CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
LILA
This feels like déjà vu. Except this time, I’m not the same girl who walked into that Halloween party. That night changed everything. The way I feel. The things I want. My future. All of it.
I stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the Heartford Cypher International lobby, admiring Aster’s handiwork once again. But tonight feels different. Because I am different. Back then, I was shy. Insecure. Letting fear call every shot. But now? I feel beautiful. Powerful. Wanted.
I’m no longer hiding who I am. I’ve stepped into her. The woman I always dreamed of being. The skin I used to wish for.
My long hair is pinned and twisted into a high, romantic bun, with soft curls spilling loose around my face.
The bright blonde strands catch the light, glowing against a full face of makeup.
My green eyes shimmer, lined in black, smoked with shadow, and winged with glitter into a fierce cat-eye that commands attention.
Burgundy-red shadow smolders beneath, making the green burn even brighter.
My cheeks glow with a rose-colored shimmer, sculpted and warm.
And my lips are dark red, glossy, and completely unapologetic.
Oh, and the dress? It is beyond anything I imagined. A passionate red, just like the roses I chose for the ballroom. I wanted to stay on theme with the decorations, and Aster had been dying to have this design made. Now that I am wearing it, I am blown away. It’s mesmerizing.
The deep crimson ball gown features a sweetheart neckline that dips into a subtle V, giving my small chest the illusion of curves I do not have. The fitted bodice is refined, cinching at the waist before cascading into a full, flowing skirt with a daring slit that reveals my leg.
But what I love most are the long matching gloves.
They make me feel like I just stepped out of an 1800s royal gathering.
The kind where a man was not allowed to touch your hand without gloves.
And last but not least, a velvet choker hugs my throat, reminding me that I would not mind if a hand took its place tonight.
Kage’s, of course.
I feel regal. Unforgettable.
“Hey, you ready to go up?” Beck asks, his voice edged with concern.
“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” I snap out of my thoughts.
“Good. I want both of you on each arm when we walk in. I want to feel like it is a cinematic moment in a James Bond movie.”
Aster rolls her eyes, placing her arm in his, and I cannot help but laugh. “Wait. I have our masks,” Aster shouts, digging into her bag. “Here it is!” she says, handing me a piece that looks like it belongs in a museum.
The mask is unreal. She is practically my fairy godmother, dressing me up and making me feel like a princess. But this mask says something else. It is not sweet or delicate. It is intoxicating. It draws people in.
Deep crimson velvet forms the base, with delicate black lace curling over the edges like rose vines. Sparkling red crystals trace the mask, catching the light with every turn. At its center, a single crimson gem glows.
It’s dramatic. Enchanting. Dangerous. And somehow… it feels like it was made for me and made for this exact night.
“Holy shit, Aster,” I breathe, my mouth open in shock.
“It felt like you,” she says softly. “You have the biggest heart. That’s the large crimson gem in the center.
It burns with warmth and love, even when you try to hide it.
But there’s another side to you... Something darker.
Untamed. Fierce. That is the black.” She pauses, her eyes searching mine.
“And the crystals… they’re the parts of you you’ve worked so hard to keep intact.
Bright. Unbreakable. Even after everything life has thrown at you… You still shine.”
I can barely speak as I fan my face with both hands, tears pooling in my eyes. “I love you and…”
She cuts me off. “Don’t you dare mess up your makeup! That took Franny two hours!” She starts fanning my face, too.
We laugh as the tears dry up without ruining my foundation. Then she steps closer and places the mask over my face, adjusting the fit gently. We stand there in front of the elevator mirror, staring at our reflections.
“You look beautiful, Lila. And screw Kage. He does not deserve you.”
And for the first time… She is right. He doesn’t deserve me. Beck walks over and places a hand on my shoulder.
“You know… she’s right. He’s my best friend, but honestly?” He shrugs. “I think he’s blinded by his own stupidity. So once again, the offer stands… You can always come join us.” He winks.
I throw up my arms and roll my eyes. “Not this again.” Aster cackles as we step into the elevator.
She presses the button for the 2/3 floor, and for the first time, my watch stays silent.
Surprisingly, my heart isn’t racing. Not from nerves.
Because for the first time in a long time, I know I look good.
No. I look unforgettable. And tonight, I could have anyone I want. I take a deep inhale and slowly exhale.
“All right, guys,” I say, straightening my spine. “Let’s do this damn thing. ”
The elevator doors slide open. Beck steps out first, and we follow. Me on one arm, Aster on the other. The room stills. People freeze mid-step, mid-sip, mid-sentence. The masks may hide our faces, but there is no hiding who Beck Heartford is.
The whispers ripple instantly.
“Is that him?” “That’s Beck.” “Wait, who’s with him?” “Who is she?”
They don’t know who I am. But they will.
We walk through the rose-draped gazebo archway into the ballroom. The doormen swing the grand doors open. A wave of gasps and silence washes over the space like a spell. It feels cinematic.
The string quartet and piano begins playing “Wicked Games,” by The Weeknd. Each note moves with grace. But beneath the beauty, something stirs. A chill that crawls across my skin.
I almost laugh. Why am I not surprised this song is playing.
My whole life has felt like one giant game.
A cruel, beautiful, twisted game. But then, my smile fades.
Across the ballroom, past the soft candlelight and spinning couples, I see him.
Ice blue eyes. Locked on me. Unmoving. Unblinking.
A smirk curls at the corner of the mouth I can see. My stomach drops.
No. No, it can’t be. He wasn’t real. He was just a hallucination… a product of a panic attack. But then I see it.His mask. Black. Custom. Etched in intricate gold roses, exactly like the Phantom from the Halloween party. My breath catches in my throat.
It’s him. He’s here. He’s real. And he’s watching me like he’s been waiting for this moment.The ballroom spins around me, blurred faces and glittering lights melting into the background. But all I see is him. The Phantom.
Frozen in place, I can’t move. I can’t look away. Not from those eyes. Not from that smirk. Not from the mask that haunted my dreams.
This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. And then he tilts his head. Just slightly. Like a dare. Like a game he’s been waiting to play. And before I can even breathe, he disappears into the crowd. But then I hear it. That hum.
A low, haunting melody seeps into my bones. It winds through me like a siren’s song. Gentle. Dangerous. Each note pulls me deeper, wrapping around something I thought I had buried. My breath catches again.
But that hum… it doesn’t belong to him. The Phantom never hummed. That sound... it came from the Red Mask. The one who stalked me in the maze. So why am I hearing it now? Is he here too? The Red Mask? Both of them? Are they together?
My heart stutters. The music coils tighter around my ribs.
My eyes scan the ballroom. I turn in place, dizzy like I’m stuck on a carousel I can’t escape.
Every masked face is a mystery. Every glance, a question.
Every man… could be him. I feel it. The heat.
The pull. He is here. Both of them are. Somewhere in the shadows, watching my every move, playing a twisted game of cat and mouse, waiting for the moment to strike, calling me back into the game.
And just like that, I forget how to breathe. My watch buzzes at my wrist, a jolt against my skin. But this is not fear fueling my pulse. It is adrenaline. It’s the thrill. The chase. And I cannot help myself. I am already lost in it and lost in it with them. Lost in the chase.