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GENEVIEVE
Staring up at the huge estate, I can’t help but feel nerves take flight in my belly. I swallow them back as I turn to find them stepping from the car, and my mouth goes dry for a whole other reason. I saw Gage in his suit, but it has nothing on all four of them stepping from the car in black suits, complete with black shirts, together. Eric’s is open at the top with no tie, Gage’s is unbuttoned as well, Archer’s is buttoned to the top with a bowtie around his neck, and Booker’s is half untucked and casual, but together, they steal my voice.
And my heart.
The music and laughter of the rich drifts into the night air, but it’s the darkness of the thieves before me that transports me to another world. They stop in front of me as I just stare, a greedy voice calling themminein my head.
“Turn around,” Archer demands.
Turning after the hushed command, I shiver as heat pours from his body as a silk and lace mask is pressed to my face. Covering half of my forehead, eyes, and down to my lips, it conceals my identity just like the long, black wig I have on. When I turn back, I see they have secured their masks too. Not their usual ones, as they would stand out too much, but beautiful ones.
Eric has on aPhantom of the Operastyle mask with red decorations that match my dress. His beautiful lips are on display, as is one eye, the other blinking through the mask. Booker has the top of his face covered in a simple white one with a red jewel between the eyes, his lips tilted in a grin. Gage, who already told me he would be the most recognisable from a previous hit, has a full face mask on that makes my heart pound. It looks like silver metal swirling in intricate patterns and webs across the almost square mask, leaving nothing but his eyes visible. Archer’s mask is a glimmering gold, the fig leaf designs arching up across his eyes and into his hair, framing his bright eyes like a lover.
We look like a mismatched band, yet somehow, it works. Their dark suits frame my red dress as I turn around with them standing at my back like my bodyguards when nothing could be further from the truth. It’s me who needs to guard myself, to guard my heart against their slippery fingers that are so intent on stealing it. I’m just another conquest.
But that’s not fair, is it?
Shaking away those thoughts, I step up the marble stairs to the open double doors. The lights beckon us inside. Like I thought, there is no one at the door. They are so certain of their own secrecy, they don’t guard against outsiders. It works in our favour though.
“Here goes nothing,” Booker murmurs.
“Into the glitz of the rich and spoiled,” Gage adds.
“Remember, not everyone here is bad.” I throw him a glare. “Some are good people. Remember why we are here.”
“I remember, baby. Do you?” he purrs, pressing against my back. I turn around, pasting a smile on my face as I re-enter the world I once thought was everything I desired. Now, I realise it’s the men with me and what they represent that I truly desire.
I’m about to betray my past, the people I once called friends, for them, and I don’t feel a hint of regret.
* * *
There is one thing I’ll say about Charles Wentworth—he sure knows how to throw a party. It’s why we all used to attend, despite the fact he is a total lech and misogynist. I hate the way he looked at me and the way he used women, as if he thought he was better than them. His own wife is nothing but a pawn in his game. It’s one of the reasons I gave them his name—to knock him down a peg. They can take control from him, even for a moment, and show him he’s not as invincible as he thinks he is.
The ballroom to the left of the entrance is filled with the elite drinking, talking, and dancing in their designer garb and masks. The sea of unrecognisable faces makes me relax, knowing we will blend in. Some daring drunk couples sneak off for fun or to explore the house, and with this much going on, with so many people acting wanton and carefree, we have nothing to worry about.
The chandeliers are draped with masks and low lights, and there is a live band playing in the corner in their own masks. A jester flips through the masses, and a fire breather can be seen outside through the huge glass doors, which stand open to the back garden, where the partygoers can find tables and food. The walls are decorated with paintings framed in gold. The display of money is normal for these events. It’s gaudy, even though I can appreciate the beauty of it all.
“Fucking hell,” Eric mutters. “Are all the parties like this?”
“Most.” I shrug, feeling uncomfortable.
“No wonder the rich stay rich, but these do look fun.”
“For a while,” I offer truthfully, “until you realise the glitter only hides the same shit you find on the streets. The masks are only another way of hiding their lies.” I turn away and move through the throng, smiling and nodding greetings. I know half of them won’t remember me in a second, too focused on their own selves and the night rather than who is here, unless it serves them. I scan the crowd, spotting Charles to the left, surrounded by people. His booming laugh makes me roll my eyes. There’s a new blonde draped across his arm in a see-through dress, and his own wife is nowhere to be seen, maybe out of the country or just done with his shit.
“Let’s go,” I mutter.
“Not yet,” Eric murmurs, and then my hand is being taken and I’m spun into his arms. He seamlessly leads me into the dancing crowd and pulls me closer, his hand sliding down my bare back to my ass. His other hand takes mine as he starts to spin us. I keep up out of habit, frowning at him as he grins.
“Might as well enjoy these outfits, princess,” he murmurs. “Besides, when will I ever get the chance to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room again?” Spinning me under his arm, he pulls me against his chest again, his arm wrapped around my waist and his mouth by my ear. “With the woman who makes my mind a muddled mess and puts my heart in a chokehold?” he whispers before dipping and spinning me. Swallowing, I watch his expression turn serious as we slow to a stop. “To steal a moment with the woman who makes me want to be more than a thief daring to take her heart and keep it with his own?”
“Eric?” I whisper, unsure what to say as he dips me again, his mouth sliding up my neck as he slowly lifts me until his mouth meets my own in a soft kiss.
“We might be thieves, beautiful, but right now, you’re the one taking our hearts, and none of us want to stop you. We are gladly yours, your masked men, until you don’t want us anymore. You were always more than a jewel, a trophy, to us.” Swallowing, he turns me. “Look at them, Birdie.” My true name makes me jerk. “Look at their jealousy, their greed, and their lack of happiness. I’d rather live one day fully and truly feel every heart-stopping moment with you at my side, than spend a lifetime like them. I never needed money to be happy, but I do need you.” He spins us back into the crowd, where the guys are waiting. With a kiss on my hand, he slips behind Gage as I stare.
My thoughts are a mess, and my heart pounds. Booker takes my hand and pulls me through the masses until I take over and lead them through the side corridor. I need to concentrate, but Eric’s words ring in my head.
Is he right?
