When dawn broke, girl, the apartment transformed into an organized chaos of fabrics, feathers, masks, and laughter. Charlotte had kept her promise: costumes that had arrived from some secret atelier in Monaco, elaborate Venetian masks, silks, velvets, and gold accents that shimmered under the late afternoon light. I chose a deep black dress with blood-red accents, plunging in the back as far as decency allowed, paired with a silver feathered mask that hid my eyes but left my mouth fully visible, painted a vivid red. Lucius opted for a dark period suit—almost like an elegant pirate—with a black mask that accentuated his sharp jawline. Bruce, to my surprise, showed up in Victorian detective attire, complete with a cape, and a simple mask that couldn't quite hide the intensity in his gaze.
Evangelina looked like a dark goddess: a wine-red dress, a gold mask with subtle horns, and her loose hair falling in perfect waves. Moetia, jealous as always, chose something more provocative, with green feathers that highlighted her figure. Phillipe and Charlotte matched, looking like a prince and princess straight out of a Renaissance fairytale.
Everything passed in a blur of laughter; I avoided falling into their games of provocation at all costs. We grabbed a quick lunch and took a nap to get ready.
By the time we arrived at the venue, night had already fallen over Monaco. The ballroom was a dream: crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, walls lined with black and gold velvet, and a live orchestra playing modern waltzes blended with sensual electronic beats. The air smelled of jasmine, champagne, and desire. No one knew who anyone was, but everything reeked of old money, and that anonymity was liberating. The masks turned everyone into living fantasies.
We walked in together, but the crowd soon separated us into pairs and groups. Lucius took my hand and led me to the dance floor. We danced pressed against each other, his body flush with mine, his hands sliding down my bare back. I felt his hot breath on my neck as he whispered, "Tonight you're mine, Carmilla. Behind that mask, you're still the woman who drives me insane."
His words set me on fire. We moved to the rhythm of the music, slow and deep, as if we were making love in public without crossing any forbidden line. My fingers tangled in his hair, and for a moment, I forgot everything: the dangers, the visions, the secrets. I told him, "And to think that just days ago you wanted me out of your life… look at us now. You claim me, and I… I'm yours."
But Bruce suddenly appeared, pulling me away for a dance. His hand on my waist was firm, almost possessive. Beneath the mask, his dark eyes gleamed with that mix of intelligence and danger that drew me in so much.
"Evangelina told me you spoke with her," he murmured close to my ear as we spun. "Thanks for yesterday. But don't think I don't know what you're doing."
I smiled beneath my mask and asked him, "And what am I doing, detective?"
He replied, whispering right into my ear, "Trying to keep me here. And you're succeeding a little too well."
We danced closer. His body was so different from Lucius's—tenser, more alert, as if he were always ready to run or fight. I felt his heat, the subtle brush of his leg between mine, and a shiver ran down my spine. Evangelina watched us from afar with a satisfied smile. Moetia, for her part, was dancing with Phillipe, but she couldn't take her eyes off us.
The night wore on amid glasses of champagne, stifled laughter, and accidental touches that weren't accidental at all. At one point, I found myself on a secluded balcony with Bruce again. The view of Monaco at night was magical: illuminated yachts, the sea black as ink, and the city lights blinking like fallen stars.
"Tell me about Isabel," I asked him, leaning against the railing. The wind toyed with the feathers of my mask.
He sighed, pulling off his mask for a split second while no one was looking. His face was always beautiful under the moonlight—sharp, with that military haircut that gave him a dangerous edge.
He took my hand and said, "It's complicated. I saved her, yes. But now her ex-husband wants to finish what he started. Big George is just a tool. I can't leave her alone, Carmilla. I'm not that kind of man."
The new Carmilla surfaced uninvited, and I kissed him square on the lips before abruptly pulling away, saying, "And I'm not the kind of woman who lets the man she wants turn into a killer."
My fingers brushed his chest. I commanded him, "Stay. Let's help each other. Let's pretend to be that team, just like you said."
He smiled with a lopsided smirk that melted the air around us. He whispered, "You're dangerous, Carmilla. More than any villain I've ever faced."
And then he kissed me. It wasn't gentle. It was urgent, deep, filled with all that built-up tension. His hands slid down my back, pulling me hard against him, and for a second, I felt the world vanish. He tasted like whiskey and secrets. When we parted, we were both panting, and his body was so hard against mine that I pulled him right back in.
"Stay, I don't want you to change," I whispered.
"Only a fool would leave if you're begging him not to," he replied, his voice rough and deep as he slipped his mask back on.
Inside, the party was still in full swing. I found Lucius near the bar, talking to Charlotte and some other masked women who were shamelessly stroking his back. He looked at me and knew instantly that something had happened. He didn't say a word; he just pulled me to him and kissed me in front of everyone, marking his territory again. His kiss was possessive, almost furious, and I matched his intensity. And just when he thought he had me, I threw myself back onto his mouth, making the other women back off. I love the new Carmilla, girl, I can't deny it.
Moetia saw us and let out a nervous laugh as she interrupted, pressing her perfect body against ours, inviting herself into our heat. I didn't let her kiss Lucius, but I grabbed her so firmly that her mouth fell open, and I could see something bloom in her eyes. Evangelina approached, sliding her arm around my waist.
"The four of us together isn't a bad idea," she murmured in my ear, and I watched as one of her hands touched Moetia's chest. Far from pulling away, Moetia began to kiss her. Lucius smiled and said, "I guess this whole mask thing makes everything a little wilder, don't you think?"
I didn't get jealous when the three of them held him, because all the attention was ultimately on me. Hands ran all over my body, and his mouth bit at my neck.
The night became a whirlwind. We danced as a group, masks clashing, bodies brushing together. In a smaller, more intimate side room with dim lighting and slower music, Lucius and I lost ourselves in a corner. His hands slid up my thighs under my dress; his lips never leaving my neck, biting softly as he said, "I want you to be mine right now."
"Not here," I whispered, even though my body said otherwise.
Lucius was touching me in a way that made escape impossible; my mind drifted away. His lips left marks on me, and I promised him that my neck would always be his, and his alone. He gripped my hair and said, "I accept, but piece by piece. Your entire body will bear my mark."
Bruce watched us from the doorway, with Evangelina by his side. The tension among the four of us was palpable, electric. Later, on a private terrace that Charlotte had closed off, we all gathered. The champagne flowed, and confessions spilled out under the spell of the masks.
Evangelina took my hand. "Bruce is staying. Thanks to you."
He nodded, his eyes locked onto mine. I told them, "But we need to talk about everything. No secrets tonight."
Phillipe and Charlotte discreetly stepped away to chat with a couple they knew, leaving just the core group. Moetia stayed, curious and jealous. We talked about Big George, about Isabel Fonzi, and about the visions I'd had. I gave them more details of what I saw: the gunshot, the blood, the darkness. Bruce's jaw clenched.
"I won't be a killer if I can help it. But if I have to choose between Big George or Isabel's ex-husband and any of the people I care about… I won't hesitate."
Lucius wrapped his arm around me, and for the first time, his fingers intertwined with mine. I loved that, girl, I loved it. He said, "Why don't we deal with Big George together, as 'the apex'?"
The conversation grew more intimate as more champagne kept arriving. I wasn't hallucinating, everyone was… Evangelina sat on my lap, kissing me softly on the lips while the men watched. There was no jealousy that night, only shared desire. Bruce approached, trying to kiss the back of my neck, but I nudged him away; no one but Lucius was allowed to do that. A promise is a promise, even those made under the influence of alcohol and his strong hands.
Lucius stroked my leg with his eyes closed, feeling the night breeze; Moetia ran her fingers through his hair. It was a dance of five bodies and souls.
I felt their hands everywhere: Lucius's strength, Bruce's precision, Evangelina's softness. My whimpers were lost in the distant music. In a sudden moment of lucidity, I whispered, "I don't want this to end."