Iris came to the masquerade to make a donation and leave early. Then a masked man stole her breath, her patience, and one dangerous minute at midnight. In black tie, red lips, the joke became a challenge before either of them could step back. The air had that bright, reckless feeling that arrives when two adults know exactly what they are doing and decide to call it harmless anyway.
The night kept making room for them: masquerade ball, chandeliers, secrets, velvet glamour. They traded looks, then dares, then the kind of laughter that makes a person forget what they came to prove. Nobody said the word date, but everything between them started behaving like one.
He knew her laugh before he knew her name. She knew his hands before she knew the mistake. By the time the chapter ended, one small choice had already changed the temperature of the room. It was not the kind of heat that burned everything down. It was the kind that made the whole world glow a little closer.