The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife novel Chapter 2
Chapter 2: A Reckless Night with a Stranger
“Absolutely not, Hazel Vance. You are coming with me.” Chloe grabbed my hands firmly, locking eyes with me through our masks. “No more hiding. No more crying over people who don’t deserve your tears.”
I glanced at my reflection again, barely recognizing myself in the shimmering red dress. The golden mask transformed me into someone else—someone bolder, someone who didn’t carry the weight of betrayal on her shoulders.
“One hour,” I conceded. “Then I’m coming back here and drowning my sorrows in ice cream.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” Chloe’s smile told me she had no intention of sticking to that timeline.
The Sterling Masquerade Ball was nothing short of magnificent. The historic Hamilton Hotel ballroom sparkled with thousands of twinkling lights. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowd of masked dancers. Everyone looked mysterious and elegant, swirling around in designer gowns and tailored suits.
“Drink this,” Chloe handed me a flute of champagne. “And that one, too,” she added, pushing another into my free hand after I downed the first.
The bubbles tickled my throat, sending a warm wave through my body. For the first time in months, I felt the tension in my shoulders begin to loosen.
“There’s Mark from accounting,” Chloe waved across the room. “I need to say hello. Will you be okay for a minute?”
“I’m a big girl,” I laughed, already feeling lighter from the champagne. “Go network.”
Left alone, I wandered toward the dance floor. The music washed over me, and I closed my eyes, swaying slightly. When was the last time I’d just let myself enjoy something without overthinking it?
“You look like you could use a dance partner.”
The deep voice startled me. I opened my eyes to find a tall figure standing before me. His black mask covered the upper half of his face, revealing only a strong jawline and sensual lips. What caught my breath, though, were his eyes—an intense violet-blue that seemed to glow beneath his mask.
“I wasn’t planning on dancing,” I replied, surprising myself with my flirtatious tone.
“Plans change.” He extended his hand just as the orchestra transitioned to a slower song. “One dance won’t kill you.”
Something about his confidence made me place my hand in his. He pulled me close, one large hand settling at the small of my back. Heat radiated through the thin fabric of my dress.
“You’re not from around here,” he said, expertly guiding me across the floor. “I’d remember you.”
“Quite confident for someone who can only see half my face.”
His lips quirked into a smile. “The important half.”
The champagne had emboldened me. “And which half is that?”
“The half that’s smiling at me now.”
We moved together as if we’d danced a thousand times before. His hand burned against my back, drawing me incrementally closer with each turn.
“What brings you here tonight?” he asked, his breath warm against my ear.
“Escape,” I admitted, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
“From what?”
“My life.” The champagne had loosened my tongue. “Just for tonight.”
His eyes darkened, pupils dilating behind his mask. “I understand escape.”
The music swelled around us. My head felt light—from the champagne, the spinning, or his proximity, I couldn’t tell.
“I need some air,” I murmured, placing a hand on his chest to steady myself.
Without hesitation, he guided me away from the crowd, down a dimly lit corridor. We stopped near a tall window, moonlight streaming through the glass.
“Better?” he asked, his voice lower than before.
I nodded, my back against the cool wall. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Making me forget,” I whispered.
Something shifted in his expression. In one fluid movement, he stepped closer, crowding me against the wall. “Let me help you forget a little more.”
His lips crashed against mine. The kiss was hungry, desperate. My body responded instantly, arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue slipped past my lips, tasting of expensive whiskey and desire.
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