Behind the Mask: A CEO's Hidden Passion

Chapter 3: The Masquerade Beckons

Reagan’s POV:

“I'm waking up

I feel it in my bones

Enough to make my system blow

Welcome to the new age,

to the new age Welcome to the new age,

to the new age

Woah-oh-oh-oh, oh Whoa-oh-oh-oh,

I'm Radioactive, radioactive…”

How much I love listening to this song during my morning workout. It makes me feel alive and ready to face the s**t show of the day ahead of me. Yeah, even when you’re a wealthy and successful woman, things not only get easier, but they tend to get even more impossible. I may have got lucky to have a friend who supported me financially, but I had to work my butt off day and night to reach the place I am today(not including the mental pressure I went through, specifically after that f*cker).

But people never missed the chance to scold me whenever I went out with one of my boys, especially my black Bugatti Chiron, an absolute sweetheart. ‘look at her living off her man’s money,’

‘With the way she’s dressed, I wonder what man even gives her the light of day, lucky b*tch,’

‘Look at her, probably a wh*re like the others. I wonder how many men she’s slept with to have such a car. She doesn’t even know how to dress up. They probably took pity on her and paid her well.’

The sayings go on and on; despite being wealthy, I never had the urge to show off or attract unwanted attention(after all, I couldn’t have the wrong crowd wondering about my true identity..) I always wore casual clothes or suits for work. At first, these comments weren't really a bother, but as they kept coming, especially during business functions I attended, they really began to irritate me. The actual wh*ores were questioning MY decency when all they did was hang off men’s necks just to live in luxury. One of the many reasons I stopped attending those stupid events is not that my presence mattered either since I always attended as the assistant of the Greatest Ferrer(yeah, imagine the comments that went on after they found out I was “his” assistant). Everyone thought that the unique designs that made every man who wore them stand out in crowds were designed by a man, without knowing it’s all from a woman’s vision who designs based on what’s best for the particular physiques of her customers.

Speaking of functions, I remember the gala I have to attend tomorrow night. PERFECT. The place where I get to interact with fake b*tches and wh*res, isn’t that lovely?

Every time one of them extends a handshake, I feel like I’m about to touch the hundreds of d*cks they’ve touched, which is why I tell them off. I hate their fake façades and the fact that those rich playboys make these creatures feel so special and place them at the top of society while the real, creative, bright, and beautiful women aren’t even admired or acknowledged for their hard work. Irritating right?

I get off the treadmill while wiping the sweat off my forehead. I received an order yesterday afternoon for a Leonardo Moretti guy, probably another rich boy, for tomorrow evening. My assistant, John, knew that I don’t usually take orders for customer-made suits on such short notice, but he said the guy had offered a hefty amount of money, so it was a good deal, just like the others, money was not an issue. He sent me the measurements, and I got to work last night. Thankfully, he ordered it in black, and I still had some fabrics in stock at my penthouse. I got to finish the cutting and sewing last night. Only the finishing touches remained, which I would do either today or tomorrow morning. I also had to do the final touches to my own dress, a fitted high-low satin, emerald dress with a cowl neck I had been working on for months. However, I still don’t have any masks to go with it.

The sudden ring of my phone brought me out of my thoughts. I picked up to hear the voice of a very excited Ava,

“Reagan, girl, you up? Are you ready for tomorrow? Remember, you can’t chicken out now. I have already got your invitation with me. When should I come by to drop it off? Maybe we can plan for tomorrow night or go out tonight and let loose; it’s been so long since we went out for some fun..”

I laughed, hearing her rambling on.

“Hello to you too, Ava. To answer your questions, I got everything ready for tomorrow except for the mask. Still have to figure that out-“

“Oh my goodness, we should definitely go mask shopping today cause I also need a mask and a professional’s advice too, so how about we go shopping and then go to the Grand Bar and have some fun?”

“Okay, I'm good. I'll see you in an hour at the mall.”

“Alright, fantastic! See you, girl Ciao!”

I sighed. Even though I’m not a huge fan of bars and crowded places, I think I need some time to wind down tonight and prepare for tomorrow night.

. . .

Finally, after visiting many stores and browsing over a hundred masks, I found the one I wanted. Even though I own Ferrer, we still don't sell or make any masks, and after today's shopping spree, I thought I might add a new line besides our hat collection for masks. I bought a peacock feather mask, while Ava got a carbon blue mask to match her dress. It was well past 4 p.m., and we had an early dinner before we hit the bar.

“I’m glad we were able to find the perfect masks to match our dresses. But seriously, Reagan, you should add a line for masks in the company, too. It won’t only be good for masquerade parties but also Halloween! I mean, just think about it. You’re a genius when it comes to design, so I’m sure it would be a success, don’t you think?”

“I’ll think about”

Even though I had the thought earlier, I don’t think it would be a good idea after all. My brand was famous for its unique designs and patterns for fabrics that we use for our formal collections, so adding mask production might not actually work best.

Since Ava is so enthusiastic, I didn’t want to ruin her excitement, so I told her I would think about it. Even though Ava is my only close friend, I still like to keep some of my thoughts to myself.

. . .

We reached the Grand Bar after hours of driving in traffic. There was a long line of people at the entrance. However, I showed my black card to the bouncers, and they let us in. It was more of a nightclub than a bar with its dark-lit interior. Drunk bodies were dancing on the dance floor. You could see pole dancers on the second floor dancing for their VIP guests. The place was so crowded you could smell the alcohol and sweat on the air. The place was luxurious for sure, given the materials used, and the interior was done quite well.

We went to the bar to get some drinks. I got my usual Margarita, and Ava called her Bloody Mary. She downed her cocktail pretty quickly and ordered 2 shots of vodka.

“ Whoa, easy girl, you wouldn’t want to get up with a bad headache tomorrow, especially since the masquerade is happening.”

“Oh, come on, Ree I’ll be fine. It’s been a long time since I let loose like this and went out. Papa has been restrict with me going to clubs since last time incident, but I have been craving to have some fun. You should join too ya know it’s been a long time since you went out clubbing.”

I watched as she downed her shots of vodka. Ava could be reckless sometimes, but I loved her regardless. I owed so much to her and her father. They helped me set up my company. Without their help, Ferrer Design would’ve never been in the place it is today.

“I’m cool. I think I’m just gonna sit here and enjoy my drink. You go have some fun on the dance floor. Signal me if anyone becomes too handsy.”

“Awww Ree you’re the best! But don’t worry, I got this.”

She winked as she made her way to the dance floor while swaying her hips, attracting a few guys attention. I’ve done martial arts since I was 18, so I was prepared to give anyone who stepped over the line a piece of my mind. I sighed, thinking about the things I needed to get done for tomorrow and mentally preparing for the masquerade.

As I was lost in thoughts, I felt a pair of eyes on my back. I turned around to meet a pair of icy blue eyes staring at me with so much intensity from the second floor where the VIP lounges were.

Oh boy, he looked absolutely gorgeous, with dark brown hair, immaculately styled, and a chiseled jawline that could have been sculpted by the gods themselves. He reminded me of the Italian mafia men I read about in my early twenties when I was obsessed with romance/erotic novels since I had little trust to actually date a guy. As I remembered the past, I turned around, frowning.

"Probably just another wealthy playboy," I mumbled to myself. "The kind who breaks hearts for sport. No sense in getting carried away."

I had been through heartbreak before, and my mind was the voice of reason, cautioning me against falling for another enticing stranger. True love, I told myself, was a fairy tale. It didn't exist in the real world.

But my heart, tinged with alcohol, had a different plan. My imagination ran wild, painting scenarios of intrigue and romance. With a playful sway in my step, I left my spot and headed for the dance floor to join Ava. She was dancing with a striking blonde, but as soon as she spotted me, our dance began, our bodies moving harmoniously with the music.

As the music enveloped me, I felt a presence approach from behind. I tensed, ready to react, but then his hands came to rest on my hips, holding me in a firm yet gentle grip. I gasped at the sudden proximity, and it was as if the world momentarily paused. His warm breath brushed my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"You're mine,"

he growled in my ear, and with a swift motion, he spun me around. I gasped, my eyes locking with his icy blue ones, and before I could react, he kissed me.

Hard.