The office was silent except for the ticking of the wall clock and the occasional buzz of Drew Lancaster's phone. The city stretched beneath him — a skyline of glass and fire — but he didn't look up once.
Contracts, mergers, negotiations — that was his world. Emotions were a luxury he had long since buried.
"Sign it," he said flatly, flipping a page across the desk toward his assistant. "And make sure the Chicago team gets the updated proposal by tonight. No delays."
"Yes, Mr. Lancaster."
Drew didn't bother looking up. His pen moved fast and clean, just like the man himself — ruthless precision wrapped in expensive silence.
It was 9:48 p.m., and his office was still lit like daylight. The man didn't know rest. Work was his distraction, his armor… his escape.
His gaze drifted briefly to the glass wall, where his reflection stared back at him — tailored suit, dark hair slightly disheveled, the faintest shadow under his eyes. He looked like success carved in marble… and loneliness disguised as control.
A knock interrupted the silence.
"Come in," he said without emotion.
Jax Carter, his oldest friend and business partner, strolled in like he owned the place — loose tie, easy grin, and trouble in his eyes.
"Still here, huh? You know, most people go home when the day ends."
Drew leaned back in his chair. "I'm not most people."
"Clearly. Because most people don't spend Friday nights drowning in spreadsheets instead of champagne." Jax tossed something onto the desk — a sleek black mask. "Get dressed. There's a masquerade downtown. Everyone important will be there."
"I'm busy," Drew muttered, eyes back on the laptop.
Jax chuckled. "You're always busy. That's kind of the problem. When's the last time you did something for yourself?"
The office needs me more than the outside do Jax you have to come to know this;
Drew, when was the last time you lay down with a woman after your wife left,when was the last time you let a woman hold you when was the last time you went into a woman and released yourself,i mean;you should let a woman handle you like a woman should,why not let go of everything and enjoy to night,Drew cut him short when he was about continuing his preaching,ok Jax I have heard but i would go on one condition.
And what would the condition be,Jax was extremely excited his friend was feeling going to let go even if it's going to be for one night:
'Oh" Drew there are going to be a lot of strippers girls in all sizes and the most beautiful part of it is that you get to lay with anyone you like in the vip
lounge.
Drew thought to himself he could use this one party to burn of some steams and one night won't change anything or how he see women,he's there only to have fun and release himself of two years,this could actually be fun he thought to himself.
He likes the fact that they're all going to be masked up no feelings attached,his identity will not be revealed and he could have fun and go home in peace.
Hey man what's your say;going or not?
Drew smirked faintly, but his eyes were unreadable.
"Fine," he said at last, shutting his laptop. "One drink. Then I'm leaving."
"Good," Jax said with a grin, already halfway out the door. "Just don't forget your mask. You never know who you might run into."
As the door closed, Drew looked down at the black mask lying on his desk. For a long moment, he didn't move.
He hated masks — lies, disguises, pretenses.
But that night, he'd wear one anyway.
Because sometimes, the only way to escape the past… is to face it without knowing you have.
The elevator hummed softly as it descended through the glass tower, cutting through floors of marble and silence. Drew Lancaster stood still, one hand in his pocket, the other tapping lightly against his phone screen — but his mind wasn't on emails or contracts this time.
He just needed to breathe.
For years, he'd built a routine out of control. The moment he lost it, even for a second, everything inside him went quiet — too quiet. That was when the thoughts came. So instead of going home, he walked.
The street outside was alive with Friday-night noise — traffic, laughter, the smell of rain on hot pavement. Drew adjusted the cuff of his shirt and moved without purpose, his polished shoes clicking steadily against the ground. For once, he wasn't heading anywhere specific.
He ended up a few blocks away at a small café tucked beside a bookshop — one of the few places in the city where nobody cared who he was. No headlines, no cameras, no polite fear in people's voices. Just the sound of jazz drifting through the open door and the hum of conversation.
He pushed it open.
The warmth hit him first. Then the smell — coffee, cinnamon, and something sweet that reminded him of winter mornings long before his name meant anything.
"Evening," the barista greeted, not recognizing him, which he appreciated more than he'd admit.
"Black," he said simply. "No sugar."
He chose a corner table, away from the chatter, and loosened his tie. The café windows glowed against the city lights outside, and for once, he let the noise fill the spaces in his head instead of numbers and strategy.
That was when he noticed her.