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“Ready?” Beau asked.

I met his eyes through our masks. “Ready.”

The door opened, and Beau stepped out first, turning to offer me his hand. I took it, letting him help me from the car, and the moment my heels hit the red carpet, the cameras exploded.

Flashes everywhere, so bright they were almost blinding. Voices calling out, asking us to look this way, to smile, to turn. The noise was overwhelming, a wall of sound and light that threatened to swallow me whole.

But Beau was there.

His hand found the small of my back, his fingers touching my skin. He guided me forward with gentle pressure with his body against mine.

“Just breathe,” he murmured, his lips close to my ear. “You’ve got this.”

I did breathe. The panic that usually clawed at my throat stayed quiet. His big, imposing presence was like a soft blankie. All cozy and protective.

We posed for pictures, his arm around my waist, my hand resting on his chest. The photographers called out instructions. We turned and smiled, playing our parts. It felt natural.

When we reached the entrance, a man in formal attire stepped forward with a microphone.

“Announcing Miss Darcy Corwin, incoming CEO of Corwin Gems, and Mr. Beau Blackwell.”

A spotlight swung toward us, bathing us in bright light. The crowd inside turned to look, masked faces tilting in our direction.

I waved, my free hand clutching Beau’s arm tighter than it probably should have. But he didn’t flinch. He just smiled and covered my hand with his, a silent reassurance that he was there. I wasn’t alone.

I couldn’t remember a time I’d felt this powerful. This in control. I never imagined I could feel like this with a man at my side. I’d always thought I had to be alone. Independent. Carving out my own destiny without anyone’s help.

But Beau made me feel whole.

My thoughts were interrupted as we were gently ushered from the entrance deeper into the ballroom. The space took my breath away.

The ballroom had been transformed into something out of a dark fairy tale. Deep burgundy drapes cascaded from the ceiling, pooling on the floor in rivers of velvet. Candelabras lined the walls with LED candles casting light and shadows. The chandeliers overhead had been dimmed to a soft amber glow and scattered throughout the room were arrangements of black roses and deep purple orchids.

The tables were draped in black with centerpieces of twisted branches adorned with crystals that caught the candlelight. It was gothic and romantic. There were no pumpkins or typical Halloween decorations. The vibe was brooding and alluring. Everyone loved the idea of walking on the dark side. We put together a night of fantasy that alluded to breaking rules without actually doing it.

A string quartet in the corner played haunting and beautiful music. Guests in elaborate masks mingled throughout the space. The seductive environment seemed to have everyone a little looser than normal.

“This is incredible,” Beau said, looking around with genuine appreciation.

“Yeah?”

“Did you have anything to do with this?”

“I helped plan it,” I admitted. “The event coordinator did most of the work, but I approved the designs.”

“You did good, Corwin. This is exactly the right vibe.”

We made our way to the bar, Beau’s hand never leaving my back. I ordered a glass of red wine because it was the right thing to drink in a room like this. Beau got a whiskey neat.

“Darcy.”

I turned to find my father approaching, looking distinguished in his own tuxedo. His mask was a lion, all golden mane and fierce features. Somehow it suited him perfectly.

“Dad.” I smiled, genuinely happy to see him. “What do you think?”

He looked around the room, taking in the decorations, the guests, the overall atmosphere. Then he nodded, a rare expression of approval crossing his face.

“The party looks good this year,” he said. “You did a good job.”