CHAPTER 2 : THE MASKED BALL

Stepping out of the private jet, I inhaled deeply. Italy smelled fresh, warm air brushed my skin, and my hair whipped across my face from the breeze.

“Home sweet home,” Red beamed behind me. Technically, we were both Italian, well, she was. I was half-Russian, half-Italian. Madam Santos’ underground estate was tucked away on a remote Swiss island, far from chaos. We didn’t get to leave often, unless it was for a mission or high-stakes work.

“Come on,” I said playfully. “We’ve got a party to crash.”

Red rolled her eyes and sauntered past me toward the sleek black SUV waiting for us. We were driven straight to the villa Madam Santos had prepared, lavish, discreet, and crawling with hidden security.

~

A few hours later, I stood in front of a mirror, adjusting the golden tiger mask on Red’s face.

“I think the tiger works better for me,” she said matter-of-factly, admiring herself.

“It does. Now go get dressed. I’m tired of you flashing me… those pair of wonders” I smirked.

“I know you like the view,” she winked, disappearing into the dressing room.

I turned to the blood-red ballroom gown laid out on the bed. As much as I hated to admit it, I was nervous. Tonight, I’d come face to face with the man who turned my life into ash. The man I’d trained for five years to kill. And I didn’t know how I’d feel.

A knock on the door.

“Ladies, thirty minutes,” the butler’s voice came softly from behind it.

“Noted,” I replied.

~

The air was crisp. The sun had fallen. I stepped out of the car in a storm of red satin and black heels. My mask clung delicately to my face, highlighting the strange duality of my eyes, one blue, one the color of molten green. Madam Santos once called it walking seduction. I just called it a weapon.

I didn’t look like my sister at all, and i always covered my eyes with brown lenses in sixth grade after I was bullied a lot so I was totally unrecognizable.

“You’re such a pretty little thing,” Red muttered beside me. Her gown was dramatic, half black, half blood-red, with a slit that screamed danger.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I replied as we approached the towering estate.

“What’s the plan?”

“Simple,” I said. “Get close. Play innocent. Stained Men love innocent girls.”

“You charm him. We’ll sweep the room.” Red nodded, already slipping into character.

“Good evening, madams,” the man at the entrance smiled politely. “Names, please?”

“Skye Alexandra,” I answered.

“Juliet Salvatore,” Red said right after.

He found our names on the list and stepped aside with a bow.

“Welcome. Enjoy the night.”

As we entered the grand ballroom, heads turned. Eyes followed. I could feel the weight of their jealousy, their curiosity.

“Oh, I could feed off the envy in these old women’s eyes,” Red whispered.

I chuckled. “We have bigger things to feed on.”

A waitress approached, offering us champagne. “A gentleman from the crowd sends his regards.”

Red raised an eyebrow. I smiled but didn’t drink. As the room filled and laughter echoed under golden chandeliers, I could feel it, him. Someone was watching me.

Not just looking. Watching.

A low-level politician I recognized approached me with a rehearsed smile. “May I have this dance?” he asked, offering his hand.

I took it, letting him lead me onto the floor. His grip was weak, his questions forgettable. I flashed soft smiles, drawing out trivial information.

But then I felt it again.

That gaze. This time it felt closed off.

I looked up, and found him across the room. Nikolaus Volkov. Tall. Sharp. Dangerous. Our eyes locked. My chest burned. He wore a mask but I will be damned not to know when it’s him.

He walked toward us, the crowd parting instinctively.

“May I?” he asked, his voice low, velvety. The hairs on my body stood.

My partner stammered, stepped aside.

Weak.

Just like that, I was in his arms.

I could only see his corrupt green eyes from the mask he wore.

The music slowed. Our bodies swayed together. Close enough to feel the heat between us. Too close to hide my beating heart.

His fingers grazed my waist. “You look familiar,” he murmured, gaze locked on mine. “What’s your name, love?”

“Guess?”

“Annabelle?”

My heart stopped. My sister’s name on his lips.

I forced a smirk. “Close… but not quite.”

His eyes narrowed. Curious. Hungry.

Then he leaned in, whispering a line I hadn’t heard in five years. A line my sister once described to me in terrified tears.

“You smell like fire and blood. Like a woman worth burning for.”

Rage flashed behind my smile. My fingers twitched. I could see it, his blood on my hands. Right here. Right now.

But then,

“Hey!” Red’s voice broke through the moment.

I blinked, pulled back. My smile returned, hollow and sweet.

“Thanks for the dance, Stranger.”

I curtsied and slipped away into the crowd, his eyes burning a hole in my back.

I slipped away from the ballroom, my breath tight in my chest.

Something about that man, his voice, his presence, screamed danger.

The kind of danger you never walk away from.

The kind I’d loved… ever since he broke me.

“Dancing with the devil, huh?”

Red’s voice pulled me back to earth. She caught up, slightly breathless but grinning.

“Where were you?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation.

“While you were playing princess charming, I was scouting the east wing. Fewer guards, but too many discreet cameras. Aubrey’s working on a temp disconnect, we’ve got about ten minutes max.”

“Split up,” I said, activating the small comm in my ear.

She nodded and vanished down the opposite corridor.

I headed left.

~

The hallway was dim and silent, lit only by golden sconces and the occasional flicker of moonlight through arched windows. My heels barely made a sound on the marble floor as I trailed past shut doors, counting, memorizing.

I stopped when I found it, a quiet lounge at the far end, barely lit by a few low candles and a chandelier that cast fractured light across velvet furniture and mahogany walls.

The door was ajar. I slipped in.

And froze.

Fuck,

He was already there.

Leaning back on a dark leather sofa, legs casually crossed, a tumbler of scotch in one hand. Like he owned the entire world, and maybe he did.

He didn’t startle.

In fact, he smiled. Still wearing his mask.

“Well,” his voice curled low, smooth as aged whiskey, “They finally sent something worth unwrapping.”

I blinked.

He thought I was a gift.

A plaything.

Someone sent to entertain him for the night.

I almost laughed.

But instead, I tilted my head and let my lips curl, just slightly.

“Is that what you think I am?” I asked.

He stood, slow and deliberate, setting his glass down with a soft clink. He walked toward me, unhurried, every inch a predator.

“That dress. That mask. You’re not staff, Love.”

He circled me once, eyes burning through every inch of red silk clinging to my body.

“Obviously…”

“Well, well…” his voice curled through the air like smoke. “And what are you doing in the lion’s den, little red?”

I could have left. Should have.

Instead, I stepped inside.

“Maybe I’m the one who came to tame you,” I said, voice soft, laced with challenge.

He chuckled darkly, standing slowly, predator-smooth. “You don’t look like the taming kind. More like a pretty little trap.”

“Don’t give me ideas” I scoffed, biting my lips as I fidgeted a little.

“Taming me would cost you everything.”

He moved toward me, unhurried. His eyes never left mine.

He reached out, brushing his fingers along my bare shoulder.

The exact way my sister once described, like he was testing the temperature of fire he already planned to burn in.

My breath caught. My fury flared beneath my skin like gunpowder.

For one insane second, I saw myself driving a blade into his throat.

But instead, I smiled.

“I… I… I’m sorry,” I said, voice stuttering, eyes unreadable. “I believe I’ve made a mistake. I was looking for someone else’s suite.”

He didn’t move. But his eyes flickered, reading me deeper now.

The heat between us had shifted.

From seduction… to suspicion.

I turned for the door.

“Wait,” he said behind me, and I paused.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near growl. “At least tell me your name.”

I paused at the door, glancing back with a coy smile.

“I prefer to stay unknown.”

“But you look like a man who could find out such information without being told. Goodnight, stranger.”

Then I vanished into the hall, before I made a mistake I couldn’t undo.