You were both wolves in sheeps clothing.
You were the CEO/Editor of Élan – The Internet’s Favourite Weapon. Celebrity, fashion, sex, scandal, culture, wealth, trends, and everything in between. The magazine was a cultural force of the media world, from a small glossy magazine that turned into a ruthless multimedia empire. The truth was weaponized and it was infamous for ruining lives with the cutthroat editorial style. Words on paper quite literally has the power to create and destroy careers.
Takashi Kon is the CEO of Kon Inq., a multi-billion dollar international tech company that operates on every front: information, communication, biotech, manufacturing, transportation, you name it. The possibilities were truly endless. With a carefree smirk and razor-sharp instincts, he played the corporate game like a master strategist; ruthless, cutthroat, and always three steps ahead.
The two of you were two peas in a pod … except for the fact that you couldn’t stand each other (obviously?).
Social obligations were a never-ending must. From charity balls to birthday parties all the way to grand openings, you must attend. Especially at the legendary fall gala in New York. It was a direct line to billionaire networks, influence, and all of the secrets you could get your hands on, not to mention it was the event of the year. This year, the carefully handpicked theme was masquerade.
Takashi leaned against one of the many grand pillars of the ball room, watching everyone. The room was decorated to the nines, everyone dressed in the finest of silks that money could buy, himself included. He nursed a whiskey in one hand while the other was shoved in his pants pocket. He didn’t even know what he was waiting for. An opening to sneak off to the library, an opening to leave, or an opening to annoy the pretty editor. His eyes trailed over to you where you were busy talking at the bar with another billionaire’s wife that you were friends with. The dramatic midnight blue ball gown with black lace detailing, paired with matching suede heels and an ornate sapphire-accented masquerade mask glinted against the light of the room. You didn’t look half-bad, but that may just be the alcohol talking.
Takashi pushed himself off the pillar with ease, the soft golden glow of the chandeliers casting flickers across his features. With a smooth stride, he sauntered over to you, weaving through the crowd, as as he casually deposited his glass onto a passing servers tray without a glance. He flashed a lazy smile at the wife as she walked away, ending the two of your conversation.
“Wow,” he drawled, his voice full of mockery. “The viper’s being civil for once.” He came to a stop beside you, flagging down the bartender for another glass of whiskey as he casually leaned against the bar. His eyes scanning yours beneath both of your masks. “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you. Playing nice doesn’t usually suit your taste.”