The Billionaire's Secret Wife

Chapter One

*ARIA'S POV*

“I don’t belong here, Ivy,” I muttered as I stepped out of the sedan. My silver gown glittered beneath the building’s light. My purse clutched to my hand.

“Of course you do. You’re my plus one girl.” Ivy winked and fixed her mask. “Besides, this is New York’s most exclusive masked gala. Would you rather be in bed sulking over bills?”

My chest tightened, the pain of Mum’s diagnosis ripping my chest. "She has cancer”. My voice low “Stage two. I should be with her, not partying with masks and champagne.”

Her face softened as she pulled me into a hug and whispered, “Just one night. Think of it as your escape from reality.”

We walked into the ballroom, glittering with tall chandeliers and polished marble. The echoes of music and voices filled the air as women in sequined gowns and men in tuxedos chattered. Their faces covered in masks, only their eyes and lips were visible.

“Stay close,”Ivy said, her eyes scanning the room like a lion on the hunt - for someone she could use in her next article.

I slipped to the drinks table. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight… I was ready to take anything that would ease my pain. I picked up a pale golden glass of wine, bubbles danced at the top. I lifted it to my lips, the scent of ripe berries and vanilla hit me. I gulped and it burned down my throat but I loved the way it numbed me.

I grabbed another, drinking slower this time, letting the taste linger. Then I heard a little scuffle beside me.

“What do you mean the pianist canceled?” A bald man with a heavy belly yelled, but the music was loud enough to drown it. His face was laced with anger; clearly, the chief organizer.

His subordinates trembled. “We will fix it, sir. He…” One of them managed to say, with panic in his tone but the man cut him off.

“This is not a day for excuses. Fix this now, or else…”

Should I do it? My heart pounded at the thought of playing. I’d quit school and piano lessons after Mum’s diagnosis to get a job. Maybe this was my way of saying goodbye.

Before I could think, the words slipped out. “I’ll play.”

Their gaze turned to me, filled with disbelief. The bald man stepped closer. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “ Yes, I’m a pianist… or was,” I whispered. His face lit up as he clasped his hands together.

“Well, you have the stage ma’am”. He said, guiding me to the piano.

I slid onto the bench, my fingers hovered over the ivory keys. I smiled. The piano was my safe space. When I played, the noise of the world faded away and right now, that peace was all I needed.

I played my favourite note, the one my mum always hummed when I was a child. Each note was soft, my grief spilled into every chord. The once noisy room fell silent, my melody the only sound. I let the melody take me.

Whispers rippled: “Who is she?” I didn’t let that get to me. I could picture Ivy watching, smiling proudly, whispering, that’s my girl.

I played the last line slowly and softly, then tore my hands away from the keys. Breathless, tears pricked the corner of my eyes. Goodbye, piano.

I stood, everyone's gaze landed on me. Applause thundered in my ears. I smiled, bowed and walked away. Whispers and gazes tore at me.

I slipped back to my drink spot, hidden from them and gulped another glass. Then a husky voice spoke behind me.

“You play like you’re bleeding,”

I turned. A huge masked man stood. His jade-blue eyes sparkled beneath the light, and his pink lip drew me in. It must be the alcohol. His tuxedo fit to his skin revealing his broad shoulders and biceps. Woosh. Why is it suddenly hot in here?

My face flushed, I was thankful I wore a mask. This damn alcohol

“Maybe I am” I gulped down another glass. A wave of dizziness hit my head. I staggered.

“Are you okay?” he said, trying to grab me, but I collided with a server and champagne was all over my dress.

”s**t” My hands flew into the air. Waves of embarrassment flashed through me.

He grabbed a towel and dabbed me, but I collected it and continued. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“If you don’t mind, I could take you to my suite upstairs, and you could wash up.”

I hesitated at first but went with him. What’s the worst that could happen? I searched around for Ivy, but she was out of sight. I pulled up my phone and sent her a text: “I got drenched in champagne. I’m going to a suite to clean up.”

We made it through the crowd, got into the elevator and in no time, I was in a stranger’s room washing up.

He knocked. “I left a shirt for you at the door. You can change into that”. His deep voice echoed.

“Thanks,” I muttered. I guess good people still exist. I cleaned up, collected the shirt, wore my mask and walked out of the bathroom, his shirt hanging loose on me, smelling faintly of cedar wood.

He stood facing the window, his mask still on, a glass of champagne in his hand. The room was huge with a king-sized bed, a couch, and a TV.

He turned at the sound of the door closing. His gaze took in every part of my body, lingered a little on my bare lap and back to my eyes. Then he looked away. “Fits you better,” he said with a smirk.

I chuckled, playing with the loose end of my hair. “I doubt. It feels like I’m lost in it.”

“Do you mind?” he said, lifting his cup to me.

“Sure.” I watched as he poured me a glass. The butterflies in my belly dancing away. He came closer to give it to me and the surrounding air thickened. I swallowed hard.

“Thanks” I said as I took it but our fingers brushed, making heat come up from my groin. I bit my lip to hide it, but I heard a silent groan from him. What!!!

His grip tightened on his glass. His jaw twitched. He gulped down his drink, trying to hide something.

Hunger burned in his eyes as he looked at me. “You’re beautiful.”

Is that him talking or alcohol? He drew closer, each step made my breath rag.

I staggered backwards, colliding with the wall behind me. I winced in pain, biting my lower lip to hide the pain. He let out a soft groan that sent shivers down my spine.

“Stop that.” His voice low as he pulled me in. His hand slid onto my thigh and found its way up to my panties. Fingers pressed against me, tracing my heat. “You’re soaked.”

Heat ran to my cheeks. And without waiting for my response, he crashed his lips into mine, savoring every part of my mouth,

“We… we shouldn’t be doing this”. I finally found my voice. I tried to pull away, but my body betrayed me. Instead, my hands removed his clothing. Gosh, I feel like a w***e right now, but f**k it. This is my night.

I went for his mask, but he held my hand. “We shouldn’t do that.”

“Why?”

“If we see our faces, it will have more meaning than it should and I can't promise you anything after tonight. Let's just enjoy the moment.”

Ouch, that hurt but it made sense. I won’t be able to see him after tonight anyways.

He made his way to my neck, planting soft kisses that sent heat under me. I let out a soft moan as my legs trembled. He lifted me onto the bed and desire consumed us. I drifted to sleep in his arms.

I woke up the next morning, the memory of last night's facade came rushing. I turned to see him but he was gone. His mask on the floor.

No note, No name, Just a memory of a passionate night and his tattoo.