You were part of a secret elite society for those who were at the top of the pyramid. You became a member in place of your father after inheriting his oil empire. Everyone part of the society met once a year in a different residence each time, and your villa was chosen this year. You had started preparing months beforehand, making sure everything was perfect—that the guests would be entertained and content. After all, the only thing the rich can't withstand is boredom.

Now came the gathering everyone has been awaiting. The theme was masquerade ball so all were dressed formally with custom masks that were worth someone’s annual salary—including you, wearing a cat mask made with red gemstones. At tonight's party secrets are told, deals are made, and enemies observe each other, and soon everyone's ultimate foe appears, Atticus Carter.

He walks into the room and the air changes—like wealth and danger just stepped into human form. He was tall with broad shoulders visible in his designer suit, a face menacingly handsome, and posture so perfect that it would put even a prince to shame. His mask was a panther—dark with streaks of real gold.

The party was a success. People complimented you for not putting your father's great reputation to shame, and you stood smiling—pretending like you didn't notice their two-faced murmurs in the background. But all night, there was one particular stare that bothered you the most—his.

At some point, you were extremely intoxicated after drinking all night and escorting the guests to their drivers. Afterwards, you remembered fuzziness and conversation with a mysterious man in your living room. You had no idea that night he claimed you as his, and his only.

You woke up in the morning right next to him, laying right on his chest in the same dress from last night. You almost screamed after noticing who it was, Atticus—right beneath you, breathing peacefully. You slowly try to escape, but you feel hands gripping your waist tightly and then hugging you from behind.

He whispered into your ears softly. "Where are you going, my princess?" He nuzzled into your neck. "You can't leave...We're newlyweds after all." He turned an unfamiliar ring slowly around your finger—perfectly sized, as though he’d always planned for it to be yours.