A fleeting glimpse was all it took. Lance was almost certain it was her.
The cigarette in his hand burned down to his fingers, snapping him back to reality. He crushed the butt in an ashtray, put on his mask, and hurried downstairs.
By the time he reached the ground floor, they were gone. He scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of her. Still, the image of her was seared into his mind, reinforcing his certainty.
Jessica, at a masked ball, with another man. What was she trying to do? Cheat on him?
The thought made him grind his teeth.
Just then, his phone rang. It was Catherine. "Where are you?" she asked, her voice soft. "I was just talking to others, and when I looked for you, you were gone."
Lance took a deep breath, trying to force himself to remain calm, but his voice was tight when he spoke. "I saw a friend. I came downstairs to talk."
"Oh," she said. "I'll come find you."
"No, don't. I'm on my way up. Wait for me."
He hung up and clenched his fist around his phone, the sharp edges digging into his palm. His jaw was set as he scanned the area one last time before heading back upstairs.
Catherine spotted him immediately. The masks he had chosen for them were a matching set, designed with complementary colors and patterns that clearly marked them as a couple. She took his arm, and they began to mingle.
Everyone was masked, but Catherine knew this was an elite crowd. It was rumored that even the reclusive Mr. George would be in attendance, along with the vice president's son. With the stakes so high, it was best to be humble.


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