Masquerade [Kuskovo Estate]

[Carter de Volthström]

Guillaume

Guillaume stepped away from the loading dock, enjoying the slight buzz of his earlier indulgence and the adrift ease of released pleasure. The night air was crisp, sharpening his smirk as he moved towards the party’s heart, the name he’d been given during the dalliance echoing in his mind. P—he’d heard stories about it since he’d arrived in the city. It was supposed to be the pinnacle of experiences, and now, finally, he had a lead. Not bad for only arriving days ago.

He entered the men’s lounge with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, the kind that came naturally to someone who was used to being the center of attention. The room was filled with a few men milling about, the space a mix of sophistication and decadence that suited Guillaume perfectly; the monkey earned an appreciative nod for the exotic choice. He adjusted his mask—a sleek, gold half-mask that accentuated the sharp features of his jaw and mouth—and surveyed those within, his gaze landing on two men drenched in the blue light of the tank.

Each exuded a kind of presence that marked them as important. The first, with his dark, brooding intensity, and the second, whom he presumed was Grigori, the name of whose social searches revealed a face, with a more aloof, casual air. Guillaume’s instincts told him he was in the right place.

With a smirk that could charm the devil himself, Guillaume approached, his movements fluid and unhurried. A serpent slithering through the grass, he seemed to glide across the floor. He had a magnetic presence that drew eyes and attention, both from men and women; attention he did not dissuade.

“Hello fellow masked ballers,” Guillaume said, his voice a smooth, melodic drawl of a native French speaker. He might have stripped the mask from his face during the introduction but that it looked so good on him, there was no point.

“Guillaume Volthström,” he introduced himself to both, but it was to the smooth-headed Grigori that he turned. “I hear you like to party, and as testament to the host family, I come bearing favors, if anyone is interested?” He glanced at them both as he retrieved a bag from his inner jacket pocket.