Chapter 1 The Masquerade Encounter

"Late again," Emily muttered under her breath, clutching the hem of her crimson dress as she climbed the grand staircase of the Barrett Organization's luxury hotel. The heels she'd picked for elegance were now her worst enemy, wobbling with every hurried step. She was over an hour late to the most prestigious event of the year, a charity ball her father had insisted she attend. "I don't have time for this." She adjusted her mask-a delicate lace design that sat prettily over her nose-and pushed open the ballroom doors. The scene inside was breathtaking.

Crystal chandeliers glimmered overhead, their light scattering across the opulent gold and cream décor. Guests in designer gowns and sharp tuxedos milled about, champagne glasses in hand, the buzz of laughter and conversation filling the air. It was like stepping into a fairytale-if only she didn't feel like the frazzled stepsister. Emily scanned the crowd, searching for James. He'd promised to meet her here, texting her hours ago to hurry up. "James, where are you?" she muttered, weaving through clusters of guests. "Can I help you find someone?" A smooth voice interrupted her thoughts, making her jump. Emily turned to face a man in a sleek black tuxedo, his expression hidden behind a black mask that perfectly framed piercing blue eyes. He radiated confidence, standing tall and composed as though the entire event had been planned for his benefit. "No, thank you. I'm fine," Emily said quickly, trying to sidestep him. "Are you sure?" He tilted his head, studying her like she was the only person in the room worth his time. "You look... lost." "I'm not lost," she said, tightening her grip on her clutch. "I'm just looking for someone." "Lucky him." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. She narrowed her eyes. "I'll be fine, thanks." The man stepped aside with a small bow, as if granting her permission to leave. "Enjoy the evening, mystery woman." Emily barely spared him a glance as she hurried away, heat rushing to her cheeks. Who even talks like that? She pushed him out of her mind, focusing instead on finding James. After a few more minutes of searching, she finally spotted him-or rather, his broad shoulders-in a shadowed hallway off the ballroom. Relief flooded her as she approached, but then she froze. James wasn't alone. His back was to her, his hands wrapped around a woman who was very much not Emily. Her fiery red hair tumbled down her bare back as she leaned into him, their lips locked in an unmistakably passionate kiss. Emily's breath caught in her throat. "James?" He pulled away, turning toward her with wide eyes. "Emily! This isn't-" "Don't," she snapped, her voice shaking. "Just... don't." She spun on her heel and fled, tears threatening to spill as humiliation clawed at her chest. She barely noticed the stares as she pushed through the crowd, desperate for air, for escape-anything to erase what she'd just seen. In her haste, she didn't see him. She collided with a tall, solid figure, stumbling backward, but strong hands caught her before she hit the ground. "Easy there." The voice was familiar, smooth and teasing. Emily looked up and found herself staring into the same piercing blue eyes from earlier. It was him-the man in the tuxedo. "Twice in one night," he said, his hands still steadying her. "Fate, perhaps?" "Let go," she muttered, trying to step away, but his grip was gentle, not holding her captive-just anchoring her. "Not until you catch your breath," he said, his gaze searching hers. "You look like you've seen a ghost." "I'm fine," she snapped, though the wobble in her voice betrayed her. He raised an eyebrow. "You don't look fine." Emily sighed, suddenly too exhausted to argue. "If I tell you I've had the worst night of my life, will you let me go?" His lips curved into a smile, though his eyes softened. "Perhaps. Or maybe I'll take it as a challenge to make it better." Before she could respond, a burst of laughter from a passing couple reminded her they were still in the middle of the ballroom. Heat rose to her cheeks again. "I need to get out of here." He hesitated, studying her, then offered his arm. "Come with me." "What?" "Let me help," he said simply. "I've got a better escape route." Emily wanted to refuse, to hold onto whatever shred of pride she had left, but something in his voice-calm, steady, sure-made her pause. "Fine," she said after a moment. "Lead the way." His smile widened, and he guided her through the crowd, moving with the kind of effortless confidence that made people part for him. She couldn't help but glance at him as they walked, curiosity mingling with the lingering ache of heartbreak. "Do you always rescue damsels in distress?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood. "Only the interesting ones," he replied, glancing down at her. She rolled her eyes but felt the tiniest tug of a smile at her lips. They exited the ballroom and slipped into a quiet corridor. The noise of the party faded, leaving only the soft hum of distant music. "Better?" he asked. "Much," Emily admitted, leaning against the wall. He leaned beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence. "Do you want to talk about it?" "No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "Fair enough." He turned to face her fully, his expression unreadable. "Then how about we stop pretending?" "Pretending?" "Pretending that whatever this is between us isn't worth exploring." Her breath hitched as his meaning sank in. Before she could respond, he closed the space between them, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was both unexpected and electrifying. For a moment, all thoughts of James, of the party, of everything melted away. And then she pulled back, her heart racing. "I don't even know your name." "Does it matter?" he whispered. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hall, and Emily froze, her pulse pounding. "Who's there?" a voice called. Wade's smirk deepened. "Guess the night's just getting started."