The Party of Masks

I stared at myself in the mirror for the tenth time.

This wasn’t me.

It couldn’t be me.

The dark, silky dress Alex had forced into my hands fit too perfectly, hugging my waist and falling to my knees in a soft shimmer. The wig—long, soft waves—kept slipping over one eye. Even the heels, which I swore I’d break my ankles in, somehow matched my skin tone too well.

It was humiliating.

It was uncomfortable.

And worst of all…

I didn’t look half bad.

Alex whistled behind me. “Damn, Zack. If you were born a girl, you would’ve ended the entire school.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, cheeks heating.

He was right, though, and I hated it.

But what bothered me more?

Ambrose.

Because he had won the match.

Which meant I was the one following this stupid bet.

And somewhere, in some corner of that fancy ballroom tonight…

He would see me.

My stomach twisted.

The car stopped.

Music, lights, and laughter spilled from the grand entrance as people in gowns and suits walked inside.

Alex linked his arm with mine dramatically. “Alright princess, let’s make your debut.”

“I swear I’ll drown you someday.”

“You look too cute to kill someone,” he said, unfazed.

We stepped through the golden doors.

The moment I entered, every sound in the ballroom seemed to pause for half a second.

Eyes turned.

Men. Women. Guards. Servers.

All staring at me.

God. Kill me now.

I looked down, cheeks burning red. “Alex… I’m going back.”

He blocked me. “Nope. You walk in, you breathe, you survive the night. And then the bet is done.”

Easy for him to say.

The hall was massive, decorated with velvet drapes and shimmering chandeliers. Business tycoons mingled with politicians, but the ones who caught my eye were the men dressed too sharply, standing too silently—guards with mafia tattoos barely hidden under their sleeves.

Why was Alex’s father invited to this kind of place?

Before I could ask, someone stepped into my path.

A man—roughly my age, tall, dressed in a black suit that fit like it was stitched onto him.

Sharp jawline.

Grey eyes.

A dangerous aura.

He looked at me like he'd discovered something rare.

“Who…” he murmured, “are you?”

My throat dried. “I—I’m nobody—”

“You don’t look like nobody.”

Alex stepped in immediately. “Easy, prince charming. She’s taken.”

WHAT?!

I elbowed him so hard he choked.

But the stranger’s attention stayed on me—eyes darkening, analyzing.

“Interesting.”

He bowed, just slightly.

“My name is James"

Ambrose’s eyes never left James.

The air between them thickened, heavy with unspoken dominance and barely restrained hostility. I stood frozen between them, suddenly far too aware of my own heartbeat. My suppressants felt weak—like paper against fire.

James’s lips curved slightly, not in mockery, but calm confidence.

“I was merely admiring,” he replied evenly. “You seem… intense. Is your concern professional, or personal?”

Ambrose’s jaw tightened. His alpha aura flared just enough to make my knees tremble.

“Very personal.”

Alex, completely unfazed, leaned closer to my ear and whispered, “Wow. I leave you alone for five seconds and you collect powerful men like collectibles.”

“Not helping,” I muttered back.

James turned his attention to Ambrose, unbothered by the tension. “You know,” he said calmly, “crowds like this tend to misunderstand displays of aggression. I’d hate for unnecessary attention to fall on… her.”

Her.

The word sent a strange shiver through me—not discomfort, but shock at how naturally it slipped from his tongue.

Ambrose caught it too.

Something dark flashed in his eyes, but he stepped back half a pace, forcing his aura down. He looked at me then—not angry. Not jealous.

Worried.

“Be careful,” he said quietly, the words meant only for me. “This place isn’t safe.”

Before I could respond, a man in a tailored suit approached James and murmured something into his ear. James listened, nodding once, then turned back to me.

“I hope we’ll speak again tonight,” he said, his gaze lingering longer than necessary. “I’d like to know your name.”

My throat tightened.

“Z–” I stopped myself, forcing a smile. “You’ll have to earn it.”

For the first time, James genuinely smiled.

As he walked away, I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Ambrose watched him go, expression unreadable, while Alex all but vibrated with excitement.

“Oh, this night,” Alex said dramatically, “is going to be fun.”

I had a sinking feeling he was right.

Because somewhere between flashing chandeliers, dangerous alphas, and secrets slipping through my fingers, I knew one thing for certain—

This party had only just begun.

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