Page 3 of Reckless Games

He scans the list in his hands, and for a moment, he hits the bottom and pauses. His eyes lift, and he looks like he’s going to deny me before something stops him. He places a finger over his earpiece and nods at whatever someone must be saying to him.

“Very well.” I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or the person in his ear, but he reaches a hand out for my invitation, and I give it to him.

His dark eyes skim over me once as I make my way in, adjusting my mask as I do.

As per the instructions on the invitation, the first night is a masquerade. A chance to get to know fellow guests and casually mingle without identities or reservations getting in the way. Supposedly who you are doesn’t matter when you step through these doors.

It’s a load of crap given the fact that everyone here is clearly rich, powerful, and full of themselves.

I try to bury those thoughts. These are the kind of people Ivy enjoys spending time with, and for the next week, I’m her.

I smooth my fingers over my black silk dress. It cuts low in the front, accentuating my minimal curves, and it dips all the way down in the back, revealing the full length of my spine. My blonde hair is down and curly, just beneath my shoulders, doing barely anything to hide me.

This dress seemed over the top when Ivy sent it to me and suggested I wear it the first night, but looking around at the other women in their floor-length gowns, I’m not out of place at all. And I’m secretly thankful Ivy shipped me an entire wardrobe to wear this week because my jeans and T-shirts would have had me sent home.

Taking in a deep breath, I follow a path of white poinsettias leading the group from the foyer, down a grand hallway. The manor is just as ominous on the inside as it was when I arrived in the car. Everything is large and overly decorated. Dark walls frame cold floors.

It’s decorated for Christmas, and yet, doesn’t feel holiday-like at all. There’s no red or green in sight. Everything is white, blue, silver, and gold. Even the Christmas lights have a warm glow.

I’m not sure if it’s the manor, or the fact that I’m well aware I’m entirely out of place here, but I swear I feel eyes on me as I follow the crowd down a long marble hall.

People are mostly quiet, and I can’t help hoping I’m not the only one here who’s nervous. The men are in perfectly tailored suits, and the women are in dresses similar to mine. Simple, tasteful, but sexy.

“You look nervous.” A voice pops up beside me, and I jump, turning to see a redhead wearing a green and gold masquerade mask with a smile so big it’s almost enough to light up the dim hallway. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” I shake my head and continue walking, but she keeps pace with me, not leaving my side.

“I’m Stella.” She waves her dress out in a quick curtsy as we walk.

“L—” I stop myself, realizing I’m not allowed to be me right now. “I’m Ivy.”

“Nice to meet you, Ivy.” Stella nods, not noticing my stumble. “Is this your first time?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Stella’s blue gaze drops to my mouth, and I realize I’m biting my lower lip.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a bad thing.” She nudges me. “I’m also a newbie. Although, I’ve heard no one is invited here twice, so it makes sense. Rumor is if there are no repeat guests, it’ll help maintain the anonymity of the event.”

It’s the same thing Ivy told me, further confirming the rumors are true.

“So, what made you decide to come?”

“The truth—my sister made me.” I can’t help but laugh, and Stella giggles in return. “She said I need to live a little.”

“I get that.”

I’m not sure she does, seeing as Stella reminds me a lot of Ivy with her bubbly personality and outgoing demeanor.

“What about you?”

“Curiosity.” She winks. “Figured if I was lucky enough to snag an invite, I’d be an idiot to turn it down. Besides, it’s not like I had better plans.”

“Same.”

Although, I’m not sure my life is the same as Stella’s at all. While I look glamorous right now because of my perfectly curled hair and expensive dress, she exudes beauty. Her cheeks glow and her smile is bright. She’s probably around my age. But even if I’m only twenty-five, something about Stella is brighter—shinier.

When the group reaches the end of the long hall, we’re met with double doors that open to a ballroom. And even if the manor was grand on the outside, I didn’t anticipate what I’m met with. A ceiling so high it might as well reach the sky. Chandeliers dripping like falling stars. Walls of poinsettias painting a cool scene that matches the snowy landscape, framed by the large windows stretching two sides of the room.

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