The Wintertide Hotel gleamed with the kind of opulence that made your eyes widen and your breath catch a marvel of crystal chandeliers and marble floors. Itwas mydailybattlefield, armed witha duster and a cartfull ofcleaningsupplies, wagingwaragainsteveryspeckofdustthatdaredtosettleonthepolishedsurfaces.
Iknewindeed Thehotel’sannualgatheringforthosewithbankaccountsasvastasoceansanddesiresashiddenasthedepths below Istraightened up, smoothingdownmymaid’s uniform a starkcontrastto the eveninggowns and tailored suits that wouldsoonwaltzthroughthesehalls.
Ireturned to makingbeds withmilitaryprecision, mymind adriftina sea ofwhat-ifs. Iimagined slippinginto a gownthat clungtomelikeasecondskin,myfacehiddenbehindanintricatemask,twirlingaroundtheballroomasanequalamongthose glitteringtitansofindustryandheirstofortunes
MydaydreamswereputonpauseasIcaughtsightofmyreflectioninthemirror hair pulledbackintoano-nonsensebun, eyes that had seenmore dirtybathtubs thanstarlit dances. I let out a little laughat myself; this was myworld, and those dreamswerejustthat fleetingfantasies.
I stumbled back, a hand steadyingme bythe elbow Mygaze traveled upward to meet eyes that weren’t just brownbut a symphonyofamberandmahogany,belongingtononeotherthanCassiusPortman hisnameawhisperedlegendevenamong thoseofuswhoonlyeverglimpsedhimfromafar.Thehandsomebillionairestoodbeforeme,anapologyperchedonmylips beforeIcouldthinkbetterofit.
I hungmyhead, not daringto meet Mr. Portman’s gaze again. I felt small, smaller thanusual like I’d shrunkbeneaththe weight of my boss’s silent reproach Without another word, I sidestepped around them both and rushed off into the encroachingnight,fleeingthesceneofmyclumsiness
The air outside offered little relief as it clungto me like a second skin. The evening’s encounter replayed inmymind a danceofwhat-ifsandcould-have-beens andforamoment,underthewatchfuleyesofstarsjustbeginningtotwinkletolife above,IallowedmyselftoimagineadifferentkindofmeetingwithCassiusPortman.OnewhereIdidn’trunaway.
But dreams were dreams, and reality waited for no one not even for maids who bumped into billionaires at dusk. So I quickenedmypacetowardsthebusstop,leavingbehindfantasiesandwhatmighthavebeenafleetingconnectioninanother life onewhereourworldsweren’tseparatedbyinvisibleyetinsurmountablelinesdrawnbycircumstanceandfortune.
The briskeveningair embraced me as I left the grandeur of the Wintertide Hotel behind, mymind still spinningfromthe collision with Cassius Portman. The city’s hum wrapped around me like a familiar shawl as I made my way home, the cacophonyofcarhornsanddistantchatterastarkcontrasttothesilentreverieI’dbeenlostinmomentsbefore.
Iarrivedatourmodestapartmentjustasthesundippedbelowthehorizon Pushingopenthedoor,Iwasgreetedbythesmell of antiseptic and old books. My father’s cough echoed from his room a constant reminder of his relentless battle with cancer.
Melody’slaughterreachedmyearsbeforeIsawher,asoundasbrightandcheerfulasthedaisiessheoftenworeinherhair She was perched onthe edge ofour tattered sofa, chattinganimatedlywithJosie, who had anuncannyabilityto lightup a roomdespitehershydemeanor.
We moved to Dad’s bedside together, like some kind ofmakeshiftfamilyunitthatlife had stitched together throughshared strugglesandmomentsofjoy.HelookedfrailbeneaththequiltI’dmadehimyearsago,buthiseyestwinkledwiththatsame mischievousglintthatdefinedmychildhood.
AsMelodyandJosiesetaboutwarmingthesoupinourkitchenette,IsatwithDad,recountingtrivialdetailsfrommyday carefully omitting my encounter with Cassius It felt like a secret too delicate to share just yet, a dreamlike moment that belongedonlytomefornow.
MelodyregaleduswithtalesfromherlatestphotographyprojectwhileJosiespokesoftlyaboutherstudies.Theirvisitswere anelixir for Dad’s spirits;Icouldseeitinthewayhis eyes litupandhow heinsistedonsittingupstraighter inbed.They weremybestfriends,anditwarmedmyhearttoseehowclosetheywerewithmyfather.
The nightgrew deep around us, and eventuallyMelodyglanced ather watchwitha reluctantsigh. “I’ve gotanearlyshoot tomorrow,”shesaid,standingandstretching.
Aftertheyleft,ItuckedDadinandkissedhisforehead ournightlyritual beforeretreatingtomyownsmallroom.Aloneat lastwithmythoughts, Ireplayed myencounter withCassius Portmaninmymind’s eye a momentaryescape before sleep claimedmeandwhiskedmeawaytodreamswheremasqueradeballswererealitiesratherthanwistfulfantasies.
Ipickedupmyphone,thumbhoveringover Melody’s name The secretwas toovibranttokeeplockedinside anylonger I tappedoutamessage,myheartracingasIinvitedthemoverforcoffeethenextday Theyneededtohearaboutthisinperson
Mycheeks warmed as I confessed about runninginto Cassius Portman the strengthinhis grip whenhe steadied me, his intoxicatingpresencethatlingeredlikeperfumeonsilk.
The conversation drifted then to other things Melody’s upcoming photo shoot and Josie’s latest paper but part of me remainedattheWintertideHotel,dancinginCassiusPortman’sarmsunderaseaoftwinklinglights.
ThesmellofantisepticandlemoncleanerclungtomyclothesasIsteppedintoourapartment,amodeststructurethathadfelt more like a shelter thana home since Mompassed away. The softmurmur ofthe televisioninthe livingroomwhere Dad restedblendedwiththesoundofChadandRachel’slaughterfromthekitchen
Theirgigglesweremyreprievefromtheweightofresponsibilitythatneverleftmyshoulders.IwishedIcouldjustfreezethis moment asnapshotwheregriefhadn’tyettouchedtheirinnocentworld.
As Chad and Rachel munched on their sandwiches, my mind wandered back to Mom how she’d fill these rooms with laughterandlove.Itwasherabsencethatwasmostpresentineverycorner.
Isighedinwardly;love was replacedbyconvenience andopportunisminour householdsince Laura Johnsonhadtakenher last breath But as long as Dad needed me, as long as Chad and Rachel needed stability, I’d shoulder this life without complaint.
I shookoff the odd sensation, returningto mywork The masquerade ball demanded perfection, and I intended to deliver nothingless As I walked throughthe hotel’s halls, mymind meticulouslychecked off the arrangements the caterers, the musicians,thesecuritydetail.Yet,therewasadisruptioninmyusualfocus.
Her presence was ananomalyinmyworld. Aworld where everythingcould be boughtand everyone had a price. Yether hurried apology had been genuine unpracticed and unrehearsed a stark contrast to the sycophantic smiles that usually surroundedme
Awaiter passed by with a tray of flutes filled with golden liquid. I declined with a gesture; alcohol wouldn’t clear my thoughts.TheywerecloudedbythemaidintheWintertideHotelwhohadunwittinglyunsettledmewithnothingbutaglance andanapology
Aball.Itwasjustaball,butwithlayerslikeanonion,eachonerevealinganotherfacettothosewhobotheredtolookcloser. For me, itwas a necessarycharade a dance ofmasks and money, where everytwirl and dip meantmore fundingfor the housingprojectsthatkeptmeawakeatnight
Ileaned backinmychair, feelingthe leather contour to myform. The view frommywindow was captivating, anendless expanse of lights and life. It was out there, beyond the glass, where mytrue interest lay inthe neighborhoods that were crumbling,inthefamiliesthatwerestruggling.
Ipulledoutanothersheetofpaper,sketchingideasfor theevent Anauctionperhaps?Exclusiveexperiencestobidon all forcharity,ofcourse.Icouldalmostheartheclinkingglassesandfeelthebuzzofexcitementsuchitemswouldgenerate.
But as I poured over lists and plans, her image crept into mymind the maid fromWintertide Hotel. Asmall part of me wonderedwhatitwouldbeliketoseeher thereattheball notinuniformbutinagownthatdidn’thideher figureor her grace
The conversationlapsedintosilence as Stuartconsideredmywords.After a moment,he shiftedgears.“Speakingofmasks andgrandgestures,”heventuredwithahintofmischiefinhistone,“areyoubringingadatetothisillustriousaffair?”
“Yes,”Iconfirmed,feelinganoddmixofdefensiveness andyearningswirl withinme.“Therewas somethingabouther a spark”
Stuartregardedme quietlyfor a momentbefore breakingintoa warmsmile.“Thenperhaps this ball coulduse a bitofthat spark.”
Ichuckled drylyathis suggestion “It’s notas simple as all that” Mymind toyed withthe image ofthe maid inanelegant gown,unmaskedandradiantamongtheseaofpretenders
“Nothingeveris,”Stuartagreedwithaknowinglook.
Wemovedonfromthetopicofdatesanddelvedintologisticaldiscussionsaboutauctionitemsandseatingarrangements but somewhereinthebackofmymindlingeredthelovelymaidandthepossibilityofwhatmightbe
Stuart’sfootstepsfadedintothequietofthecorridor,leavingmealonewithmythoughts.Theofficeseemedtoshrinkaround me, the walls lined withaccolades and degrees thatsuddenlyfeltlike little more thanpaper tokens ofa life meticulously builtonstrategiesandbottomlines
I leaned backinmychair, staringat the ceilingas if it held answers to questions I hadn’t dared to ask. The yearningfor somethingauthenticgnawedatme acravingforaconnectionthatwasn’tcarefullycuratedorsteepedinagenda.Mylifewas aseriesofcalculatedmoves,frombusinessdealstocharityfunctions,eachstepmeasuredagainstrisksandrewards.
Andyet
Istood up abruptly, pacingbefore the window thatoffered a panoramic view ofthe city. Iwatched the cars below weave throughthestreets adizzyingarrayoflivesinmotion andfeltanunexpectedkinshipwiththoseunseendrivers.Wewere allsearchingforsomethinginthechaos,weren’twe?
Ishuffledthroughthestackofblueprintsandreportssprawledacrossmydesk,eachpageatestamenttotheprojectthathad consumed me for the better partofthe year. The developmentplanfor the city’s dilapidated westside wasn’tjustanother notchinmyportfolio;itwas personal. This was where I’d grownup, where everypothole and graffiti-tagged wall was a memoryetchedintomyverybeing.Iowedittothatscrappykidwithtoo-bigdreamstoturnthisplacearound.
Butas Iporedover zoningpermits andenvironmental assessments,myfocus wavered.Apair ofwideeyes framedbydark lashes flickered into my mind’s eye, unbidden yet insistent The maid her name was a whisper in a crowded roomthat somehowechoedlouderthanalltherest
It was absurd. I’d had countless interactions every day, brief exchanges with people fromall walks of life, gold diggers throwingthemselvesatme,yetnoneclungtomelikethisone.Therewassomethingabouther thewaysheheldherselfwith quietdignityevenassheapologizedforastumble,thewayhereyeshadmetmineforjustafractionofasecondtoolong
I shookmyhead, attemptingto dislodge her image and the curious warmththat accompanied it This was not the time for distractions;Ihadanentirecommunitycountingonmetobringthisprojecthome.
ChapterThree
Mila
Thegrandballroomstretchedoutbeforeme,opulentandvast,thechandeliersoverheadaconstellationofshimmeringstars I pushedmycartalongtheplushcarpet,myhands automaticallyreachingfor thepolishandclothtowipedownthegleaming surfaces.The echoes ofmymovements were lonelyinthe cavernous space,a contrasttothe laughter andmusic thatwould soonfillit.
AsIstraightenedarow ofchairs,somethingglintedonthefloorbyasecludedcornertable Curiositytuggedatme,leading me closer. Itwas aninvitationtothe masquerade ball, its goldentrimcatchingthe light,forgottenor droppedinhaste. The cardstockwasheavyinmyhand,embossedwithintricatedesignsthatspokeofexclusivityandelegance.
Afurtive glance around confirmed Iwas alone The silence seemed to hold its breathas Islid the invitationinto myapron pocket,myheartthumpingagainstmyribs Therushofexcitementtingedwithguiltsentawarmflushacrossmycheeks
Back to work, I forced myself to focus on polishing silverware, yet my thoughts fluttered like moths around a flame. I imaginedslippingintoagownthattransformedmefromamaidintoaprincess,amaskconcealingmyidentityas Istepped intothethrongofdancingcouples.
Josie’s eyes danced with the kind of mischief that had always landed us in trouble during our high school years The excitementinhervoicewasascontagiousasayawninaquietroom
Her confidence was a life raftina sea ofdoubt.The partofme thatspentdays scrubbingfloors andnights worryingabout billswantedtodismissthewholeideaasludicrous ButthentherewasCassiusPortman–hispiercinggaze,hisunexpected gentlenesswhenhesteadiedmefromfalling
Mychesttightenedatthememory,andIfoundmyselfyearningfor another encounter,another chancetofeel thatstrangeand exhilaratingconnection.
The mop glided across the polished marble, the lastroomofmyshiftechoingwiththe sloshofwater and myownsteady breaths.Thegrandballroomloomedvastandempty,astarkcontrasttothelifeitwouldsoonhold.
Isteppedintothecooleveningair,myheartalittlelighteratthethoughtofheadinghome.Myphonebuzzedinmypocket a messagefromMelodytellingmetomeetherandJosieatmyplace.Itwasodd;werarelygottogetheronaweekday.
WhenIarrived home, there was anunusual stillness Pushingopenthe door, Ifound Josie and Melodyinthe livingroom, grinsaswideastheskyitselfplasteredontheirfaces.
Josie chimed in, her voice tremblingwithexcitement “We couldn’tletyoudreamaboutthatball withoutdoingsomething aboutit.”
The dress was breathtaking a cascade offabric thatpromised to transformanygirl into a princess. Ireached out, fingers tremblingastheybrushedoversilkthatfeltlikewhisperedpromises.
Withtears prickingatthe corners ofmyeyes,Iclutchedthe dress tomychest a royal blue beaconamidstmycinder-gray world.Gratitudeswelledwithinmeuntilitoverflowed.
Ishuffledintothecrampedspaceofourlivingroom,feelingtheday’sweightliftasJosieandMelodydescendeduponmelike fairy godmothers in a modern-day fable They ushered me away fromthe reality of scrubbed floors and starched linens, pushingmegentlytowardanightoffantasy.
Istepped into the gown, the material huggingeverycurve I’d grownaccustomed to hidingbeneathmyuniform The fabric whispered against my skin as it fell into place, transforming me froma maid into someone who might belong among the glitterati,ifonlyforanevening.
Alaughbubbled up fromwithinme a mixture ofdisbeliefand sheer joyattheir words. The gloves came next, sheer and delicate, slippingover myarms like whispers ofsmoke Iflexed myfingers, marvelingathow theytransformed myhands fromtoolsoflaborintoinstrumentsofgrace
Finally, Ifaced the mirror, mybreathcatchinginmythroat. The womanstaringbackatme bore traces offamiliarity the slopeofhernose,thecolorofhereyes butshewasenshroudedinanallurethatfeltaltogethernew.Thedresspaintedherin confidence,theglovesspuntalesofmysteryandallure ThisMilalookedlikeshecouldcommandanyroom,holdanygaze
And for once, gazing into that mirror at the reflection of someone I both knew and didn’t know at all, I believed it. The promise of what lay ahead shone in my eyes a hope for laughter and maybe even a dance beneath the chandeliers of WintertideHotel’sgrandballroom.Maybeevenwithhim…CassiusPortman.
I tooka deep breathand let it out slowly, groundingmyself inthis transformation For tonight at least, I wasn’t just Mila Johnson,maidatWintertideHotel Iwasawomansteppingintoadreamsheneverdaredtohavebefore.
“This is for you,” she said,her voice imbuedwitha note ofceremonyas she handedme the mask.Itwas a masterpiece of feathersandcrystals,woventogetherwithsuchcarethatitseemedaliveinmyhands.Iranmyfingersoveritssurface,tracing
Our glasses clinked a crystalline song and we drank The bubbles danced on my tongue as we shared this moment of solidarity;threewomenontheprecipiceofaneveningthatfeltlikeithadbeenpluckedfromfairytales
Witheachstep into that opulent foyer, myold world the endless workdays and heavyresponsibilities fell awaylike a discardedcloak Tonight,Iwasrebornunderamasquerade’sforgivingguise Evenifjustforthenight,thisworldofgrandeur wasminetoclaim.
ChapterFive
Mila
The plushcarpetbeneathmyheels muffled mysteps as Icrossed the threshold into the ballroom Ipaused, lettingthe door close softlybehindme,andinhaleddeeply.Ablendofexpensive perfumes andthe subtle hintofwaxfrompolishedfloors tickled mysenses. Strings ofdelicate music notes floated throughthe air, wrappingaround me like a lover’s whisper. My heartthrobbedinmychest,eachbeatamixofnervousnessandthrill.
Sippingthe effervescentliquid, Iletitemboldenme further. Here inthis grand room, no one knew Mila Johnsonthe maid; theyonlysawamysteriouswomaninroyalblue.EachstepfeltlighterthanthelastasifIwassheddinglayersofmyworn-out dailyselfwitheveryinchImovedacrossthefloor
Thelaughter,themusic,itallswirledintoamelodythatbeckonedmetoforgetwhoIwasoutsidethesewalls.Theopulence enveloped me a dreamspunfromthreads of moonlight and stardust. As I twirled under the light, laughter escapingfrom deepwithinme,Icouldn’thelpbutbelieveinthisenchantment.
Fortonight,justforthesefewhours,Iwasn’tjustMila;Iwaspartofsomethingethereal acharacterfromthosestoriesmy motherusedtowhisperbeforebed.Andastheroomspungentlyaroundmewitheachturnonthedancefloor,realityslipped awaylike sand throughopenfingers. Here, under this spellbindingdome ofsplendor and masquerade, Idanced not as a maidorcaretaker butasawomantouchedbymagic’sgrace.
Ileaned againstanornate pillar, its cool marble surface groundingme as Iobserved this other world Itwas like peering througha window into a life where worryabout bills and responsibilities was as foreignas the designer labels adorning everyguest.Theirconcernswereofadifferentsort politics,businessmergers,andvacationplanstoexoticlocales.
The veryfabric oftheir existence was wovenwiththreads ofprivilege and ease Eachpersonmoved withanunconscious assurancethatlifewouldcontinuetounfoldfavorablyforthem Andwhywouldn’tit?Intheirworld,everydooropenedwith asmileorahandshake,notwiththewornkeyofawearymaidwhoknewonlylaborfromdawntilldusk.
I watched as couples took to the dance floor, moving with a grace I could only dream of emulating. Their steps were rehearsed,perfectedbyyearsoflessonsandgalaslikethisone.Istoodontheperiphery,mybackpressedtothecoolmarble astheyspunpastmeintheirfinery
YetevenasIponderedtheirforeignlives,myfeettappedtotherhythmofthemusic Itflowedthroughme,invitingmetoshed myinvisible shackles for justone evening.The masquerade maskfeltless like a disguise now andmore like permissionto dream adoorwayintoarealmwhereIwasn’tMilaJohnson,maidextraordinaire,butsomeoneelseentirely.
For a moment,Iclosedmyeyes andletmyselfswayslightlywiththe music Iimaginedwhatitwouldbe like tobe one of them tobelookeduponwithadmirationrather thaninvisibility;toknow thatwhenIspoke,mywordswouldbeheardnot becausetheyweredemandedbutbecausetheyweredesired.
Mybreathcaught as our gazes locked It was him, the manwho had steadied me withsuchunexpected gentleness whenI collidedintohisworldjustdaysbefore Myhearthammeredagainstmyribcage,echoinginmyearslikeafranticdrumbeat
His presence commanded the space around himwithanease thatspoke ofpower and certainty. Evenbehind his mask, his features were set in a way that made him appear both imposing and impossibly handsome a stark contrast to the vulnerabilityIfeltunderhisscrutiny
Yetasoureyesremainedlocked,somethingshiftedwithinme astrangeexhilarationthatbubbleduplikechampagnefizz It was as if he saw me truly saw me not as Mila Johnson, burdened with care and responsibility, but as this enigmatic womanIhadtransformedintoforthenight.
The anonymity of the masquerade suddenly felt like a double-edged sword; I was exposed yet concealed, vulnerable yet empowered. Witheverysecond thatpassed under Cassius Portman’s gaze, Ifelta daringrise withinme the desire to be knownbythismanwhilestillshroudedinmystery
The weightofCassius Portman’s stare lingered onme like the brushofvelvet, unmistakable yetintangible. Ishookoffthe flutteringnerves inmystomach, remindingmyselfthatIwas justanother masked face amongthe glitteringthrong. Iglided throughthecrowd,myheartkeepingpacewiththerhythmicpulseofclassicalmusicthatfilledthegrandballroom
I offered hima smile that felt like it could light up the chandeliers above us. “Yes, and it’s even more enchanting than I imagined,”Ireplied,mywordsweavingthroughthestrainsofaviolin
We talked about trivialities the weather, the music, the decadent decorations as if we were old friends rather thantwo strangers cloaked inanonymity. Eachlaugh, eachgesture ofmyhand was anactofdefiance againstmyowntrepidation. I reveledinthisgameofpretense;foronce,mylifewasasgrandasthetalesspuninstorybooks.
I excused myself fromthe conversationwitha grace I didn’t know I possessed and drifted toward a table sparklingwith crystalflutesfilledwithchampagne.Thegoldenliquidbeckonedlikeliquidstars.Ipickedupaglass,itscooltouchagainst myfingersgroundingme.
The bubbles danced to the surface, burstingwitha softhiss a symphonyinminiature Witheachsip, their taste lifted me higher into this world of fantasy My laughter came easier now; it bubbled up from deep within, genuine and free The champagnewasn’tjustadrink itwasatoasttolifebeyondscrubbingfloorsanddustingshelves.
As Imingledwithother guests,Icaughtglimpses ofCassius Portmanthroughmyfeatheredmask.His eyes heldme intheir silentqueryacrossthecrowdedroom.Itwasdisconcertinghowheseemedtoseethroughmydisguisewhennooneelsedid.
As she spoke with other guests, her laughter genuine and unforced, I found myself intrigued Her mannerisms carried a sincerityabsentfromeveryone else’s rehearsed cordiality She didn’tposture or preenfor admiration;instead, she seemed contenttosimplyexistwithinthewhirlwindofrevelryaroundher.
Theballroomspuninawhirlofcolorandnoise,butmyeyeskeptfindingtheirwaybacktoher Shewasamysterywrapped inroyalblue,afigurewhobothbelongedtothenightandstoodapartfromit.Icouldn’tshaketheintrigue,thissensethatshe was someone I should know, yet she defied placement in the mental catalog of guests I kept. She moved with a quiet confidencethatseemedatoddswiththeboisterousposturingoftheothers.
She laughed a sound that cut through the ambient hum of conversation and I felt an unexpected pull, an interest that extended beyond mere curiosity There was somethingabouther laugh;itwas real, untainted bythe usual undercurrents of theseevents.Shewasn’tsimplyanotherattendeeadornedinfinery;shebroughtsomethingtothisballthathadbeenmissing.
Witheverytickofthe clock,mycuriositygrew until itbecame a force Icouldnolonger ignore.The glass ofScotchinmy handnowseemedmorelikeananchorthanacomfort Itwastimetosetitaside,timetobridgethegapbetweenourseparate worlds
We stood there amid the swirling dance of guests and gaiety, yet it all seemed to fade into insignificance around us. Her presencehadanundeniablegravitythatpulledmeawayfrommyusualorbit
She hesitated for a moment, her gaze flittingaround the ballroombefore settlingbackonme. Thenshe placed her hand in mine,hertouchsendingacurrentupmyarm Withcarefulsteps,Iledherontothedancefloor
The dance was a conversationwithoutwords;eachstep and turncommunicated more thananydialogue could convey She followedmyleadeffortlesslyasifshewasmadeforthis todanceherewithmeunderthesechandeliers.
As we continued to dance, there was an undeniable connection a magnetic pull that neither distance nor silence could diminish.JustMilaandIlostinadancethatspokevolumesmorethananysharedhistoryevercould.
The champagne flute feltcool inmygrasp, the goldenliquid bubblingwithsecrets yetto be told. Mila held her glass, the sparkles reflectinginher eyes as she tooka delicate sip. I mirrored her action, the crisp taste minglingwitha newfound warmth that bloomed within me. We stood side by side, occasionally exchanging glances that sparked with silent conversation
Icouldn’thelp butpushfor more information, the mysterywas like anitchIcouldn’tscratch. “So, Mila,” Ibegan, leaning closertoherunderthepretenseofraisingmyvoiceovertheorchestra’screscendo.“WhatbringsyoutotheWintertideball? It’snoteverydayyouseesomeoneso…captivatingamongtheusualcrowd.”
She tilted her head, a cascade of laughter escaping her lips before she replied “Let’s just say I’mhere to experience a differentsliceoflife.”Heranswerwasvaguebutlacedwithanallurethatonlydrewmeinfurther.
Shemetmygaze,aplayfultwinklelightinguphereyesasshetookanothersipfromherglass “Mr Portman,”shesaidwith mocksternness, “aren’tthere rules to these masquerades? Some things are meantto be kepthiddenbehind the mask.” Her smilewasachallenge,adanceofitsownthatbeckonedmetojoin.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her defiance It was frustrating yet undeniably tantalizing this game of cat and mouse we seemedtohavefalleninto “Fairenough,”Iconcededwithanexaggeratedbow “Themysteryshallremain fornow”
Asthenightprogressed,Mila’sallureonlyintensified.Thewaythelightplayedoffherroyalbluegown,howsheconversed withpoise and a hintofhumor itall served to deepenmyfascination. Her laughter was like music, drawingme inevery timeitbubbledforthfromherlips.Shewasanenigmawrappedinsilkandfeathers,apuzzlethatbeckonedmetosolve.
Theballroomswirledaroundme,akaleidoscopeofcolorsandmaskedfaces,butallIcouldfeelwereCassius’seyeslocked ontomine.Acurrentofawarenesssizzledthroughtheair,tetheringustogetheramidsttheseaofpeople.Icouldn’treconcile this man, this god of a man, the hottest forty-year-old billionaire on the planet,who had merely steadied me in the hotel corridorwithatouch,nowseekingmeoutinaroomfullofglitteringguests.Itwaslikebeingcaughtinawhirlwind,onethat liftedmefromthepolishedfloorsandspunmeintoanorbitwhereonlyweexisted
Iletoutabreathlesslaugh,giddywiththechampagnefizzingthroughmyveinsandtheintoxicatingthrillofhisproximity The music’s rhythmwas a heartbeatthatechoed myown fast, erratic, full oflife The roomfeltcharged withpossibilityas if everynoteplayedforusbeckonedmetodreambigger,bolder.
Cassius led me across the dance floor withaneffortless confidence thatmade me forgetabouteverythingbutthe moment. “You’refullofsurprises,”hemurmurednearmyear,hisbreathwarmagainstmyskin
In that bubble of time and space created by masquerade magic and champagne bubbles, I allowed myself to indulge in fantasies I’d never dare voice aloud fantasies where Cinderella didn’tvanishatmidnightbutdanced until dawnwithher Prince Charming And for a fleeting moment a heartbeat in an endless night I believed in fairy tales and happily ever afters.
Asthemusiccontinuedtoplay,Cassiusledmetoasmaller,privatesittingroomjustoffthemainballroom.Itwasadorned withelegantfurnitureanddimlighting,paintingaromanticpicturethatIhadonlyeverseeninmovies Wesatdown,andthe air was thickwithanticipationas our eyes locked oneachother Ifeltoutofmydepth, yetstrangelyatease withhim He seemedgenuinelyinterestedineverythingIhadtosay,anditfeltgoodtobethecenterofattentionforonce.
Cassius chuckled, the sound rich and enticing “Indeed,” he conceded, lowering his hand but not his gaze “But there’s somethingmaddeningaboutapuzzlejustbeggingtobesolved”
Heregardedmewithanew level ofrespectmixedwithhisclear desire acocktail thatmadehimevenmorealluring But there was also frustrationthere; a manused to gettingwhat he wanted, now faced witha challenge that wouldn’t bend so easily.
As Cassius’s lips met mine, a surge of electricity coursed through my body. His kiss was passionate and intense, and I respondedwithequalfervor Ourtonguesdancedtogether,exploringeachother’smouthsinawaythatleftmebreathless His handsroamedovermybody,tracingthecurvesofmydressandmakingmeshiverwithdesire
The intensityofthe momentcaughtmybreath, and Ilostall sense ofreasonas we continued to kiss. Myheartraced inmy chest,andtheheatrisingbetweenus.Itwasasifweweretwohalvesofawholefinallycomingtogether,fittingperfectlyinto eachother’sarms
As our passiongrew more intense, Cassius’s hands beganto explore more boldly, slidingunder the edges ofmydress and caressingtheskinofmyback.Thesensationwaselectric,sendingshiversdownmyspineandmakingmemoansoftlyintohis mouth.
The thrum of my pulse became a symphony, each beat a note that harmonized with the seductive music enveloping us. Cassius’stouch,asiren’scall,threatenedtoluremeintounchartedwaters Hislips,demandingandsoftallatonce,promised rapture Andyet,asourpassionmounted,Iclungtotheonethingthatshieldedmefromcompletelycapsizingintohisworld themask.
Itwasn’tjustapieceoffabric;itwasmyfortress,safeguardingthelifeIknewfromthetantalizingwhispersofwhatcouldbe. His hands roamed withanownership thatbothscared and exhilarated me, buttheyhalted atthe edges ofmymaskas ifhe understoodthesilentdecreeitrepresented
His eyes flickered with a blend of frustration and respect. “I wouldn’t dream of unveiling you before you’re ready,” he murmuredagainstmyskin,hislipstrailingapathdownmyneckthatseteverynerveendingablaze
her fairytale evenifonlyfor the night His hands might explore the curve ofmywaist and the dip ofmyback, yet they pausedattheribbontiesofmymask,acknowledgingthelineIhaddrawn.
Ibroke our kiss, lookinginto her eyes, tryingto gauge her reaction. She smiled atme, her eyes smiling, invitingme back. Returning her invitation, I pressed my lips to hers again, this time more forcefully, passion rising within me Her hand caressedmycheek,fingerstanglinginmyhair
My fingers captured the zipper in the back of the dress and slowly moved it down. She didn’t protest and accepted my invitation.Herimpatientfingersfumbledwithmybelt.
Our passionbuilding, myhand traveled downher neck, grazingher collar bone, movingslowlyacross her chest Mypalm cupped her breast, capturing her taut nipple between my thumb and forefinger, I rolled it softly She gasped, her body responding,archingherback,pressingherbreastintomyhand.
Her nipplehardenedinmymouth,her handgraspingthebackofmyhead,pressingmetoher.Myfingers replacedmylips, gently squeezing and rolling her nipple as my lips continued their journey. Kissing my way down her stomach, my hands caressedherfirmass.
