A Dance of masks

From where I stood, I watched Rebekah giggle, her laughter a melody of triumph and satisfaction. It had been this way for the past two weeks—an endless stream of smug amusement thrown my way.

And why? Because our father had finally introduced her to a wealthy Italian aristocrat, a man of status and power who, on occasion, graced our church with his presence.

Leonardo Valequiz was a man of fortune, the owner of prestigious hotels and countless enterprises. His wealth was immense, his influence undeniable. He was meant to be introduced to me first, but given my soiled reputation in my father’s eyes, I supposed I would be granted the privilege of marriage when I was forty—perhaps eighty, if I were lucky.

“You may now kiss the bride,” my father declared, his voice rich with pride.

The hall erupted into applause as Rebekah leaned forward, sealing her fate with a kiss. It was a moment that should have been beautiful, a moment of celebration and joy. Instead, I could only watch with a deep sense of unease. I pitied the man standing beside her—he was unaware of the deception he had married into. He deserved better.

Yes, you guessed correctly. Today was their wedding. And to make matters worse, I had been forced to stand by my sister’s side as her maid of honor. Father had been against it at first, but Rebekah, ever the master manipulator, had insisted that my presence would serve as a lesson.

“She needs to learn patience, to understand that waiting for the right man is a virtue,” she had said sweetly, convincing our father that this grand display would humble me. He had been so moved by her words that he embraced her, whispering that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

And my mother? As always, she remained silent, content in her role as a shadow to my father’s commands. As for Ryder, he sat seething with barely contained rage, his glare fixed on Rebekah’s new husband. Oh, what a picture-perfect family we were.

“Leo boo, I cannot wait to return to Italy with you,” Rebekah purred, her voice just loud enough for me to hear.

Leonardo merely smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. He seemed enamored with her, completely blind to the darkness that lurked beneath her carefully crafted mask. Poor man, I thought bitterly.

The reception hall was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and joyful chatter. Guests reveled in the celebration, indulging in fine wine and delicate pastries. And me? I sat alone, tucked away in a corner, observing the charade unfold before my eyes.

“What an utterly foolish wedding,” I muttered under my breath.

“That is hardly a graceful sentiment, especially from a woman as enchanting as yourself,” a deep voice responded from behind me.

I sighed, exasperated. First, I had to endure this insipid gathering, and now some stranger sought to make it worse.

Turning swiftly, I prepared to dismiss the intrusion—only to have the words die on my lips.

Before me stood a man unlike any I had ever seen. He was tall, powerfully built, with a commanding presence that radiated dominance and quiet menace. His tanned skin glowed under the soft golden lights, his jet-black hair falling just above a sharp jawline dusted with the perfect amount of stubble. His brows were furrowed slightly, and his gaze—dark, enigmatic, and dangerously intelligent—assessed me with the patience of a hunter sizing up its prey.

His suit was impeccably tailored, each thread a declaration of wealth and authority. He looked like a man who was not accustomed to being questioned, let alone ignored.

“You may wish to wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth,” he remarked, slipping his hands casually into his pockets.

I blinked rapidly, embarrassment washing over me in waves. Hastily, I wiped at my lips, even though I knew there had been nothing there. His expression remained unreadable, his posture effortlessly composed, yet his mere presence felt overwhelming.

“Do I know you?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady.

He exhaled sharply, touching his temple in feigned exasperation.

“Do I appear to be someone you would know?” His voice had deepened, the words carrying a subtle edge.

I flinched. What a condescending jerk. I had merely asked a question, and yet he spoke as though I had insulted his very existence.

“You could have—”

“Sebastian!” A familiar voice called from behind me, causing me to turn.

Leonardo.

The stranger’s expression finally shifted, his lips curling slightly as he acknowledged the groom.

“Leo,” he greeted, stepping forward to embrace him.

I stared, my mind struggling to catch up with the scene before me.

“Congratulations, little brother,” the man—Sebastian—said smoothly.

My jaw nearly hit the floor. Little brother?

They were brothers?

Leonardo chuckled. “You’ve always been so caught up in work, I didn’t think you’d make it to my wedding.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Sebastian replied with a rare, breathtaking smile.

I swallowed hard. He was already dangerously attractive, but when he smiled? He was utterly devastating.

“Come, I want you to meet my wife,” Leonardo said, eagerly pulling his brother along.

I turned away, feeling wholly out of place.

So much for blending into the background. If today had been bad before, it had just taken an entirely new turn.