Pearl And The Masked Man

Pearl's POV

"YOU DIVORCED ALAN?!"

Vivienne’s voice tore through the pounding bass of the club, loud enough to make the heads of nearby patrons turn. Her bright blue eyes were wide with shock, her curly black hair bouncing as she leaned closer to me.

“Yes, I divorced Alan,” I shouted back, rolling my eyes as I took a sip of my martini. “I told you this already!”

“No, no, no,” Vivienne insisted, waving her manicured hand. “You said you were thinking about it. You didn’t say you actually did it! When did this happen?”

“Today!” I yelled, the thudding beat of the music forcing us to scream over it.

“Oh, my God!” she shrieked, grabbing my arm. “Finally!”

Shay, sitting calmly across the table with her signature poised demeanor, sipped her wine and gave me a knowing smile.

Her warm hazel eyes twinkled under the neon lights of the club. "About time, Pearl. I mean, the man was a walking red flag. I’m proud of you for leaving him.”

“Thanks, Shay,” I said, flashing her a grateful smile before Vivienne butted in again.

“But wait... what happened? You didn’t tell us the juicy details!” she demanded.

I hesitated, my eyes darting to the dance floor where bodies moved to the music. The truth still stung, but I knew I couldn’t avoid it.

"I caught him fucking another woman,” I said flatly, setting my glass down. “I found out this morning."

Vivienne’s jaw dropped, and Shay’s face hardened. “With who?” Shay asked.

“Siena."

Vivienne growled. "THAT BITCH!"

I smiled ruefully. “I walked in on them in our bedroom. He didn’t even bother to hide it.”

Vivienne gasped so loudly that even the DJ seemed to falter. “You walked in on them?! In your house?!”

“Yup.” I downed the rest of my martini in one gulp. “I left, told my lawyers to prepare divorce papers, and now here I am. Free.”

Shay shook her head, her several face piercings glinting under the light. She reached across the table and placed a hand on mine. “You deserve better, Pearl. Alan was an idiot to mess this up.”

“Damn right!” Vivienne chimed in, tossing her curly hair over her shoulder. “Now, enough about him. We’re here to celebrate your freedom! Drinks and dancing and maybe some cute guys to flirt with.”

“Or girls,” Shay added, her gaze drifting to a tall brunette in a red dress who was dancing near the bar.

Vivienne caught the direction of her gaze and smirked. “Shay, you’re shameless.”

Shay shrugged, a sly grin spreading across her face. “What can I say? Strong women in heels are my weakness.”

I laughed for the first time in what felt like years, a genuine, deep laugh that bubbled up from my chest. “You two are impossible.”

“And you love us for it,” Vivienne said with a wink. “Now, speaking of strong and sexy, have you heard about Everett Langford?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

Vivienne leaned in with mischief in her eyes. “Everett Langford. Business tycoon, filthy rich, always wears a mask, but nobody knows why. They say he’s ruthless, cold, and terrifyingly hot.”

Shay snorted. “A mask? Seriously? What is this, a billionaire superhero story?”

“No, I’m serious!” Vivienne insisted. “He’s in his late forties, but women lose their minds over him. I mean, no one really knows why he wears the mask, but apparently, it only makes him more mysterious and irresistible. If he asked for one night, no woman would say no. I definitely would not say no.”

I scoffed, leaning back in my seat. “An older guy in a mask? Please. If he were younger, maybe I’d be interested. But I'm just twenty five. He's too old for me, and frankly, no man is that attractive.”

As if on cue, the energy in the room shifted. The chatter around us grew hushed, and heads turned toward the entrance. We stopped our conversation and followed their gazes.

He walked in like he owned the place. He was tall, broad-shouldered and showing an aura of power so intense it felt like he stole the very air in the room. His ink-black hair was perfectly styled, held up in a ponytail, and his piercing blue eyes, visible even from across the room, scanned the crowd with a detached confidence.

And then there was the mask. It looked like it was made of pure gold, and it covered the left side of his face, but it didn’t look as bad as I thought it would. If anything, it made him more intriguing, more commanding.

Everett Langford.

“Speak of the devil,” Vivienne whispered as she nudged me. "Oh, God. He Is so unbelievably hot!"

I hated how my pulse quickened at the sight of him, how my gaze involuntarily traced the sharp cut of his jaw and the way his suit clung to his muscular frame. I didn’t even know the man, but something about him made my skin tingle.

To cover my reaction, I turned to Vivienne and rolled my eyes. “He’s not that impressive,” I grunted. "Okay, he's wearing a mask. And so what?"

Vivienne raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because you look like you’re about to combust.”

“I’m not,” I snapped. “If anything, that mask is ridiculous. What’s he hiding? A bad facelift?”

Shay stifled a laugh behind her glass, and Vivienne shot me a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Sure, Pearl. Whatever you say.”

I ignored her, grabbing my bag and standing abruptly. “This party’s boring. Let’s find another club.”

Vivienne and Shay exchanged confused glances but didn’t argue. They followed me out of the club, the thumping music fading into the background as we stepped into the cool night air.

As we walked toward the car, I couldn’t shake the image of Everett Langford from my mind. I clenched my jaw, forcing the thoughts away. He was just a man, a stranger I would never see again. And yet, as I climbed into the car with my friends, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was so drawn to him.

It made no sense. I’d never met him before.

But something about Everett Langford had already found a place in my mind and I hated it.