BOUGHT BY THE PRESIDENT
Isabella
The clock struck midnight, and with it, I stepped through the glass doors of Masquerade—into hell.
The bass from the music pulsed through the floor beneath my feet, the red and gold lights casting sinful shadows along the walls. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey, expensive cologne, and unspoken promises, each one as heavy as the weight pressing down on me.
I didn’t belong here.
But then again, I didn’t belong anywhere anymore.
Only hours ago, my life had imploded. Moreau Enterprises, the empire my father built, had officially gone bankrupt.
I could still feel the tremor in my hands as I replayed the email from the board in my mind.
“The funds have been drained.”
“Investors have pulled out.”
“Creditors are demanding immediate payment.”
“Moreau Enterprises can no longer sustain itself.”
I was ruined.
And not because of anything I had done. Someone orchestrated this downfall. Someone with enough power to shatter what my father had spent decades building.
“Miss Moreau…” My lawyer’s voice echoed in my mind, his words urgent but resigned. “We need to find out who pulled the strings. But whoever it was… they wanted you to fall.”
And I did.
I was shattered.
I had lost everything—my home, my status, my inheritance. Everything my father worked for, everything he sacrificed, was now gone.
I couldn’t think about it.
That’s why I ended up here, at Masquerade.
I needed to forget.
The dress I wore was bolder than anything I had ever chosen before—black as ink, hugging every curve of my body. The slit up the side exposed my leg with each step, and the plunging neckline showed more skin than I had ever dared to reveal. Tonight, I didn’t want to be Isabella Moreau, the heir to a collapsed empire. I wanted to be someone else.
The lace mask over my eyes helped with that.
I walked up to the bar and sat down, crossing my legs, my thoughts a mess as the bartender approached.
“What can I get you, miss?”
“Something strong enough to make me forget,” I murmured.
He smiled knowingly. “Understood.”
A glass of whiskey appeared in front of me. I took a sip, savoring the burn as it slid down my throat.
“First time here?” A male voice came from beside me.
I turned to find a handsome, blond man in an expensive suit, holding a glass identical to mine. His eyes scanned my body with obvious interest, and a slow smile spread across his lips.
He was attractive, but he didn’t stir anything inside me.
“Maybe,” I replied, taking another sip.
He leaned in slightly, intrigued. “And what brings a woman like you to a place like this?”
The destruction of my life.
But I simply smiled bitterly. “Something strong enough to make me forget.”
He chuckled and opened his mouth to speak again, but then I felt it.
The stare.
It was intense. It burned against my skin even before I turned to see where it was coming from.
My heart skipped a beat.
Slowly, I turned, scanning the crowd. That’s when I saw him.
The masked man.
He was standing against the far wall, watching me. Not like the other men in here—hungry, eager—but with something else.
Possession.
And I felt that gaze like a physical touch.
The blond man kept talking, but I couldn’t hear him anymore.
My fingers tightened around the glass, my pulse racing in my chest.
Then, he started walking toward me.
Slow, deliberate steps. Like a predator who knew his prey wouldn’t run.
My breath caught in my throat as he reached me.
Tall. Commanding. Dangerous.
His dark suit fit perfectly, outlining a strong, imposing frame. The black mask covered the upper half of his face, leaving only his eyes visible. Deep, piercing blue. Devastating.
“What are you trying to escape from?” His voice was deep and low, reverberating through me.
I should have run.
I should have told him to go away.
But instead, I whispered, “Everything.”
His gaze darkened, and I saw the exact moment when he made his decision.
Lucian took my hand and led me through the crowd, past hidden doors, until we entered a private lounge.
As soon as the door closed behind us, the air between us ignited.
He pressed me against the wall, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that was nothing but hunger. Rough. Possessive. Merciless.
My skin burned under his touch, his fingers tracing down my waist, up my sides, then lower, gripping my hips. Every touch was a claim. Every kiss was a warning.
“You’re dangerous,” he murmured against my lips.
A breathless laugh escaped me, my fingers threading into his hair. I’d never been dangerous in my life.
But tonight, with him, I wanted to be.
His teeth grazed my neck, and a soft moan slipped from my lips. I was already lost.
He pulled down the zipper of my dress with practiced ease, letting the fabric slip off my body until it pooled around my feet. The cool air hit my skin, but it was his gaze that made me shiver.
He traced my curves with his fingers, his touch both reverent and dangerous.
“Perfect…” he whispered, as if memorizing every inch of me.
He lifted me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his waist, and I felt it—the undeniable evidence of his desire pressing against me, hard and unyielding.
I trembled—not from fear, but from anticipation.
Lucian carried me to the dark leather sofa, lowering me gently beneath him. His body caged mine, and the world outside faded away. Only he existed. Only this night existed.
His lips traced a path down my skin, each kiss a new torment. His fingers slid the straps of my lingerie down, pulling them with agonizing slowness.
He took me as if I had always been his. The sheets tangled beneath us, moans mixing with the muffled music from outside.
And I let him take me.
Because that night, I wasn’t Isabella Moreau, the ruined heiress of a destroyed empire.
I was just a woman seeking to forget her pain in the arms of a masked stranger.
A man I thought I would never see again.
Or so I believed.
THE NEXT DAY
“The key investor who orchestrated your company’s downfall…” my lawyer’s voice trembled beside me, “was Lucian Devereux.”
My body went cold.
The blood drained from my face as I slowly lifted my gaze to the laptop screen. Those blue eyes. The same ones that had burned into me last night.
Lucian Devereux.
The man who destroyed my family.
The man who ruined me. And the man who, unknowingly, took me in his arms that night.
