“You didn’t come alone, did you? Where’s your partner? Did you come with the duke? Or are you here to find yourself a new husband?”

Jack’s lips curled crookedly.

After sweeping his gaze around the room, he took a slow step toward Bella.

“Don’t come any closer.”

Bella retreated as he advanced. His speech was slurred and heavily affected by alcohol, and the eyes visible beyond his mask were unnervingly persistent.

“Why are you backing away? Isn’t this what you came to the capital for? To catch yourself a man and climb the ladder—something like that?”

But Jack, already too intoxicated to reason clearly, took her refusal as an insult.

“So just because you’ve crossed paths with a duke, men like me aren’t good enough for you?”

His tone sharpened.

Old memories rose unbidden and intertwined in his mind: the jeers and contempt he had endured because of his immigrant ancestry, and the ridicule he had faced for keeping smelly pigs. For years, he had lived steeped in disdain. It was only after he found success in business that he saw the world around him change. Once money and achievement had masked his origins, people’s attitudes shifted.

After that, he learned to take what he wanted. Being refused was no longer something he was accustomed to.

But Bella, whom he had been introduced to at his father’s insistence, was different.

From the outset, she showed no particular interest in his wealth. She was neither ingratiating nor clingy. She simply listened quietly and responded with measured words.

That was why he liked her.

The fact that she had worked as a maid for years. The quiet obedience in her manner.

He believed that everything was unfolding exactly as it should.

That was until the moment she took the Fraser duke’s hand and walked away.

Jack did not take Bella’s rejection lightly.

How dare a poor, orphaned maid refuse him?

And there was the duke, leading her away with such effortless confidence. The unmistakable note of aristocratic condescension in his gaze only served to deepen Jack’s resentment.

Jack was not the kind of man to accept defeat. He could not rest until he either possessed what he wanted or destroyed it, ensuring that no one else could have it.

Now, a crude and possessive urge rose within him — the urge to conquer Bella.

Forced backwards until her back met the wall, Bella had nowhere left to retreat. Jack stepped forward, closing the final distance and cutting off her escape.

“Go on. Try screaming.”

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

The fact that she did not yield easily only served to sharpen his sadism.

“If you scream, everyone will find out we’re together. If it becomes known that you were alone in a room like this with a man without your partner, do you know what that would mean?”

The scent of alcohol on his breath made Bella turn her face away and hold her breath.

A sickening chill crawled over her skin.

Her body stiffened as though frozen in place.

“Do you really think anyone would believe you? You—a mere maid?”

He knew exactly what Bella feared most.

‘Please… someone, anyone…’

The moment she squeezed her eyes shut—

“Ugh!”

There was a heavy thud and the oppressive weight pinning her in place suddenly disappeared.

Jack’s body was thrown across the room and landed with a thud on the floor.

***

Logan attended the masquerade ball with his cousin, Rebecca Risely.

He rarely appeared at society gatherings, but this was one of the few social events he bothered to attend. At a masquerade ball, countless conversations unfolded behind concealed faces.

“So if I grow tired of these events, should I simply attend them with another man? Is that truly something a husband should be saying?”

Rebecca clicked her tongue behind her mask.

“Count Risely has never enjoyed noisy occasions like this.”

“I didn’t believe there could be a man worse than you. Truly, one has to live long enough to witness everything.”

Rebecca’s husband was away on business at his estate, and Logan required a companion for the evening. It was, in every sense, a mutually convenient arrangement.

Wearing a bold crimson gown and a butterfly mask adorned with rubies, Rebecca entered the ballroom with effortless regal composure.

Any complaints she had about her absent husband quickly dissolved as she basked in the attention she received. She moved gracefully from one conversation to the next, smiling with poise and confidence.

Before long, she began to wave a black lace fan languidly and almost flirtatiously, and people gathered around her as if drawn by instinct.

In truth, within the relatively small circle of aristocratic society, masks were little more than decoration.

What they competed over was not anonymity, but splendor: who was dressed more extravagantly; who shone more brilliantly. Everyone recognized one another, yet pretended otherwise. It was an unspoken pact.

To be fooled by the illusion of anonymity and act without restraint would simply make one the subject of tomorrow’s gossip.

This place demanded caution precisely because it was fertile ground for stories.

This was also the reason why Rebecca, who thrived at the heart of society, never missed an event like this.

While she chatted endlessly, Logan stayed a step behind her, keeping watch as he sipped his drink. There was value in listening. His ears were attuned to the subtle undercurrents of conversation, while his gaze moved steadily across the ballroom.

He had been half-listening to a discussion about the latest fashionable actor’s performance when he suddenly fixed his gaze on a figure across the hall.

The ball had only just begun, yet one man was already staggering as if heavily intoxicated.

Though his face was concealed behind a mask, the man’s broad frame and darker complexion were unmistakably familiar — it was Jack Hunter.

Jack Hunter was leaving the hall.

‘So he was invited as well.’

As the masquerade was open to all, invitations were sent to wealthy commoners as well as nobles. Renowned professors, inventors, actors and directors — individuals who had established themselves in various fields — were also welcomed.

The ball prized anonymity and free encounters.

So it was no surprise that Jack Hunter was there.

“Why? Did you see someone you know?”

“No. It seems a pest has wandered in.”

Logan observed him for a moment as he drifted alone through the hall, showing no sign of his partner. Then he forced himself to look away.

He was worried about Bella. But she had said she would be attending with Joshua Powell. Although Logan had discreetly investigated Jack’s movements and had even considered intervening to keep him away from Bella, there had been no sign of him approaching her since then. Ultimately, Logan chose not to trouble her with what he knew.

“That’s how masquerades are. I wonder who the next unfortunate soul will be to catch the ill-tempered Duke of Fraser’s eye.”

Rebecca placed her empty glass on a waiter’s tray and moved gracefully towards her next group of friends. Logan followed her in silence, fulfilling his role as her escort.

Then, a familiar shade of brown hair caught his eye. The man spoke briefly with a waiter before hastily crossing the hall. His steps were urgent.

“Excuse me a moment.”

Logan leaned close enough for Rebecca to hear, then withdrew from the gathering.

“What are you doing here?”

As he had suspected, it was Joshua.

Even behind the mask, Joshua’s anxiety was evident.

“I stepped away to get drinks, and Bella disappeared. I’ve been searching everywhere for her. I told a waiter where she would be, but she isn’t there. She’s wearing a yellow dress—have you seen her?”

Logan shook his head.

Although he had seen women wearing yellow dresses throughout the hall, he had not seen Bella.

Then he remembered seeing Jack stagger away earlier.

D*mn it!

Without hesitating, he turned in the direction Jack had gone.

He strode down the corridor, flinging open one door after another to inspect the rooms.

“Ah! Who are you?!”

“Get out at once!”

Cries and protests mingled behind him, but he ignored them.

Noticing Logan’s urgency, Joshua started to search the opposite corridor.

The further Logan went in, the fainter the music became. There were fewer people lingering here.

His senses sharpened painfully.

‘Not too late. Please, not too late.’

His heart pounded violently in his chest.

What if she was somewhere else? What if she was in danger in a place he had not yet searched?

Then—

A faint sound slipped through the crack between two closed doors.

Voices.

A man and a woman, their tones tense and clashing.

Logan stopped in front of the tightly shut door.

His hand closed around the handle, his knuckles turning white. As he pushed it open to find it unlocked, part of him prayed desperately that she would be inside.

Another part of him prayed that she wouldn’t be.

“If you scream, everyone will know we were together. Then we’ll see what happens.”

The drunken threat slurred through the air. A small figure pressed back against the wall, trembling, trapped with nowhere to retreat.

A flash of pale yellow beneath a towering silhouette: Bella.