Lady Dy — The CEO's Mysterious Passion

Diana Cross

The ballroom wasn't completely packed yet.

Costumed guests spilled across the floor, and I was trembling.

I knew I was committing the biggest madness of my life, something that could cost me my job.

But I had to do it. For myself.

I needed something that would allow me, one day, to tell myself I had lived a wild moment.

And perhaps, by the end of tonight, something truly intense.

I was dressed as a 19th-century black widow.

The gown was made of black silk, with a fitted bodice and a wide neckline that left my shoulders bare.

The full skirt had a short train, layered with dark tulle and delicate lace.

I wore long satin gloves and a lace veil attached to a small mask.

The onyx jewelry was subtle: a cameo at my throat and small earrings that shimmered whenever I turned my head.

Of course, they were costume jewelry.

An assistant to an executive's secretary at Valmont & Co. could never afford real gems.

I rented this costume to match my emotional state.

I had just become the widow of a living husband.

"Champagne, miss?" a waiter offered.

I decided to take a glass. One couldn't hurt.

"Thank you..."

I held the glass and began walking through the spacious hall.

I could feel my body trembling from nerves. What was I doing here?

What would I even say to these people? They were all high society.

And I was just a low-level employee.

"You look a little lost. Are you waiting for someone, or looking for someone?"

What. A. Voice.

A tall figure. An impressive build. A striking cologne.

He was dressed as a Venetian Domino.

Over his tailored dark attire, he wore a long black silk cloak.

The sleek cut concealed the rest of his outfit; black gloves and a neck silk completed his understated look.

But the mask was impossible to ignore.

A smooth, black Domino mask fitted perfectly to his face, with a glossy finish along the edges.

The satin ribbons left only his eyes—cold and sharp—visible.

I froze for a moment and, to hide my nervousness, took a sip of my drink.

"No, sir... I mean..." I took a deep breath to steady the tremor in my voice.

"I'm not lost... and I'm not waiting for anyone."

"So you're alone. What is such a stunning woman doing alone at a party like this?"

"Do you work for Valmont & Co.?"

"Yes..." I took another sip of champagne.

I couldn't reveal what I actually did at the company; I'd be thrown out if they realized I was a crasher.

He watched me for a few seconds. I think he noticed my nervousness.

Damn it! I'm going to get caught.

"Would the lovely lady who isn't waiting for anyone grant me a dance?"

He reached for my hand, and I mentally thanked my gloves.

Otherwise, he would have felt how cold and clammy my palms were.

"Yes..." I sounded like an idiot, replying in single words.

I realized that the more I spoke, the more exposed I'd be.

I thought I could just walk in and slip out unnoticed among the crowd.

I just wanted to do something reckless. To feel alive again.

He led me to the main floor where a slow waltz was playing.

One of those melodies that seemed tailored to make time stand still.

Couples glided gracefully, holding each other close, while chandelier light caught the sheen of silk and velvet.

When his arm wrapped around my waist, a jolt of electricity rushed through me.

His gloved hand, firm against my back, guided me effortlessly.

I had to lift my chin to keep up with his rhythm.

I didn't want to show him how completely disarmed I was by his touch.

We spun. My heavy skirt brushed against his legs.

With every turn, his woody fragrance mingled with mine, filling the space between us.

"You look like you want to run," he whispered, far closer than politeness dictated.

"Maybe I do... but not from here."

I tried to keep my tone light, though my voice barely carried.

The eyes behind his mask never broke contact.

I realized that right there, between one step and the next, there was almost no distance left between us.

I had drunk enough champagne to feel weightless, and I wanted to surrender to the moment.

I never imagined I'd get noticed at this ball, let alone by a man like him.

"Let's get out of here."

He took my hand and pulled me through the crowd.

We passed guests dancing and showing off their fine garments and glittering jewels.

"Where are you taking me, sir...?"

"Somewhere we can be alone."

He led me down a staircase toward a sophisticated underground level.

The hallway featured several doors, illuminated by dim red lighting.

He picked one of the doors, unlocked it, and pulled me inside.

The room was pitch black.

Before I could process where we were, he pressed me gently against the closed door.

He whispered against my ear, his breath warm against my skin:

"I need you."

He reached up to untie my mask. I hesitated, but he murmured softly:

"Don't be afraid. I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

I heard him remove his own mask as well.

The darkness kept me from seeing his face clearly.

But his scent and the sheer intensity radiating from him wiped away all logical thought.

The champagne was taking full effect. My God, what am I doing?

"Your perfume is driving me insane..."

He leaned down, trailing soft kisses along my neck and shoulder.

"How much did you drink?"

"I don't want to do anything unless you're completely sure and want this too."

"I'm... not drunk," I managed to say.

That was the last thing I said before his lips captured mine with an overwhelming urgency.

It was a deep, fiery kiss, igniting a passion I didn't even know I possessed.

Our lips moved together, demanding and intoxicating.

"Who are you? Where did you come from?" he asked breathlessly between kisses.

His hands moved to the zipper of my bodice while keeping me pinned close.

"How many hearts have you broken with this perfume and this breathtaking warmth?"

"None so far..."

He unfastened the bodice, his hands sliding over my skin, sending a violent wave of heat straight through my body.

Every touch made my heart race wildly.

The intensity of his touch left me breathless, incapable of reacting as passion consumed us completely.

He stepped back for a brief second to shed his shirt.

Even in the dark, I could feel the intense warmth radiating from his bare skin.

When he pulled me back into his arms, it was pure skin-to-skin contact.

Our mouths locked again in a breathless, hungry kiss.

"I need to feel you," he whispered, his hands sweeping down my hips as he lifted me up against the door.

My arms wrapped tight around his broad shoulders.

"Protection..." I managed to murmur, trying to hold onto a sliver of sanity.

"I've got it covered, don't worry."

Then he pulled me close, filling the empty space between us with a slow, agonizing intensity.

Hearing my soft gasp, he couldn't hold back any longer.

He drove into a powerful, intoxicating rhythm that made the world fade away.

"God, you feel incredible," he rasped against my throat.

He moved with an irresistible pace, alternating between slow, deep thrusts and breathless intensity.

The overwhelming wave of pleasure surged through me, completely uncontrollable.

I surrendered entirely to the sensation, clinging to him as the climax swept through my body.

He gasped softly against my lips, his whole frame trembling as he reached his own release.

We stayed like that for several minutes, completely exhausted.

He held me up, my legs wrapped around his waist, our hearts hammering together.

Covered in sweat, he rested his forehead heavily against my shoulder.

In the quiet darkness, only the sound of our ragged breathing remained.

"I'm going to step into the bathroom for a second," he murmured.

"I'll be right back to help you get dressed and we can talk."

He set me down gently on my feet and walked away.

When he opened the bathroom door, the faint light revealed his back—he was tall, broad-shouldered, and striking.

I stood there alone, processing what I had just done.

If I wanted an adventure, I had just lived the wildest one of my life.

Now I had to figure out how to get out of there.

That man could be a major executive doing business with Valmont & Co.

I was just an insignificant secretary's assistant who had crashed the party.

If I were discovered, I'd lose my job instantly.

I couldn't afford to lose everything. It was unforgettable, but Cinderella needed to leave before midnight.

I began dressing frantically, pulling my dress back together.

Where was my mask?

Fumbling in the dark, I found a mask on the floor, but it wasn't mine. It was his Domino mask.

I didn't have time to keep searching.

I slipped out of the room, using his mask to hide my face as I hurried down the hall.

I needed to leave as fast as possible before anyone saw me.

I would carry the memory of that wild night forever.

And of the Greek god who had given me the most unforgettable night of my life.