The contracted deal

The golden sun dipped low behind the hills, casting an amber glow across the sprawling Garcia estate. Fairy lights twinkled like stars overhead. The lush lawns had been transformed into a paradise of elegance and excess, ready to host Mexico's elite.

Tonight was no ordinary night.

Chairman Garcia, billionaire and respected patriarch, was turning eighty. It was to be the party of the year-a celebration dripping with wealth, power, and whispers of legacy.

The media buzzed. Cameras flashed. Guests arrived in sleek cars, their outfits shimmering under the soft evening lights.

At the heart of it all stood the man of the hour-Chairman Eduardo Garcia Sr. His silver hair was slicked back, his tuxedo crisp, and his arm draped around his elegant wife, Rosa Garcia. Together, they welcomed guests with poise and grace. His sharp eyes sparkled with pride as he surveyed the grand spectacle created in his honor.

Beside him stood his only son, Eduardo Garcia Jr.-tall, broad, and commanding. With his firm grip and dignified air, he looked every bit the future head of the Garcia empire.

Trailing behind him was his striking family.

Matteo Garcia, the eldest son, looked like a man carved from marble. With his chiseled jaw, piercing blue eyes, and that signature lazy smirk, the ladies couldn't stop whispering.

Lorenzo Garcia, the middle son, moved with quiet dominance. His full lips curved into something close to indifference, and his intense gaze made it hard to look away. There was a cold elegance about him that made him dangerously alluring.

Then came Santiago, the third and most spirited of the brothers-artist, performer, and undeniable heartthrob. His sun-kissed skin, playful smirk, and powerful stage presence made him impossible to ignore.

And of course, Zamora Garcia, the youngest and only daughter-glowing with youthful charm in her pink cocktail dress. Her radiant smile, flawless skin, and confidence screamed beauty and class.

"Did you see the Garcias? They're like royalty!"

"OMG, Lorenzo is hot!"

"I would sell my soul for a night with Matteo."

"Zamora, can I take a selfie with you?!"

The air buzzed with excitement.

The Garcia boys all wore matching white tuxedos with black bow ties, sitting beside their parents at the VIP table, sipping champagne as Santiago's band prepared to perform.

Meanwhile...

Not far from the glamor, in the cramped kitchen of a small diner downtown, a different story was unfolding.

Valeria Brooks stood in her apron, wiping sweat off her forehead as she finished her shift.

A beauty hidden behind routine and sorrow.

She had once dreamed of more. But after losing her parents in a tragic accident the week after college graduation, dreams had become luxuries she couldn't afford. Now, it was just her, her teenage sister Gabriella, and their aging Grandma Louisa, who sold milkshakes from an old truck.

Valeria's day job at the diner paid a laughable $4 a month. But at night... she was something else entirely.

Behind the velvet curtains of one of the most elite underground clubs-Royal SD-she became The Mask Girl. A mystery. A seduction. A goddess on stage. No one knew her real identity. Not even her sister.

Only one person knew the truth: her best friend, Sofia Jones-a wild, loyal ride-or-die who worked as a cashier in the same restaurant.

"Val, you won't believe it!" Sofia squealed, bursting into the kitchen. "Tell me you met a billionaire and he proposed!"

Valeria rolled her eyes, but her lips curled in amusement.

"Not quite. But I did get offered a $2 million performance."

Sofia screamed. Literally.

"You're joking! Two freakin' million? We're rich, baby!"

"Shhh!" Valeria giggled. "Keep your voice down, people are watching!"

Their boss, Mr. Daniel, scowled from across the room. "Sofia, this is a diner, not a circus. Get out of the kitchen!"

Sofia saluted sarcastically and stormed off, throwing Valeria a wink.

Valeria chuckled quietly, then checked the time. It was almost evening-the night of her biggest show yet. She rushed home, heart pounding, her secret performance waiting just hours away.

"Vally," Grandma Louisa called, concern in her voice. "Where are you off to, dressed like that?"

"It's Sofia's birthday party, Granny," Valeria replied, already annoyed by the interrogation. "I might not come back tonight. I'll sleep over."

Her grandmother sighed. "Okay, just... be safe."

Valeria gave her a quick hug and dashed out.

Sofia was already outside, straddling her black motorcycle like a scene from a movie-dressed head to toe in black leather.

"What's with the all-black outfit?" Valeria teased. "It's a party, not a street race."

"Hop on, baby. Tonight's not just any party. It's the Garcia's."

Valeria froze.

The Garcia family? As in, the billionaires?

She swallowed hard and climbed on. Her hands clutched Sofia's waist as the motorcycle roared to life.

The Garcia estate glittered like something out of a dream.

Valeria stepped out in her custom outfit-glittering, sensual, and mysterious. Her face hidden behind a crystal mask. She wasn't Valeria anymore.

She was the Mask Girl.

Backstage, she paced nervously. Her palms were sweaty. Her heart thundered.

"You got this," Sofia whispered, gripping her shoulders. "Go up there and set the night on fire. I believe in you."

Valeria nodded slowly, then stepped onto the stage.

The music started.

The lights dimmed.

And the world paused.