Chapter 1: Party

A/N: First and for all, I would like to warn everyone that this story will be posted unedited. Drilled with different types of errors, so please just overlook it, and take your hates somewhere. I think I deserve at least some respect.

Thank you!

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"I go wherever the wind blows... or the river flows... or wherever Alexander is out of sight ..." - Clara Bell

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Clara Bell's POV

"We are here, milady," A stiff-voiced snapped me out of my train of thoughts. I bolted sat upright and looked out the limo's tinted window.

I've been dreading not to come to Claire's party since I knew I'm going to see that ass, I mean Alexander James Demakis. I'm a hypocrite if I'll deny his strong charisma. He is like a flame, and these women are like a moth, and I hate the fact that I'm turning into one of them.

After that stolen kiss, I've been trying hard to avoid him, but tonight on Claire's birthday, I have no excuse not to attend. She's one of my closest friends aside from Victoria Pallos, which was miles away.

They were like my sisters.

The security who were ordered by my overprotective father, Rafael Alejandro Valiente, stood on the side of the opened door with an outstretched arm.

I'm wearing a deadly shoe, a sky-high Christian Louboutin 5-inches Top Vague. I hate being treated like a princess, but tonight, I needed some help to avoid tripping over and land on my face. That would be very embarrassing.

And as I thought, paparazzi were waiting at the front door of the luxurious building.

I smiled sweetly at him and accepted his hand, then mindfully stepping on the concrete ground. The heel of my sophisticated Lace Leather stiletto —detailed with embedded crystals and a scalloped vamp, with the Christian Louboutin's signature red sole— hit the floor, and as the other heel connected to the floor, it made a sweet sexy sound.

Planting myself in the ground facing the facade of the luxurious building right in the middle of Manhattan, I gently and gracefully pulled my hand back from Clinton's hold, and he tipped his head slightly and stepped back.

"Thank you, Clinton," I smiled.

Flashes of camera welcomed me. My securities quickly blocked them before they could reach me.

Before I made my way to the entrance door, I pulled my chiffon dress lower, fixing my white low-back, flowy dress that passed mid thigh, then held my red clutch with my right hand.

I ignored the pleas of the paparazzi. Tipping my chin up, I strutted towards the wide entrance door. Clinton vigorously planted himself in front of the massive doors and swung it open.

I gave him a nod of appreciation before stepping into the spacious, luxurious lobby.

I sauntered across the lobby of Claire's condominium building, and I almost forget, I have several men in suit flanking behind me. I stopped and casually look at the chief security, Clinton, who quickly planted himself in front of me. "You and your friends may go now."

"Milady, with due respect, we are ordered to watch you until this party is over," he politely responded.

He looked a little hesitant, yet he stood his ground. I knew they feared my father, and at the same time, they understand me. I respect their loyalty and devotion to their job, but really. I'm not going anywhere dangerous. I'm just gonna be here in this building, not like I'm going to a bar, and if something happened, they are just a phone away.

"I do understand your devotion to your job, Clinton, but I'm not going anywhere. The party is in Claire's penthouse, on the top floor." I gave him a reassuring smile. "Tell dad, it's my decision, and I promise to call you if something happened, or something is suspicious." Another sweet smile hoping he'll give in, and he stood there for a minute, analyzing my words before he acquiescently nodded his head.

"Very well then, milady. My friends and I will just be outside this building in case of emergency," he obliged. I nodded my head. I'd rather them go home, but Clinton is not going to disobey my father. I'll settle for that than having them flocking around me up, in Claire's penthouse.

"Outside the building, Clinton," I reminded him when his other friends scattered and about to station themselves inside the huge, and elegant lobby.

"Yes, milady," he gave me a half nod, then turned to order his other friends. He motioned them to go out.

I smiled, watching them retreating through the massive double glass door. When they all disappeared, I turned on my heel and headed straight to the empty elevator.

I ignored the look of appreciation from the guests and the staffs. I punch the penthouse button, and the door slides closed. Seconds later, the machine smoothly moved up.

Finally, I'm standing in front of Claire's door. Her door was open, and she was standing in the doorway waiting for me.

She has that big smile plastered on her face as she welcomed her guest. When I reached her, "Clara Bell!" she squealed, then she pulled me into a tight hug. I returned her bone crushing hug giggling. We pulled apart, and she excitedly tugged me by the hand inside, her attention fully given to me. I smiled at that.

She owned the whole top floor, and I don't have any idea, how or where did she get all that money, to be honest. We have the same profession, we almost were in the same projects, yet I couldn't afford such luxury.

The place was enormous, and obviously, every corner screamed luxury. She even owned a badass top down red coupe supercar with scissor door, 2016 McLaren 650S.

She was breathing rapidly, dodging and nodding at every guest we passed by. "Oh my God, I can't still believe you came!" she giggled, coming to a halt and gave me the once-over with a mischievous grin. "You always looks fabulous, boo."

I rolled my eyes. I hate that endearment, but I kept my mouth shut. I just rolled my eyes whenever I hear it.

She's really very sweet.

"You don't look bad either," I smiled sweetly, taking in her look.

As usual, she looked her best. She was wearing a sequin gold mid-thigh dress with a very low v-neckline, showing her fake tanned chest. Damn, she always likes to dress like that, almost showing nothing, but I know, she's not a slut. Not every woman who wears clothes that almost giving nothing to the imagination means they are hoes. You can't judge someone by how they dress. Sometimes, looks can be deceiving.

And, I love her to bits.

Throwing my arm around her shoulders, I chanted. "Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, happy birthday—"

"Oh cut it out!" she playfully grumbled, and we both burst out in giggles.

I pulled my arm back and dropped it to my sides.

She beamed at me, her eyes glistening. I could tell that she's happy that I'm here. And for that, all the dread I felt washed away.

Some of the guests greeted her, and she just gave them a smile of appreciation, bringing her full attention back to me.

"Did you get the gift I sent?" I asked afterward as she pulled me into the crowd. My eyes involuntarily scanned the room, I realized how many guests was present.

The blasting music reverberated across the four corners of the glass-walled space. Everyone seems to be having a good time.

I retraced my gaze back to her. I'm so happy to see her after several months she was away on vacation. I felt like I'm hyperventilating with the loud bass of the music, blaring inside the room.

The room reeks with the smell of alcohol, weeds, sharp smell of perfumes, mixing together. It felt like my head would explode any moment. A headache starting to grow.

"Yes, I love them!" she answered, her voice rose a few octave so I could hear over the loud music.

She flipped her curled dirty blonde hair over her shoulder with her hands, and the big diamond stone glitters with the light reflecting on it, sitting on her ears magnificently. It looks fabulous on her.

"It looks amazing on you," I complimented, and she beamed appreciatively at me. "I'm glad it came earlier, it looks perfect with your dress!" I cried out, a sense of happiness washed over me as I stared into the gorgeous pair of diamond ear pendants, with two pear-shaped diamonds, mounted in yellow and white gold.

The pendants may be easily swapped or detached completely, giving the owner three options for how to wear them, the reason why she loves the thing other than the fact that it is diamond, girl's best friend.

When this guy approached us —we were both sipping our coffee, at the hard rocks, a cafe next door to our agency— selling the expensive diamond earring, she instantly fell in love, but she thought it was too much for her pocket after buying the penthouse.

I saw the disappointment in her eyes when she realized she couldn't afford it. The guy looked like he needed the money ASAP. The man was desperate to sell the gem. He probably needed the money badly.

He's in his mid-thirties, and he looks like he came from a well-bred family. The way he talks and his actions show some refinery. The stone looks legit either. I had seen a lot. Dad loves to shower us with diamonds.

According to the man, it was an heirloom. He told us that he needed the money. He lost a million in the casino, and he had to pay his debt, and his only resort is selling the earring his mother left him.

The guy left us and approached another family, and I think they can't afford it, too. When Claire excused herself to go to the bathroom, I quickly approached the guy, and I offered him the amount I could afford. And I was surprised, he agreed right away. I could tell, he was too desperate at that moment, and maybe he thinks, no one could afford it anyway.

I've been mulling what to give to Claire on her 25th birthday. And it's a blessing in disguise. It was perfect.

"Thanks again, boo. I don't know how to thank you enough," she cried out, and I waved it off, pulling her to me.

"You're so dramatic. It's nothing!" I giggled.

I missed her so much. Three months of not seeing her were like years. "I'm glad you like it," murmured.

Of course, she loves it. I saw how her eyes sparkled when the man laid that stone in front of us.

"Are you kidding me?" she cried out. A little too dramatic. I chuckled between hugs.

We pulled apart.

"Come, I want you to meet some of my friends from high school," she tugged my hand, making a beeline towards a group on one corner of the huge living room. She took one flute of champagne from the tray of a waiter strolling around on our way, and she handed it to me.

I had to pull my hand so I can hold the flute, while the other holding my clutch.

My eyes roamed around as I followed her, mindful of the other guest on my way. The spacious room was packed with guests. I felt like I want to leave right now. The guests were mixed, from models to celebrities. Mostly elites. They were in a cluster group, chattering. Others were dancing, while the most, drinking while conversing.

Three waiters in their black and white uniforms carrying trays with beverages and caviars, strolling around.

Damn! Claire always throws a wild party.

Claire and I were the opposites. She's a party goer, and I'm not.

I know you'll question me why I chose to be a model if I hated parties. One thing for sure is because I love to travel, and secondly, I don't want to be home, not that I hate my family. I just hate my sibling's over protectiveness. Especially dad, he thinks I'm a glass. He treated me like a baby, a princess and I hated that, but of course, I never told him that. I know he favored me among all of my siblings and they all knew that. And they never said a word about it. I think all of them favored me, I don't know why, that's why sometimes, it pisses me off. Well, most times.

I felt like all their eyes are directed at me. It seemed that they all watching me.

At some point, I love the attention. I love the feeling that they adored me, too much quite honestly. I am spoiled. I can ask anything to them, and they will give it to me without blinking. But, I never took advantage of that. I was never a brat.

Dad and Mom were against my decision when I chose to be a model, but grandpa supported me all the way.

I love him to bits, and I missed him terribly.

"Happy Birthday, Claire!" Someone yells, and my gaze darted to the group, and Claire shouted her thank you.

Claire looked at me. "Are you alright?" she asked.

I nodded my yes. Claire knew I hated this.

I never grace a party like this and often make an excuse to bail off, avoiding to get into any scandal. Being a model, posing almost nude here and there, face and body plastered all over internets, billboards, and magazines already had raised a lot of controversy in our family. As one of the royal daughters of the former Duke and Duchess of Russia, I should set an example to our fellow men. The hardest part of being in the royal. Your action is always monitored.

We stopped behind a group consisting of three ladies and two men. I felt a little relieved that I didn't see Alex anywhere.

I quickly shook his thoughts off my mind.

The girls stopped talking when Claire and I reached them.

"GIRLS!" Claire started, her voice loud enough for everyone in the group to hear. All three heads snapped to Claire's direction, and they all smiled at her. Their eyes averted to me, and I flashed them all my friendliest smile. They returned the smile, and I think, I'm going to like them.

Claire enthusiastically introduced them. I tucked my clutch in my underarm so I can hold my flute with the same hand.

"Boo, I want you to meet my high school allies, Amalia," she motioned her hand to a fake red-haired girl with a cheeky smile. She has a very fair skin, compared to everyone, small face with a small pointy nose, thin lips, and slightly high cheekbones. She is the shortest among us all, probably about 5'4.

"Clara Bell," I said as I took her extended hand with my free hand.

"It was nice meeting you," she smiled. She nodded.

My eyes darted to another blonde girl. "And this is Zorian," Claire introduced, pointing at her. The mole under one of her eyes caught my attention. It looks cute on her. She had a charming smile, and her fake tan looks stunning on her. Pouty lips that were defined by a nude lipstick, false lashes that gave her a snobby look, yet beautiful, and a bit shorter than us. Claire and I stood 5'9 tall.

We just nodded at each other, then my eyes landed on the dark raven girl who stood just above my ear. "And this is Amarynth short for Aryn," Claire grinned.

I smiled at her, and she smiled back, whipping her long straight hair over her shoulder and extended her hand.

"My pleasure to meet you," she beamed, and I took her hand for a brief handshake, returning her a sweet smile.

"The pleasure is all mine," I replied.

She looked like Eva Green with gray eyes. She had smokey eyes, and I was wondering if her hair is natural black or dyed. Her cherry red lipstick on her thick lips looks sexy on her.

"Oh, and these guys are, Kirby and Frank, both an aspiring model." Claire pointed at the two men standing next to each other. Claire flashes them her most charming smile and knowing her, I knew she's flirting with them. Typical Claire. I almost rolled my eyes.

Yes, she's flirty, but I know she's loyal to Alex and outrageously heads over heels over that megalomaniac ass.

I smiled at the two ignoring the uneasiness slowly crawling in my gut. The stares they both gave me, especially the copper-haired guy creeps the hell out of me.

Kirby, the copper-haired man, stands over six feet tall, broad-shoulder, wore a pinstripe blue dress shirt with three buttons off. The fabric hugging his body outlined his buffed chest.

He took my hand in his, brought it to his lips, and tenderly placed a kiss on the back of my hand. I suddenly felt uneasy.

An eyebrow involuntarily cocked upward as I watched the uncalled gesture.

"It was such a pleasure to meet the most stunning, most loved Clara Bell Valiente," he said smoothly. He grinned lopsidedly, and I forced a smile as I casually pulled my hand back and dropped it to my sides.

"Same here," I said, darting my gaze to the guy next to him.

Frank, with tousled hair like Kirby, hair as dark as night, is a bit taller than Kirby. He stared at me with a suggestive grin.

I'm so used to this kind of stare, but at this moment, I dreaded to get one. I forced a friendly smile and shook his hand briefly, avoiding his lips to touch my hand like Kirby just did.

"Nice meeting you," I said as I promptly pulled my hand away, in a subtle manner. His smile widened. "My pleasure. And I hope to know you more, Clara Bell," he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I almost rolled my eyes.

"Maybe," I responded nonchalantly. I heard Claire giggled.

"Sorry guys but my best friend were not interested in dating a guy," Claire declared causing them all to look at me like I turned alien. Shifting their gaze between Claire and me with apparent confusion.

I know what they are thinking, but I didn't bother rectifying it.

I'm glad she saved me from telling these guys that I hate dating.

It's not that I hate it, I just despised manwhore, womanizer, man-slut, gigolo, philanderer, or however you called a man who habitually seeks sex. Who treats a woman like a toy, a plaything.

A mere sexual plaything.

I believe in love, of course. I wanted to have mine, but I will make sure to fall in love to a one-woman kind, and I'm sure, he's not living in the same society as I was.

I've seen how these men with money play with every girl's heart.

They treat a woman like a toy, dump them when they're done with them like a used napkin, because they thought their money could attract any girl, and I can't blame them. I've seen a lot, too. Even with those ugly asses, sex-addicts could get a young and hot girl, as long as he's filthy rich.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Claire thumbing her cell phone before she turns her attention to us. "Later girls, I have to call this back," she said as she raised her phone, and then gave me an apologetic look. "Hope you don't mind hanging out with them as I'll make some urgent call," she said.

"Of course not! I don't mind at all." I gave her a reassuring smile. She gave me a quick hug before turning to her friends.

"Guys," she called, and everyone gave her their attention. "Please be nice to her," she cooed. Everyone nodded. Pointing at the two. "And you two," —swinging her finger back and forth between them— "Stop messing with her, or you will regret it!" she warned, widening her eyes at them. The two chuckled their yes.

I playfully swatted Claire's arm, scowling at her. "Go, I can take care of myself," and gave her a soft push. She just grinned at me.

As soon as she left, Kirby turned to face me. The flirtatious Kirby I just met a moment ago is gone, or so I thought.

"I'm glad I came. I would have missed this chance to meet you personally, Clara Bell," he smiled, and I knew he was trying to sound casual.

I could read whatever running in that small head of his. His intention is as clear as the filtered water.

I just smiled and took a tentative sip of my champagne. Frank was now talking to Zorian. Apparently, he was flirting with her.

Aryn and Amalia were animatedly listening to whatever Frank was saying, but his eyes were obviously glued to Zorian.

Kirby was still rambling, and occasionally our hands touching since he was so close to me as we stood side by side. I wasn't really interested in his story as he kept on prattling on, but I tried to act as I was absorbed. I just nod when I agreed and smiled when he made a point.

My eyes furtively scanned the crowd.

"What's my ice princess doing in this crowd?" I stiffened when that rich, deep velvety voice reached my hearing. The hair at the back of my nape stood up as his hot breath kissed my earlobe. My heart drummed like hooves of horses.

I could feel his chest almost touching my back. To my horror, he was behind me, looming over my head.

Alexander stood over 6'4, and even with my sky high heels on, he still a head taller than me.

I wanted to ignore him, but he was born to be a charmer. An obnoxious charmer as he always is.

My anger level spiked up. Especially when his hand snake possessively around my waist, wedging himself in between Kirby and me.

He gave Kirby a single curt nod. His overwhelming arrogance really annoyed me to no end. The poor Kirby looked intimidated as he moved aside. And anyone standing next to Alexander James Demakis would look like a wilted plant.

"Mr. Demakis," Kirby acknowledged him before moving closer to Frank.

Kirby joined Frank, just then I acquiescently drifted my attention to him.

Snapping my head to him, I was met with his lips. My eyes widened when his lips landed on my cheek. He gave me a devilish grin, causing my eyes to dart together, my eyes sharpening hoping he would split into two.

"Get your hand off my waist right now, or I'm going to wash your arrogant face with champagne," I warned, glancing at the half full flute in my hand then back at him.

He released my waist and lifted his hands in silent surrender.

I smirked.

"Better!" I snapped, throwing him another sharp glare. He turned his back to me and realized a waiter stopped in front of him. He grabbed a beer from the waiter's tray, and the brown haired waitress gave him a suggestive smile, and I rolled my eyes. Just then he turned to look at me, he caught me.

He smirked. "Jealous, aren't we?" he teased smugly as he sipped his beer.

"Really?" I seethed, raising an eyebrow. He just shrugged his shoulders as he scanned the room.

"If you are looking for Claire, she's on the balcony, just making a call," I informed him, and he just looked at me, then he took another sip on his beer, then another.

I looked away, avoiding to stare at his outrageous handsome face. Strong, sharp jaws, pointed nose, high cheekbones, he was like carved by a legendary sculptor. Even Zeus paled in comparison.

He got good genes. His father, Stavros Demakis is like a Greek God, and his mom was a former supermodel. It's not surprising if he was made almost to perfection. With both gorgeous genes, there's no doubt.

"Is it true you're dating someone?" he asked out of nowhere after a while causing me to snapped my head to him.

I frowned at him.

Where the hell did he get that information?

And then I thought, maybe he would leave me alone if I'll agree.

Without thinking I approved.

"Yes," I said, looking away, faking an interest in the crowd. I caught some guest that looks drunk already.

The way they dance in zigzags rather gyrating, some were laughing, too hard I must say, and others, staggering. I thought it was too early to get drunk. The party seems to be just starting.

"Who is he?" I heard him asked.

My head turned swiftly, and it's too late when I realized how close he was to me. Looming over me, his chest touching my shoulder.

My head tilted back to meet his intense gaze. My eyes momentarily dropped to his luscious lips that I once tasted, and now craving to feel it again against mine. Those lips that haunted me every now and then.

Snapped it out, Clara Bell.

"Who is he, my ice princess?" he asked rather demanded. His face was grim, his shoulders stiffed.

My eyes slowly traveled to his structured nose, that made him looks more intimidating, then to his eyes that held a lot of unfathomable emotions. His lips curled into a smirk.

His unruly copper hair was mussed like he just rolled out of bed, but boy, it did add more charisma to his already overwhelming appeal.

"Did you missed my kiss, my ice princess?" he drawled smugly, and I suddenly snapped out of my trance. My cerulean eyes quickly met his, shooting him a venomous stare as I stepped back when realization dawned on me.

Too close. Our close proximity is unsettling, and I hated it. I hated that he affected me this much.

"Of course not!" I snapped, a little too defensive to my dismay. I face him with a flat face, leveling him a glowering look. "What's so special with your kiss to be remembered?" I said, unable to hide my sarcasm as I forced a half-hearted chuckle.

"Really?" he stepped forward.

Smirking smugly, he inched forward.

I chuckled, devoid of humor as I stepped back again. "Oh don't be too cocky, Alex." I sneered. "Believe me, I've kissed a lot of guys before. I don't even remember yours," I snickered sarcastically and his mischievous grin slowly withered. His cold, stoic eyes settled on me, glaring at me with disapproval.

The muscles of his face hardened, his jaws flexing. "I know you've never been kissed, Bell." He stressed ominously. "I know when I've kissed one!" he gritted out gruffly. The confidence in his tone had my blood boiling in exasperation.

My eyes narrowed at him. I placed the flute close to my lips and downed the rest of the Champagne, swallowing the strong urge to slap him in the face. Not here in the crowd.

I'm a royal for heaven's sake.

Reign your temper, Clara Bell. Don't let this prick get under your skin.

How dare him telling me that I've never been kissed. What does he think of me? I can't get any man. That no one would kiss me.

I have been kissed. Of course, I did. I had a boyfriend before, a secret relationship that didn't last because I was afraid of my father and he doesn't belong to our circle.

This prick!

I opened my mouth, ready to slice him with words, place him on where he should be. "Babe!" I closed my mouth and swallowed the words I wanted to hurl at this ass when I heard Claire's voice behind us. We both turned to see Claire strutting happily towards us. Her eyes glued to him, there was a hungry look in them.

She launched herself onto him as soon as she was close, catching Alex unprepared. Alexander's hands instinctively curled around her, and they both shared a lingering kiss.

I quickly looked away, eyeing another waiter nearby to get another drink.

I ignored that sudden pain that tore at my heart upon witnessing how cozy they were.

I can't fantasize my best friend's boyfriend, especially not Alexander.

I thought they were done, I drifted my gaze back at them.

Claire clung to him like her life depended on it. Alex looked at me. Something in his eyes that made me wished it was me.

I suddenly shook off the ridiculous thought. I'm thinking irrationally.

She's my best friend for goodness sake.

I looked away as slammed back down the jealousy rising in my chest. I shouldn't feel this way. Conscience tugging at my heart I caught a waiter coming towards us. I flagged him down and placed the empty flute on his tray.

Grabbing one caviar and popped it in my mouth before grabbing another flute. I made successive sips on my champagne, with my eyes trained on another group and I realized, Giovanni Piere Santorini was here.

He waved at me when our eyes met. I waved back.

GP is here? The caveman is here.

He's Uncle Giovanni and aunt Enna's eldest son. I called him GP because people called his dad, Gio, except for Uncle Sai. He's the only one calling him Leone.

I excused myself from the group, avoiding to look at the couple.

I headed towards GP.

We knew each other since diapers. We used to play together when we were kids. His dad and my dad were best friends and so our mothers. I didn't see him often when he went to University.

I felt Alex's eyes on my back, and I wondered how my senses can become so sharp when it comes to him?

I ignored him and hope in my heart that he won't bother me, especially when Claire is around.

....

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A/N: I'm so excited with this one, too. Hope you all like it.

Here's Alex and Clara Bell.

Peter Menky was like the mixed Matt and Miranda.. lol, while Bregje Heinen was mixed of David and Candice.. (Oh god, my imagination... lol)

Do you think they fit to be Alex and Clara Bell?