Beneath the Mask

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breath, feeling the weight of the mask settle against my skin, grounding me in a way that almost felt liberating. Here, as Clara,

spell by fans, binding me to the crowd's adoration. I closed my eyes briefly, letting the thrill of it all rush through me. Underneath

filled the VIP section. Executives, celebrities, and wealthy socialites all sat in hushed admiration, lean

Blac

t blank for a moment. I tried to keep my face composed beneath the mask, but a wave of panic welled up inside me. Of all peo

ed, though his gaze was darker, less admiring and more... appraising. James and Anth

t look many times at work-always calculated, cold, and dissecting every flaw. But here, it was different. It was almo

raced. I needed to leave. I couldn't let him get a

ing my name even louder, and I gave a slight bow, careful to keep my head low. When I straightened, I saw James risin

ickly, heading backstage, but I could already hear the whispers from the club st

raightened my back and willed myself to stay calm. He doesn

cked onto me again, sharp and calculating. He held out a pen

hands shake. "Of course," I replied, my voice low and steady. The mask provided a laye

ou." His voice was soft, but there was a command in his tone. He

any hint of recognition in my eyes while I tried deepening my to

mile touching his lips. "There's something familiar about you,"

it," I replied smoothly, praying my voice wouldn't gi

suspicious glint in his eyes. "Interesting," he

ve it at that. But instead, he leaned in cl

e it

pped a beat.

softer, almost coaxing. "I w

wed," I replied, trying to keep my tone light but firm. While I kept

eyes narrowing. "Why the secrec

at made my heart race in panic. He was too close, too curious. I felt as though

replied, forcing a playful smile. But

presence. "Maybe," he said, his voice smooth, "but I don't bel

to get out of here. The tension between us felt like a live

lity into my voice as I moved to step away. But before I could

something I couldn't decipher. "You seem familiar, whe

was firm. "Please," I said softly, my voice falte

luctantly, he released my wrist, watching as I took a step back. His eyes held a glint of intrigue, mixed wit

voice softer this time, more to

urning into my back, as if he were memorizing every step I took. And for one terrifying, thrilling moment, I was certain

asping for air, and heard a murmur from the club sta

Black