Behind the Mask

Part One - The Masquerade

Grand Ballroom-Night

Crystal chandeliers glow above a ballroom filled with masked guests. Champagne flows. A live orchestra plays near the dance floor.

I adjust my black masquerade mask and look around the room.

Another charity event.

Another night surrounded by people who have already decided who I am before speaking to me.

CAMILLE (V.O.)
Being twenty-eight, widowed, and ridiculously wealthy sounds glamorous when somebody else tells the story.

Trust me.

It isn't.

Three years ago, my husband died and left me with an estate, several properties, and a hospitality company worth more money than I knew what to do with.

I learned.

I work from home. I run meetings. I approve deals. I answer emails.

And apparently, according to half the people in this room, I spend the rest of my time bathing in champagne and counting hundred-dollar bills.

CAMILLE
(quietly, grabbing champagne)
God, I hate these things.

WOMAN BESIDE HER
I'm sorry?

CAMILLE
I said...I love these things.

The woman smiles.

I take a very necessary sip of champagne.

Then—

I see her.

Across the ballroom.

Burgundy gown.

Gold mask.

Dark hair cascading over one shoulder.

And she's staring directly at me.

CAMILLE (V.O.)
Oh.

Okay.

Who the hell is that?

SLOANE'S POV

I'd been ready to leave twenty minutes ago.

Then she walked in.

Black gown.

Black mask.

Beautiful brown skin.

And now I'm pretending to listen to a conversation about investment portfolios while watching a stranger across the room.

BUSINESSMAN
We're projecting another twelve percent by the fourth quarter.

SLOANE
Mhm.

BUSINESSMAN
Which could potentially—

She looks at me again.

My brain stops listening completely.

SLOANE
Absolutely.

BUSINESSMAN
...I asked whether you thought that sounded too optimistic.

SLOANE
Oh.

I finally look at him.

SLOANE
Then yes. Extremely optimistic.

He stares at me.

SLOANE (V.O.)
Fantastic.

I'm Sloane Kensington. Twenty-seven years old. CEO. Majority shareholder. Widow.