...approached the table of food

She approached the table of food in the corner, her eyes drawn to a platter of tiny pastries topped with glistening caviar. She took one, popping it into her mouth, savoring the rich, salty taste. She was so distracted by the decadent flavor that she didn't notice the group of masked guests standing next to the table.

A man in a jaguar mask raised his glass, his voice carrying over the soft hum of conversation. “The northern jungles are a goldmine—literally. You’d be amazed at what we’re pulling out of there. Of course, we’ve had to ‘convince’ a few officials to skip their inspections.” His tone was light, as though discussing an investment strategy, not illegal mining.

“That’s nothing,” a woman in a crimson rose mask chimed in. “Do you know how easy it is to bribe the guerillas there to only attack our rivals? They are so ****, they’ll do anything. We funnel a little cash, a few guns, and voilà— no more competition.” She laughed, sipping her champagne. “Honestly, it’s an art.”

Her companion, a man wearing a half wolf mask, smirked. "But the best part? All those deaths are chalked up to the communists, not us. It's brilliant, really."

The first man, the jaguar, leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I heard the Presidente was killed by guerillas. Do you think -"

"No, Mr. Jaguar." The woman in the rose mask cut him off firmly. "And if you intend on keeping your head on your shoulders, you will not continue with that line of thought. This place might appear safe, but prying ears have a way of showing up where they are least expected."

A wave of tension hung over the group, and Isabella felt her heart beat faster. She quickly looked away, turning her attention back to the food. But the woman in the rose mask had sensed her.

"Newcomer?" She asked, her tone dangerously light. "I don't recognize you. What brings you to the lion's den, my little serpent?"

"Curiosity," Isabella replied, forcing a smile.

The woman's expression was impossible to read behind her mask, but she seemed amused.

"Ah, yes. Curiosity is the first step on the road to damnation. And what did you discover, little serpent? Anything interesting?"

"I'm not sure yet," she said, hoping her nervousness didn't show.

The woman chuckled. "Well, then let me welcome you properly. My name is Rose. These are my friends, Mr. Wolf and Mr. Jaguar."

Isabella nodded politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Rose glanced at her companions. "Leave us, boys. I'm sure there's plenty more wine to drink and gossip to share."

Wolf and Jaguar bowed respectfully, their movements fluid and graceful.

"Goodnight, Rose. And to our newest member of the herd. Welcome to the fold."

"Thank you."

The men walked away, their steps synchronized.

"So," Rose began, "how do you like the party?"

Isabella hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"It's... different," she admitted.

Rose laughed, a sound that was both melodic and harsh. "That's one way of putting it. I find it rather refreshing. In the day, I have to conform with society, go to all those stuffy gatherings, dinners with boring dignitaries. This is the real Montesoro. The power. The greed. The corruption. And the sheer, unbridled pleasure. You can't deny that it's exciting, even for someone as innocent and pure as you."

Isabella bristled at the comment. Have her identity been discovered?

"Who says I'm innocent?"

Rose laughed again, a cruel edge to her voice.

"You don't belong here, little serpent. I can tell. Your mask might hide your face, but it will reveal who you are."

"And who am I?"

"I have no idea, not yet," Rose replied. "But I look forward to finding out."

She left, leaving Isabella alone. She breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension leave her body. Rose's words had rattled her, and she wondered if her disguise was truly enough to conceal her identity. But the party was still in full swing, and there were still revelers to observe.