriced coffee. As for my delusion boss, No need to mention the lack of customers. If he was dreaming that the place was packed, who was I to ruin it for him?

My boss went on, complaining about how bad it was for business, how I should be punctual, and how I needed to stop making his diner look like a ghost town. I glanced back at the guy with his cappuccino, clearly not going anywhere anytime soon, and rolled my eyes. Yeah, because it was all my fault that the place was empty.

"Just let me change," I muttered, already heading for the back before he could go on any longer. I didn’t have the energy for his usual rant.

As I walked back to the staff area, I couldn’t help but pray that those pesky boys—Max, Dylan, and especially Jason—wouldn’t show up today. But, who was I kidding? They never failed to pop in, especially on my shifts. And if they did, I would have to deal with them, whether I wanted to or not.

I quickly changed into my uniform and tied my hair up, ready for another day of pretending to care about this job and pretending that everything was fine. But deep down, I knew today wouldn’t be just another regular shift. Something about the way things were shaping up with Jason kept lingering in the back of my mind.

And just as I was about to step back into the front, I heard the sound of a familiar voice. Damn it. Here we go.

I couldn’t help the groan that escaped my lips as Amber’s voice pierced the air. Of course, she was here. And of course, she had to open her mouth. "Oooh, I thought you’d be rotting away in that cell. Just saw your pictures in handcuffs—hope it wasn’t too traumatizing," Amber said with that sickeningly sweet smile of hers.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to show how much her words were getting under my skin. As if I didn’t have enough going on, now Amber had to make a circus out of everything. "I also have some pictures of you in that luxurious car. Don’t tell me you’ve started sleeping around for money now?" she added, her smile widening as if she’d just cracked some genius joke.

Great. Just perfect. Now she also thought I had a sugar daddy—great!. And knowing Amber, she had probably already posted those damn pictures, adding fuel to the fire. I didn’t even have to guess. She was probably waiting for me to react so she could enjoy the show.

Honestly, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to punch her in the face or just walk away and ignore her. It was honestly becoming too much. Fate really had it out for me today, huh? It is overworking itself to make my life miserable all through, It’s like it had lined up this perfect storm of chaos, all so Amber could continue her little vendetta and keep the attention circus going.

"Amber, really?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel the irritation bubbling under the surface. "You’ve really got nothing better to do than stalk me and take pictures? How original."

She smirked, clearly enjoying my frustration. "Oh, don’t be like that, Ella," she cooed, "I’m just helping people know the truth. Wouldn’t want you getting a wrong reputation, you know? Especially with that car and all."

I was done. Done with the drama. I shot her a cold glare, hoping she would just get the message and leave me to deal with my own mess.

But no, Amber wasn’t going anywhere. She liked this game way too much. And me? I was about to become the unwilling pawn in her stupid little chess match.