Chapter 1 His Seduction

• Angel.
• I took a deep breath as I stepped onto the red carpet that led into the large hall. There was no sign of the paparazzi, just as I had expected.
• Because although this was one of the biggest events to take place in New York City, the secrecy of the whole thing hinted at something far more complicated than a simple masked ball.
• “Your pass, sir.”
• I glanced up at the bouncer, already shifting into work mode as I took in his frame. You never know which information would be useful, so I always tried to gather as much as I could.
• Passing him the elegant red card, the bouncer passed it to the booth at his back for confirmation. Where Cyrus had gotten the card from, I wouldn't know.
• My mission here tonight was to infiltrate the Mafia—they were sure to be in attendance—and gather intel.
• The doors were opened for me after a few seconds. Discreetly checking to make sure my mask was in place, I took in a deep breath and stepped in with a slight nod in the bouncer’s direction.
• A glass of champagne soon appeared in my hand as I took it off the tray of a passing waiter. I hadn't intended to drink tonight, but I was feeling nervous—which was a bad omen.
• I never got nervous, no matter the job at hand and definitely not when I'm working undercover. Not to toot my horn, but I was as confident and self-assured as they come, stepping seamlessly into whatever character I needed to be.
• But tonight, I had a bad feeling about this ball. It was supposedly hosted by a senator's son to raise funds for orphanages, according to my research, but it was also a front for criminal dealings in private.
• I knocked back the glass of champagne and gulped it down, needing liquid courage. And then, I traded it for another full glass of champagne.
• This time around, I didn't drink it. Instead, I just held it as a way to blend in with the crowd. And then, I got to socializing—trading light banter here and there, portraying a lovable character while keeping an ear out for information.
• Because even with the protection of my mask, the Mafia would be able to sniff me out as a federal agent if I just stood in a corner and observed. They had an eye for those sorts of things.
• My phone buzzing in my pocket was what finally made me stop and lean against the wall. Pulling it out, I saw a message from Cyrus.
• It read: Got in safe?
• Raising my head to scan the crowd to make sure no one was fixated on me, I hurriedly sent an affirmative reply before pocketing my phone—not wanting to draw attention to myself.
• My feet were killing me, so I decided to stay leaning against the wall for just a little more time before I went back to socializing.
• Glancing at my watch, I sighed when I found out that only thirty minutes had passed. That meant I still had four more hours—give or take—to spend in this hellhole.
• I groaned and swept my free hand through my brown wavy hair—a nervous habit—while the glass of champagne remained full in my other hand.
• Just as I glanced around the ballroom, trying to figure whom to talk to next, my attention was drawn to a man making his way through the crowd of people on the dance floor.
• What baffled me was that he wasn't forcing his way through—no, the crowd was parting for him. As if they knew who he was, even with his mask on.
• I pushed off the wall as I took him in. He was dressed in a blue suit that brought out the color of his eyes. A silver mask was attached to his eyes, the same color as his tie and accessories.
• I couldn't help the way my eyes trailed down his body, everything about him screamed luxury and for some reason I couldn't yet place, he looked eerily family.
• I was so busy checking him out that I didn't realize that he was heading straight to me.
• Taken unaware by his sudden stop in front of me, I took a step back, plastering myself against the wall.
• It took me a moment to gather my wits and I cursed myself inwardly for showing fear. I'm a man who doesn't get intimidated by anyone, and although the man in front of me was a few inches taller, I blamed my nervousness on the bad feeling I had gotten when I entered the ballroom.
• Right then, I composed myself and my survival instincts went haywire. Was there something wrong with my pass? Had my cover been blown?
• “I couldn't help but notice that you were standing here alone,” he started, and I gulped as his deep voice sent shivers down my spine.
• For a moment, I just stared at him. I was at loss for words and that was something that rarely happened.
• His chuckle brought me out of my trance and I cleared my throat before speaking. The last thing I needed was for my voice to come out as a squeak when I spoke.
• “I was just taking a break from socializing,” I replied to him, suspicion raising its ugly head now that I wasn't ogling him.
• “I know. I couldn't help but be drawn to you since you entered the ballroom.” His pink lips parted with a small smile, revealing dimples on his cheeks.
• I was a goner at that moment and I hadn't even seen the rest of his face. I forced myself to focus on the matter at hand, retracing my steps since I entered the ballroom.
• If what this man was saying was true, I needed to make sure I hadn't done something that would jeopardize my mission.
• Besides, why was he watching me? And why did he approach me now?
• Before I could say anything though, he continued, “Forgive my brazenness, but I would like to ask you for a dance.”
• A moment of silence for my heart that just stopped beating.
• “I… uhm…” Somewhere along the line, I had forgotten how to construct full sentences.
• The smirk on the stranger's face showed that he knew exactly what he was doing to me. He was dangerous and I felt myself being pulled under his allure.
• Stretching out a hand with one behind his back, he asked again.
• “Dear Stranger, may I have this dance?”
• I shouldn't agree. I had a job to do, but when he said it like that—with that voice and that face—I realized that I could do my job and dance with this handsome stranger, at the same time.