Wild Horses

Behind the Mask

a/n this story is currently #1 in guidomista! thanks yall!

The sounds of soft chatter and clinking glasses filled the air as Lira, Fugo, and Narancia made their way into the grand hall of the castle. Their fancy clothes and beautifully ornate masks made sure that they looked every bit the part of upper-crust socialites attending a masquerade ball. "Army of Lovers" played softly in the background and grew louder as they approached the ballroom where people were dancing.

Their eyes darted around as they made their way in the crowd, scanning the masks of the other guests - were they all Passione? Lira gave a subtle nod to Abbacchio and Mista, who had arrived earlier and were already mingling with the crowd. They each had a woman on their arm. The two mafiosos had already connected most of the women from the club with their dates for the night. A few dateless gals free-floated and mingled with glasses of wine in their hands. Mista looked like he was right at home - Lira knew he went out alot and chatted up the ladies, of course he would be comfortable here. Abbacchio, conversely, was as stiff as a board. He gripped a glass of champagne and looked like he was struggling to not gulp it down. Lira thought she could almost hear him huff through his mask from across the great hall as his arranged date chatted to him.

Well, the masquerade certainly looked convincing. People were dancing and laughing as though they didn't have a care in the world. Bucciarati, on the other hand, remained vigilant, although he kept stealing glances in Lira's direction, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He couldn't help but trail his eyes up and down her form. Would it be irresponsible to ask her for a dance? he pondered to himself.

Fugo and Narancia, meanwhile, moved through the crowd with their fingers intertwined, their eyes scanning the gathering for unfamiliar faces. Or , more accurately, unfamiliar costumes. They were on high alert, and Narancia was ready to call Aerosmith out at any sign of trouble.

"Bucciarati's checking you out!" Narancia whispered with excitement to Lira.

"Oh god," Lira gasped when she saw him. He looked stunning in his black velvet regency outfit with gold trim. It suited him, in a weird way. His face was hidden by a strange white mask with a metallic hand covering one side, and his hair was pulled back into a bun. "How can you tell he's even looking at me with that mask on?" she whispered back.

"Because you're in the room!" Narancia said cheekily with a giggle. As if to prove the smallest member of his crew right, Bucciarati started walking over to them.

"Madame," Bucciarati said as he gently took Lira's hand and brought it towards his masked face. "May I have this dance?"

Lira felt a rush of hotness to her cheeks as she slipped her hand into his. Bucciarati led her out onto the dance floor, and it was painfully obvious that all heads had turned to look at the gorgeous couple. Bruno wrapped his arm around Lira's waist and pulled her close to him as Seal's "Kiss from a Rose" started playing.

"Amore mio," he growled in her ear, "you look irresistible." He traced her shoulder strap with his fingers and moved them to the pearl strings.

Lira felt shivers roll up her spine. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a short man in an porcelain mask watching them. Pericolo. "Bru...errm," she caught herself. This was an undercover mission. Using names was not an option. "Is this appropriate? I mean, we're not here to play."

"I'm not playing," he said seductively, still growling. "Red jester 6 o'clock. It's him." Bucciarati twirled Lira around her so she could see what had been behind her. Through the crowd, she spotted him: Stromboli in a red jester mask.