The Billionaire's Masquerade Ball

By Emma St. Clair

A modern-day Cinderella story ... with a twist.

Billionaire Xander Callahan certainly seems to have it all. But a painful secret in his past keeps him from anything more than surface relationships. When a mystery woman captures his attention at his masquerade gala, Xander considers opening himself to love again--until she disappears.

After losing her father, Cynder Glass is stuck slaving under her ladder-climbing stepmother. When she sneaks into the masquerade gala she helped plan, Cynder is swept off her feet by their billionaire client. But if her stepmother finds out, she will lose her job and her chance to keep her father's legacy alive.

When his past and her identity are revealed, is there any chance for a happy ending?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma St. Clair
• Release date: Aug 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223251651

Book preview

Chapter One

Spare no expense, Xander Callahan said with a smirk. Even with his gaze on the Chicago skyline, he sensed an eye roll coming from Judy, his executive assistant. It was two weeks before Christmas, and though there was no snow on the ground, the gray sky seemed poised with the promise of it any moment.

He spun in time to see Judy shaking her head with the slightest hint of a smile. He grinned, feeling like he had won. As the CEO of Obsidian Development and a self-made billionaire, Xander could use that kind of clichéd phrase and actually put the money behind it. But he only used it to get under Judy’s skin. His personal assistant, Wyatt, smiled from his seat at the conference table, but when Xander sent him a stern look, he immediately went back to looking serious.

Judy muttered something under her breath.

What was that you said? Xander asked.

Nothing I care to repeat if you didn’t hear it the first time, Judy said.

"I think what Judy meant is that she’ll get right on it," Wyatt offered. Now Judy glared at him.

I don’t need you to speak for me, boy, Judy said.

Xander clapped his hands. Judy lowered her chin and gave him a scorching look over the rim of her glasses. Let’s focus, please.

They were putting together the final details for the gala launching his new charity. All jokes aside, Xander wanted everything to be perfect. The Sarah Ryder Foundation would benefit pancreatic cancer research and also offer support for families going through treatment and recovery. It was much more important to Xander than anything he’d worked on, even though this wouldn’t bring in any income. Not that he needed any since he and his former partner Jake had taken Obsidian public the previous year.

Xander planned to give substantial amounts from his personal fortune, but starting a charity was a dream he’d had for a long time. Using his business contacts and the masquerade gala as a starting-off point, Xander hoped that within a year the charity would move into phase two, where they could start building some support centers similar to the Ronald McDonald House. These would offer lodging for all kinds of cancer patients and their families, though the bulk of research funds and support would still go to pancreatic cancer. It was about time that he did something good with his money.

Judy sighed. Can you be more specific? ‘Spare no expense’ is a little broad. Since we’ve received so many donations and sponsorships, there isn’t much need for you to dump more into this ball.

Xander smiled at Judy, who had one eyebrow arched. "I wouldn’t exactly call putting money towards a charity gala dumping it."

If this were money simply for the charity, I would agree. But you’re talking about what is essentially a massive party for the who’s who of Chicago.

A massive party that will get donors opening up their wallets, Xander said.

He’s right, Wyatt said. In a quieter tone, he said, Even if it is a disgusting display of excess.

Wyatt? Xander said. How important is this job to you? I mean, in the grand scheme of things.

Wyatt swallowed. Very, sir. Sorry, sir.

Xander beamed. Then we understand each other?

Wyatt nodded and bent his head as though he could hide behind his laptop and his shaggy blond hair. Judy shook her head but made notes on her legal pad. Though some CEOs wouldn’t put up with assistants who spoke this way, Xander relished in Judy’s sharp tongue and Wyatt’s honesty. People constantly buttered him up and told him what he wanted to hear, just hoping to get on his good side. Too bad they didn’t know the key to his good side was cutting through the fluff and being honest.

Wyatt hadn’t quite earned the right to talk to him the way Judy did. He’d only worked at Obsidian for two years, starting right after he’d graduated from Northwestern. He was brilliant and loyal but still had a lot to learn. Xander enjoyed goading him. Every emotion showed right on his boyish face. Mostly he looked terrified of Xander, but he was slipping more and more into a softer version of Judy. He was starting to understand that Xander had a lot more bark than bite. But he was still easy to scare into silence with just a look.

Judy had worked for Xander since the beginning and was the closest thing to a mother that he had. A mother who also had keen business acumen. While many people saw his former partner and young real estate phenom, Jake, as Xander’s biggest asset, Xander would have said that it was really Judy. She was his best-kept secret and vastly underestimated because of her age. People seemed to treat older people as though they had an expiration date on usefulness, especially women. They couldn’t be more wrong.

It had been hard to move forward when Jake resigned and moved to Texas after meeting his now-wife Shelby, but Obsidian kept right on rolling. Whenever Judy retired though, Xan might as well. He couldn’t imagine coming to work without her.

Judy’s face remained impassive as she wrote.

Judy, dear—don’t you think that I know how to get the social elite of Chicago to part with their money? Xander asked. He clucked his tongue at her. I had no idea you were such a pessimist. Or had so little faith in me.

She huffed. Don’t make me come over there and smack that grin off your face, son. I think this is the best thing you’ve done with your business. It’s just that you’ve had sponsors cover most of the gala costs already. At this point, you’re dropping cash to pretty things up that may not need to be prettied. I’m thinking of your ROI. Are you going to get more money for the Foundation by having— She paused to look at her notes. —six ice sculptures?

Do you have any idea how attractive it is when you use words like ROI? He wiggled his eyebrows at her. Wyatt laughed, then ducked again behind the computer.

Judy chuckled as well. Don’t get fresh with me, boy.

You’re right to worry about return on investment, though, Xander said, putting a hand to his chin as though thinking hard. "Let’s make it eight ice sculptures."

You are completely impossible, Judy said.

I know. That’s why I’m glad you’re around to keep me in line, Judy. Don’t forget that your Christmas bonus will reflect that.

She stood and slipped on her gray flats. He liked that she felt comfortable enough in his office to take her shoes off. If you hang that Christmas bonus over my head one more time to try and get me to do things for you …

Xander smiled. Your Christmas bonus was sent via direct deposit this morning. I think you’ll be quite pleased.

In that case, I’m leaving for the day, Judy said, heading for the door.

Xander laughed, knowing full-well that she would be there as late as he was tonight. Typically, he ended the day accompanying her down to the parking garage below their building. When he couldn’t, he sent Wyatt or someone from security. Not that the building wasn’t safe. But after years of this routine, Xan felt odd about letting her walk alone.

Is Jake coming? Judy said, pausing in the doorway.

He’ll be here, Xander said.

Good. Tell him to stop in and see me if he has time. I won’t be at the gala. I have no desire to rub elbows with Chicago’s elite and I don’t need a gala to open my wallet. Now if we could only get you to settle down with a nice girl like his Shelby …

Xander chuckled. Nice? That’s probably the last word you should use to describe Shelby. Fiery is more like it.

I’ve heard the stories. I appreciate a woman who carries a gun and has a pet alligator. Plus, I saw that lovesick look on Jake’s face before he moved to Texas.

Xander smiled at this. Jake did return from the trip to Texas where he met Shelby looking miserable. He had fallen hard and fast. Xander didn’t resent the relationship, even though it meant that Jake resigned, but jealousy sometimes flashed through him. Jake had a happiness that Xander had once known and never would again. Which is exactly why Xander kept his feelings locked up tight. No sense in even hoping for a second chance at love. He’d had his day and lost it.

Judy continued. "I didn’t mean ‘nice’ as in boring. I meant ‘nice’ as in not one of those high-society strumpets you’re always out and about with. Different one for every event. Don’t think I don’t notice."

Wyatt coughed, but it sounded more like a choked bit of laughter he was trying to hide. Xander’s mouth was already hanging open, but almost dropped to the floor when Wyatt spoke up.

"I’m pretty certain that the purpose of the ‘high society strumpets,’ as you so adequately called them, Judy, is to keep Xander from actually meeting a nice girl, Wyatt said. They’re his shield."

Wyatt was even sharper than he’d realized. Xander knew everyone was aware of his playboy reputation. Hard to avoid with photos in the society pages and on local blogs. But he wasn’t trying to avoid them. He’d carefully crafted this public image, even though that’s all it was: an image. Better that than people being all up in the business of his personal life. It kept him from having to answer questions about relationships truthfully.

The truth was that his relationships were shockingly G-rated. Women didn’t ever get a second date or more than a kiss on the cheek, despite what many of them claimed publicly. Some women had claimed a lot of things to get their fifteen minutes of media attention.

He didn’t really care about what people thought about him. Or, rather, he didn’t care if they thought he was a playboy. There were other things he very much hoped would stay forever hidden from the public gaze.

But hearing Judy about his bad-boy reputation filled Xander with shame. And with a longing that he forced back down. No room for that.

He steeled his face and leveled a look at Wyatt, who cowered a bit, dropping his eyes. I had no idea that psychoanalyzing me was anywhere in either of your job descriptions.

Judy shook a finger at him. I may not know why, but I do know a man running from his past when I see one. You’ve got a mystery to you, Alexander. I know if you wanted to talk about it, you would. But I just hope you don’t let whatever hurt you suffered in the past stop you from having a future that’s happy. I think it’s time you ditch the bimbos and gold-diggers and let yourself fall in love.

Hearing the words bimbos and gold-diggers come out of Judy’s mouth was too much. Xan put a hand to the back of his neck. I, um…

Judy chuckled as she left the office. I love seeing you speechless. It happens so rarely, too. I should take a picture, but I’ve got an ice sculpture order to amend.

Xander’s cell phone was buzzing in his pocket as Judy closed the door. He was thankful for the interruption until he saw the caller ID, which read Olivia Prescott DO NOT ANSWER. His lips curled, and he let it ring in his palm for a moment, weighing his options. Olivia was one of his more recent dates and harder to shake than most. Judy’s words echoed in his mind as he answered.

Olivia, dear. To what do I owe the pleasure?

Her laugh grated in his ear. When she spoke, it was in a soft purr that he knew she meant to be flirty. It was almost as hard to listen to as her laugh. Speaking of pleasure …

He should have been more careful with his choice of words. I’m actually at work, so unless this is business, I’m going to have to go.

Why choose? Business and pleasure go well together.

Cut to the chase, Liv. I’ve got a meeting.

She sighed, and he could almost picture her full lips pouting. "Fine. I’m covering the masquerade gala for the Tribune and just wanted to make sure I had an invite."

I can issue you a press pass and have it at the door, Xander said.

You mean you weren’t going to invite me like a regular guest? I thought I meant more to you than that.

Xander dropped into his leather office chair and pressed his free hand over his eyes. Maybe Judy was right about this, too. Even if he didn’t have any plans to find a nice girl and settle down, the cost of keeping up his image was becoming too high. Some of the women had been truly hurt when he never called them or asked them out again. He hated seeing the disappointment at the end of dates when he gave a cool goodbye and made no promises to call again.

Most of them didn’t have his personal number and he wished that he hadn’t given it to Olivia. A huge lapse in judgment on his part, since she had been hounding him for weeks now under the guise of needing information for articles.

I can get you an invitation if that’s what you want, Xander said. The press pass would be easier but let me know. I’ll have my administrative assistant take care of the details.

"Xan, that sounds so impersonal. I thought maybe I might be your date. But then when I didn’t hear from you, I at least thought I’d be invited to your big event. I really thought we connected."

The only connection had been the kiss she plastered onto his lips when he walked her to the door of her building. She had practically shoved him up against the wall, her doorman looking horrified. Xander felt like he was lucky to escape with none of his clothing ripped off when he had jerked away.

Normally he would have pulled the plug completely on even answering her calls, but she had started hinting that she would use her position with the press to drag him down. Until the gala and the official launch of the foundation, Xan couldn’t afford anything negative in the press.

Liv, sweetie, I’m afraid I’m not interested in a relationship with you. But let me know if you’d like the invitation or the press pass. Either one. I want to make sure you have what you need to cover the event.

I need to get some quotes from you. Maybe over a dinner…

I’ll have my admin assistant get you set up with a time for a phone interview sometime this week. Talk with you soon, Liv.

Xander could hear her protesting in a whiny voice as he hung up the phone. Wyatt, I need to make sure that Olivia Prescott has a press pass and is on the guest list as a guest.

She needs both, sir?

Xander sighed. She is very needy, yes.

It’s done, Wyatt said. If you don’t need me for anything else at the moment, I need to go over some details. I’m going to make the calls from the conference room.

That’s fine. By the way, your bonus was also deposited into your account today. I hope I don’t need to remind you that I still need you on top of your game until the gala is over. Then we’ll have one more week and Christmas vacation.

Wyatt grinned as he closed his laptop. "Thank you, Xander. Uh, I mean, sir."

Xander held back a smile at Wyatt’s slip as he darted out of the room. He had almost earned the status of getting to call Xander by his first name. After Jake left, Wyatt had quickly become almost his replacement, at least as far as conversation and companionship. But it was too soon to let Wyatt know or to create a higher position for him. Soon, but not yet.

Xander sat behind his desk, looking at his daily schedule on his phone. A text from Olivia popped up and he ignored it. Next week the gala would be over, and he could more officially and firmly let Olivia know not to call or text him again. She would probably make him pay publicly in the pages of the paper. Xan could take it as long as it didn’t hurt the Foundation’s launch. He also knew one of the higher-ups at the Tribune. If it came to that, he could have a word with him. Maybe that could prevent Olivia from doing too much damage.

He could only hope.

Chapter Two

Cydner Glass glared at her computer screen, hoping that her face wasn’t visible to the rest of the small office right now. She read and reread the email, shaking her head. They were seriously not letting her go to the masquerade gala she had planned?

Then again, she thought bitterly, I shouldn’t be surprised.

When her father died, leaving the control of his boutique event-planning company under the control of her stepmother Gail, Cynder knew that it would be a nightmare. Six months later she was realizing that she vastly underestimated how big of a nightmare.

The staff of Looking Glass Events had always been small, just Cynder, her father, and a few other long-time employees. They only took on a few high-end clients, so it made sense to keep their in-house operation small and contract out to trusted vendors as necessary. They had some big, important clients who booked them again and again for their professionalism and great work.

When Gail took over, she cleaned house, bringing in her two daughters, Eliza and Crystal, and her son Patrick. The three of them had little interest in the business. All of them seemed to treat Looking Glass as simply a means of connecting with the high society they longed to be a part of.

Your father wanted this place to be like family, Gail had explained when Cynder protested. I’m just making changes to reflect his values.

Values—ha! As far