The Brutal Revenge

In a world built on lies, Elena was an artist.

Portraying herself as a character that existed only in her imaginations, but acting so well, such that everyone she came across easily believed it. And since everyone was busy trying to get strings pulled in different aspects of their lives, they cared less about verifying her identity and claims. Over time, she had made substantial gains through her schemes, but she was yet to hit her jackpot... her main target. she believed that it was only a matter of time before she would get it done, and after that, she would quit for good and make something reasonably substantial out of her life.

This was just another day in her constant attempts to fix herself within the one group she didn't belong to.

There had been an announcement of a party for the elites, the kind they held quarterly, and it was indeed everyone's dream, except only the select few could attend. Invitation-only, strict security, and only the elite.

Elena gracefully walked up to the entrance and handed her invitation to the security, who checked it against the guest list and within a few seconds, smiled back at her and let her through.

The golden chandeliers in the hall sparkled like frozen fire, casting a pretty glow over the sea of designer gowns and hand tailored tuxedos. Elena adjusted the delicate crystal mask over her face, feeling the whisper of silk against her skin as she slipped effortlessly between the world's untouchables.

Yet here she was, a nobody dressed in stolen dreams and walking among the sea of prestigious individuals as if she belonged with them.

A waiter passed with a tray of champagne and Elena plucked a glass with gloved fingers, tilting her chin just right, effortlessly giving off the arrogance of old money. Elena knew how to play the game. Through constant practice, she had memorized every rule, every subtle cue. Eye contact, but not too much. Smile, but with the perfect edge of boredom. Every move, every breath, simply calculated to perfection.

And for a while, it worked. at least until he found her.

The stranger stood by the marble staircase, a black mask concealing half his face, but doing nothing to hide the raw magnetism pouring off him. He was danger clothed in velvet, tall, cold, very commanding. His gaze followed her across the room, sharp as a hook through flesh.

Predators recognize other predators. Or maybe... a prey in this instance.

Elena's heart kicked against her ribs, but she smiled in a well-practiced lazy way and drifted closer to him.

"You don't look like you belong here," he said, voice low enough, almost a whisper, so that only she could hear.

The words weren't cruel. They were... just curious, inquiring.

"And yet," Elena smiled, swirling the champagne between her fingers, "here I am. just like everyone else."

He laughed. A soft, dangerous sound. "And your name?"

She sipped her drink, letting the golden liquid burn down her throat as she leaned closer. The smell of him... expensive cologne and something darker, like a storm ready to break, curled around her senses.

"Where's the fun in giving away all my secrets?" she whispered, leaning backwards in a seductively inviting manner.

His eyes darkened beneath the mask. "Maybe I like games." He curled his lips to form a half smile.

Some games were survival. Others were suicide. She hadn't yet decided which this was, but she looked determined to play it.

"You look like you do," she teased, voice dropping a note, letting heat flicker in her gaze. She had to keep him guessing and appear distracted If he asked too many questions... if he pressed too hard.

Elena's pulse beat in her throat.