Masquerade [Kuskovo Estate]

[Colette Moreau]

Colette hadn’t expected Zixin’s bold invitation, and a sudden flush of excitement coursed through her at his words. The idea of sweeping off to Singapore on a whim was tempting—seductive, even. For a moment, she let herself imagine it: the glittering skyline, the opulent parties, the thrill of being on Zixin’s arm in one of Asia’s most exclusive cities. But reality pulled her back. She had only just arrived in Moscow and was beginning to pierce the upper echelons of the Custody’s power. To leave now, even for such an alluring offer, would be reckless.

She was about to shake her head, her refusal carefully measured to retain the intrigue of his proposal, when someone bumped into him. Instinctively, she stepped aside to pardon herself on their behalf, her movements smooth and practiced. The woman who collided with Zixin was stunning—smoldering, even. Colette usually prided herself on sharing the spotlight with strong, confident women, but there was something about this one that set her on edge. Perhaps it was the deliberate way she carried herself, or the too-perfect timing of her entrance. Colette held back her words, sensing there was more to this moment than met the eye.

And then she saw him.

Her breath caught in her throat as Carter stepped aside, seemingly indifferent to the commotion surrounding the woman’s shoe. For a moment, she couldn’t process what she was seeing—couldn’t comprehend why he was here. Her jaw fell slightly, utterly unladylike, as shock replaced composure. It was him. After everything, it was him.

The room seemed to close in around her, the weight of the moment pressing down like a vise. She blinked rapidly, willing herself to regain control. This wasn’t the time or place to unravel, and she knew it. They were already drawing attention—far too much of it. She needed to act, and quickly.

“Her shoe, yes,” Colette said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “You must help her.” Her eyes flicked to the woman’s heels, immediately recognizing the designer. It was top of the current fashion, and of course, it fit the woman perfectly. Colette nudged Zixin with a subtle gesture, urging him to tend to the woman. His charm and confidence would diffuse the situation, giving her the opening she needed.

Without missing a beat, she stepped forward and grabbed Carter’s arm, her movements brisk but controlled, as though guiding a wayward guest rather than confronting an ex. She pulled him into her arms and placed them in a position to dance her heart pounding in her chest as she forced herself to appear composed.

Giving her enough time to settle her surprise, her eyes locked with his. For a brief moment, all her carefully curated poise melted away. Her gaze burned with fury, her grip tightening on his arm.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she gasped, her voice low and cutting. Whatever composure she’d mustered before was teetering, replaced by an anger that simmered just below the surface. She didn’t know what game he was playing, but she wasn’t about to let him derail everything she’d worked so hard to build.

But then her attention shifted, realizing that whispers and wandering eyes were still following them. A confrontation here—one that looked like anything but casual—would be ruinous. Colette straightened, forcing her expression into something softer, more practiced, as if everything was perfectly fine.

“Dance!” she ordered under her breath, her grip still firm on his arm as she waited for him to lead. Her voice didn’t brook any argument, though her smile, directed at those watching, was dazzling and serene. To the outside world, she looked like nothing more than a radiant young woman being whisked by a partner.

As the music swept them up, Colette placed a hand on Carter’s shoulder and drew him close, her movements fluid and precise. “You’re going to tell me exactly why you’re here,” she murmured through gritted teeth, keeping her tone light enough that no one else could detect the tension. “And you’re going to do it without making a scene.”

Her anger lingered, simmering just beneath the surface, but her steps remained graceful, her posture perfect. The room was watching, and she would not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her falter. Whatever chaos Carter had brought into her life tonight, she would handle it the way she handled everything else: with poise, precision, and an unwavering determination to stay in control.