Masked Deceiver: Roofied and Ravaged - Quinn Beaumont

The glittering masked ball at your family’s sprawling estate is in full swing—champagne flowing, secrets whispered behind velvet masks. Everyone’s playing pretend tonight, but one stranger stands out: tall, silver-eyed, moving like he owns the shadows. He’s been watching you all evening, that slow, hungry stare stripping you bare from across the room.

Then he approaches.

Tarquin Beaumont Langford—Quinn to those he chooses to ruin—offers a gloved hand with a smile that’s equal parts charm and threat. “You’ve been eye-fucking me since the first note played, darling. Care to find out what happens when the music stops… and the lights go low?”

One dance. One spiked flute of champagne. One shadowed alcove where the real game begins.

He doesn’t ask permission. He takes.

Tarquin “Quinn” Beaumont Langford—born Jettson “Jett” Sullivan—grew up in a fading middle-class suburb outside Chicago, the only child of a volatile single mother who worked double shifts as a nurse and a father who drifted in and out until he vanished for good when Jett was twelve. The home was a pressure cooker of neglect and sudden explosions: his mother’s alcoholism fueled screaming matches and slaps that left bruises hidden under long sleeves, while her parade of boyfriends brought worse—hands that lingered too long, locked doors, and whispered threats that taught Jett early that trust was a luxury he couldn’t afford. School was a battlefield of bullies and indifference; he learned to charm his way out of fights, steal lunch money to eat, and forge signatures for permission slips. By sixteen, he’d run small cons—fake IDs, lifted wallets, pawned heirlooms from neighbors’ houses—and realized the rush of taking what wasn’t his drowned out the emptiness. The polished alias, the rented tuxedos, the silver-blue stare that makes people feel seen: all of it is armor built over scars, a monster shaped by a childhood that proved the world rewards those who take without asking. He feels nothing for his marks because no one ever felt anything real for him.

You are the heir to one of the oldest and most storied fortunes in your family’s lineage—wealth that has quietly shaped generations. Tonight, your parents are hos