“Is everything going smoothly?”

Fiona growled. Whether it was directed at me or her smartphone—I had no idea. Either way, I found it funny enough to warrant a chuckle.

“Multiple guests have arrived without a mask. Jonas took the ones he found in the coat room but wants to know if there are any more lying around.”

Her voice was distracted, so I spared a glance at her reflection in the mirror. She was staring down at her phone, her fingers rapidly flying over the screen as she typed a response.

“Are there more?”

“Yes. I had a feeling that a lot of the guests wouldn’t take notice of the extra line, so I prepared accordingly.”

“This is why you’re my ideal assistant, Fiona. Well done.”

I was straightening my vest when I noticed her looking up to meet my eyes in the mirror. The look on her face was nothing short of murderous. It was truly a struggle to hold back my smile.

“You realize that I’ve been working sixteen-hour days for the past week trying to prepare for this random whim of yours, don’t you? What on earth possessed you to take over hosting this year? Bryan could have—”

“It was time for something different,” I interrupted. I’d had more than my fill of arguing about this while trying to convince Bryan to let me take over. “Tonight will be a night to remember.”

“I’ll certainly remember it,” she muttered.

“I’m aware of how much you’ve been working and you’ll be compensated accordingly,” I said evenly.

No need to mention that as long as things went according to plan, she’d have a very light workload for the next few weeks to make up for the overtime. I’d hate to get her prematurely excited when there were so many variables that factored into how this would play out.

“Fair enough,” she said with a sigh. “But I would still like to know why you—”

“My reasons are my own.”

The same response I gave to Bryan numerous times. He couldn’t understand why I wanted to take control of the annual Halloween party he threw at his mansion, but he gave in easily enough. Considering the amount of work he’d been putting in since his takeover of a rival company, I think he actually appreciated not having to think about it for once.

“Do you have my mask?”

Fiona let out a huff of frustration before spinning on her heel and heading for her bags. She dug through them as I put on my cape and adjusted everything to perfection. I slicked my hair back once more, grinning at myself in the mirror as she approached from behind.

The plain white mask covered the entire upper half of my face and fit flawlessly—crafted to my exact specifications. Once I made sure it was securely fastened, I turned around to face Fiona.

She raised an eyebrow and dryly asked, “The Phantom? Really?”

“While I’m aware that it’s a bit of a cliché, you know that I have a soft spot for both musical theater and classic literature. The Phantom is the most logical choice.”

“Are you telling me your choice had nothing to do with the fact that you get to wear a cape?”

“I refuse to answer such a ridiculous question.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“Are the security feeds currently being monitored?” I asked, changing the subject before she could continue to bother me about my choice of costume.

“I imagine so.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ll pop in to check on things before heading downstairs. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Fantastic. Text me if anything comes up.”

I left the room before she could respond, both to avoid more questions about my motivations for the party and so she could return to work. Everything needed to go smoothly tonight.

The biggest concern was that everyone needed to keep their masks on. Without the forced anonymity they provided, my plan was likely to fall apart before I had a chance to move the pieces into place.

I stopped by the room that held the security monitors, grateful to see that both men assigned to the task were focusing intently on the screens. One of them glanced at me as I entered and gave me a friendly nod.

“Good evening, Mr. Stone.”

“Good evening. Is everything going well?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve got men stationed around the house ready to deal with any rulebreakers.”

“Fantastic. I’ll have the kitchen send up fresh coffee and something to eat. Do you need anything else?”

“No, sir. We’ve got it from here.”

“Excellent.”

I turned to leave, stopping when the crackle of a walkie-talkie hit my ears.

“Please let Mr. Stone know that his favored guest has arrived,” Jonas said from the other end.

“Message received,” I confirmed with a grin before spinning around and heading for the door.

Let the game begin.