Chapter 10 – Lessons in Masks
1465 Words
Cassie sat before the full-length mirror in the dressing suite, her reflection swallowed in a gown of deep emerald silk that Elise had chosen for her. The fabric hugged her waist, cascading into folds that shimmered faintly when she moved. A stranger stared back at her from the glass—poised, elegant, expensive.
And nothing like the girl from the cramped apartment with peeling paint and a sick brother who depended on her.
Elise circled her like a hawk, sharp eyes missing nothing. “Shoulders back. Chin high. Don’t fidget.” She adjusted Cassie’s posture with a light press to her shoulder blade. “You’ll be scrutinized from the moment you step out of the car. Wealthy men and women can smell insecurity. Do not give them the satisfaction.”
Cassie swallowed, trying to hold the pose. Her spine ached within seconds.
“You make it sound like war,” she muttered.
Elise’s lips twitched, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “It is.”
---
The lesson stretched on. Elise drilled her on greetings, small talk, even how to laugh without showing too much teeth. Cassie tried, she really did, but the constant corrections frayed her nerves.
“Again,” Elise ordered.
Cassie forced another practiced smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“No. Less warmth. These people aren’t your friends.”
Cassie exhaled through her nose, trying not to snap. Elise had been nothing but loyal to Lucien—but sometimes it felt like she resented Cassie for simply existing.
At last, Elise stepped back. “Better. At least you won’t embarrass him.”
The words stung more than Cassie wanted to admit.
---
Later, when Elise left to fetch jewelry, Cassie sagged into the chair, her shoulders aching from the rigid posture. Her phone buzzed against the vanity.
Her heart leapt. Eli?
But when she turned it over, her stomach dropped.
Unknown number: “You deserve the truth. Tonight. 11pm. Pier 17.”
Her fingers tightened around the phone, pulse hammering in her ears. It was the same number as before—the stranger who claimed Lucien was lying.
She should delete it. She should ignore it. Nothing good could come from meeting someone who lurked in shadows, whispering warnings.
And yet… she couldn’t forget the look in Lucien’s eyes when she asked if everyone was a threat. The way he shut down instead of answering. The secrets in his world were pressing against her skin, and this message dangled like a key to unlock them.
Cassie bit her lip, staring at her reflection. Who was she kidding? The girl in the emerald gown didn’t belong in Lucien’s kingdom. Maybe the stranger could give her a way out—or at least, the answers Lucien refused to share.
---
The sound of measured footsteps snapped her back. Lucien’s reflection appeared behind her, commanding even without trying.
His gaze slid over her in the mirror, slow and assessing. Cassie’s breath caught.
“Not bad,” he murmured. “Though you’re holding yourself like prey.”
She stiffened. “Maybe that’s because I feel like prey.”
His eyes darkened, a flicker of amusement—or was it warning?—crossing his features. “Then stop. You’re not prey, Cassie. Not if you’re mine.”
The words curled through her like heat, leaving her unable to form a reply.
Lucien stepped closer, his hand brushing her shoulder briefly—so brief it could’ve been imagined—before he turned and walked toward the door.
“Dinner is at seven. Don’t be late.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving the air crackling behind him.
---
Cassie exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her chest. She hated how her pulse betrayed her whenever he looked at her that way.
She told herself it was fear. She told herself it was confusion.
But the truth was harder to admit.
Because part of her was starting to want the man she was supposed to fear.
And part of her was still tempted to meet the stranger at the pier.
The dining room of Lucien’s penthouse felt more like a throne room than a place to eat. A long obsidian table stretched the length of the space, candles flickering in crystal holders, their glow soft against the polished stone. Cassie hesitated in the doorway, clutching the clutch bag Elise had pressed into her hands.
Lucien sat at the head of the table, already in a suit, his posture composed and regal. He didn’t rise when she entered—he didn’t need to. His presence filled the room all on its own.
“Sit,” he said, voice low but commanding.
Cassie obeyed, her heels tapping lightly as she slid into the chair to his right. A server appeared almost instantly, setting plates before them. Steak, wine, roasted vegetables—all things she couldn’t afford even in her dreams.
For a moment, the only sound was the clink of cutlery. Cassie tried to focus on the meal, but her thoughts kept circling back to the message glowing on her phone. Pier 17. Tonight.
Lucien’s voice cut into her spiral. “You’ve been distracted all evening.”
Cassie froze, nearly dropping her fork. She forced a smile. “It’s just nerves. Elise’s lessons nearly broke my spine.”
A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. “She can be… relentless. But she’s right. Appearances will make or break you in that room.”
Cassie bristled. “And what if I don’t care about appearances?”
Lucien’s gaze sharpened, pinning her in place. “Then you’ll care about survival. The two are the same in my world.”
Her heart thudded, his words chilling and true. But beneath his steel, she thought she caught a flicker of something else—warning, maybe even… protection.
---
The server poured red wine into her glass. Cassie lifted it, letting the rich scent of oak and berries drift upward. Across the table, Lucien watched her like she was another contract to assess.
“You don’t drink much,” he said.
She took a small sip, letting it burn her throat. “I don’t usually have the luxury.”
His jaw tightened, just slightly. “You’ll have it now.”
Cassie set her glass down, her stomach coiling. She hated the way he made it sound like both a promise and a trap.
---
The meal stretched on, silence heavy but charged. Cassie picked at her food, mind already spinning with calculations. If she slipped away after dinner—maybe claimed a headache—she could make it to the pier by eleven. Just to hear what the stranger had to say.
Her phone buzzed in her clutch, and she flinched. Lucien’s eyes darted to the sound.
“Who’s contacting you?”
Cassie’s chest seized. She scrambled for an answer. “Just… Eli. He worries if I don’t check in.”
Lucien’s stare lingered long enough to make her palms sweat. Finally, he leaned back, swirling his wine. “Good. Keep it that way. The fewer people involved in this arrangement, the safer for everyone.”
Cassie forced a nod, hiding her racing thoughts.
---
Dessert arrived, though she barely tasted it. Lucien finally broke the silence again, his tone lower this time, almost intimate.
“At the gala, people will try to test you. They’ll whisper in your ear, bait you with compliments or poison. Do not bite.”
Cassie looked up. “And if I do?”
Lucien leaned forward, his elbows resting lightly on the table. His eyes darkened, trapping her in their depths.
“Then they’ll think you’re weak,” he said softly. “And weakness, Cassie, is fatal.”
Her breath caught, the air between them suddenly too thin. He wasn’t threatening her—not exactly. But the intensity in his words, the way his gaze lingered on her lips before flicking away, left her pulse stuttering.
She hated that a part of her wanted him to keep looking.
---
The dinner ended at last, Lucien rising with the ease of a man who’d orchestrated the entire evening. He offered his hand to help her up. She hesitated, then placed her fingers in his. His grip was warm, steady, and lingered just a moment longer than necessary.
“I’ll have the car ready tomorrow,” he said. “Get some rest.”
Cassie nodded, forcing a polite smile as he released her.
But when she returned to her suite, her mind wasn’t on rest.
It was on Pier 17. On the message that refused to let her go. On the choice clawing at her chest.
Would she risk slipping out to meet the stranger? Or would she stay in the safety of her gilded cage?
---
- Writer
