Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia) novel Chapter 207

Chapter 207: Chapter 207 Behind the Mask

Cecilia’s pov

I slowed my steps, caught in an internal tug-of-war--should I get involved in whatever scheme was unfolding... or just mind my business and walk away?

While I hesitated, a woman in a champagne-colored gown bustled out from a side room, her face practically melting with anticipation as she zeroed in on the Real VIP.

The smile stretched across her face was so forced, it looked like it hurt to maintain.

The pair exchanged pleasantries as they drifted toward what looked like a small side room lined with masks--just steps away from the ballroom entrance.

The Real VIP’s gaze flicked past her companion and landed on me. Her brows lifted slightly, curiosity sparking. "And you are--"

"Oh! She’s one of our guests," the woman in the champagne gown said quickly, cutting in with a laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Just arrived, I believe."

Trapped under both their gazes, I sighed inwardly.

So much for staying out of it.

I stepped forward with practiced ease, wearing my most socially polished smile.

"Good evening."

The Real VIP extended her hand with easy warmth, her eyes briefly scanning my face beneath the mask.

Before I could introduce myself, the woman in the champagne gown jumped in again, her voice dipped in sugar.

"It is a masquerade, after all," she said lightly. "The whole point is to leave our names at the door and let the mystery do the mingling."

The Real VIP gave a polite nod . Then she turned toward me, her smile curious and just a touch amused.

"Your mask is quite memorable."

I returned her smile with practiced ease. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

"Would you like help selecting yours?" I offered smoothly, shifting my gaze toward her as if we were already co-conspirators.

Lucky for you I happened to be standing right here, huh?

She chuckled softly, clearly entertained.

"That would be lovely. You younger women always have such a better eye for these things."

Though visibly displeased, the woman in the champagne gown offered a brittle smile. "Yes, let’s see what we can find together."

Inside the mask room, the walls were lined with an impressive array of ornate disguises--velvet, feathers, sequins, crystals.

It was less masquerade and more haute couture showroom.

The Real VIP scanned the collection, visibly intrigued but a little dazed."So many options... it’s a bit much, isn’t it?"

"Actually," the woman in the champagne gown leaned in conspiratorially--though not nearly quietly enough--"I had something specially made just for you."

I pretended not to hear, turning my attention to a display of feathered masks like I was deeply invested in texture.

When a server appeared, carrying a gold-encrusted mask dripping in diamonds, even I had to admit--it was a showstopper.

"Exquisite," the Real VIP murmured, her gaze lingering. But then, with polite restraint, she turned to me.

"What do you think?"

"It’s certainly glamorous," I said, head slightly tilted in mock consideration, "but maybe a little... loud? It might steal attention from your own elegance instead of elevating it."

I gestured toward a soft lavender mask nestled in the corner, edged with delicate amethysts and just the right amount of shimmer.

"This one feels like confidence, not competition."

Her hand, mid-reach toward the gold mask, froze.

So this was Mrs. Dahlia herself. Queen bee in satin.

As for the Real VIP--the woman Dahlia was bending over backward to impress--that was still a mystery worth solving.

"I should get back to my friends," I said, seizing the first clean exit I could find.

I’d already stirred the pot enough for one night. No need to keep hovering and risk becoming the next item on the small-town gossip circuit.

But before I could step away, the Real VIP gently looped her arm through mine.

"Let’s walk together."

Well. Damn.

I couldn’t exactly say no to that.

"It would be my pleasure."

We moved through the corridor at an unhurried pace, her arm warm against mine, her perfume something expensive and subtle--floral, but grounded.

I could feel her watching me from the corner of her eye.

Then, in a voice just above a whisper: "...just like Rebecca."

I turned to look at her, puzzled.

"Something about you in that mint-green dress," she said, catching herself mid-thought. "You remind me of an old friend."

She gave a wistful little shake of her head. "Forgive me. Nostalgia tends to sneak up on you when you least expect it."

Then, with casual curiosity, the kind that was anything but casual:

"If you don’t mind my asking--what family are you from? I might know your parents."