All Chapters of Masked By Millions : Chapter 91 - Chapter 99

The velvet curtain rose on the reconstructed showroom, the scent of fresh fabric mingling with tension thick enough to cut. Zara Milli Lane stood in the wings, arms crossed over her deep emerald silk blazer, eyes scanning every detail with razor precision. This was her comeback show—her reclaiming, her resurrection. And she would not let the ghosts of the past burn it down.She barely blinked when a stagehand whispered something about a fuse sparking backstage. She waved it off. “I said no rewiring today. No last-minute changes. Let it ride.”Across the room, Alec leaned against the wall in a steel-gray suit, dark eyes narrowed behind tinted lenses. His phone buzzed. Private line. Unknown number.He didn’t answer it.Instead, his gaze was locked on Mathias Langdon, standing near the bar in an obsidian-black jacket, sipping whisky like he owned the place. His return hadn’t been announced—he simply appeared. Uninvited. Unbothered. Unpredictable.Zara hadn’t seen him yet.“You’re not don

The sky over Milan cracked open with thunder, like the gods themselves were applauding her return.Zara Lane stood on the rooftop of the Phoenix Studio’s newest satellite office, her hair soaked, her heels planted like a warrior queen returned from exile.“We’re live in five,” whispered Milo, adjusting the camera drone as it hovered above them. “This is going to break the internet.”“It better,” Zara said. “We’re going to war.”Beneath them, thirty models dressed in the banned Crimson Revival line strutted down an illegal runway built into the Piazza del Duomo. Broadcasts were being intercepted, every screen in Italy hijacked. The phoenix wasn’t rising.It was burning down the old world.⸻Down in the control van, Alec watched it unfold.“She did it,” breathed Dominic.But Alec’s jaw was clenched.Something wasn’t right.⸻Backstage, a woman in a wide-brimmed red hat lit a clove cigarette and tilted her head as the models walked by.She wore vintage Alaïa.Custom blood-red stilettos.

The runway lights still blazed behind her, but Zara couldn’t hear the applause anymore. Her heart was pounding in her ears, drowning out the world. Alec met her backstage, eyes scanning her face like he was memorizing her.“She sent the photo during your walk,” he said. “Your dad’s still alive. But Vanessa’s not letting go. Yet.”Zara pulled off her stilettos. “What does she want now?”“To break you publicly. The show wasn’t enough for her—now she wants a confession. She wants you to hold a press conference and admit to ‘exploiting workers’ or she’ll start sending pieces.”Zara’s blood turned to ice.“She wouldn’t,” she whispered.Alec nodded. “She would.”She turned away from him, her mind spinning with fury, desperation—and something else.Resolve.“Then we’ll give her something worse than the truth,” she said. “We’ll give her exposure. Public, permanent, inescapable exposure. But on her.”⸻Two Hours LaterIn the security room of Blackwell Industries, Zara sat with three screens in

Zara Milli Lane was not afraid of wars.Not when she’d survived betrayal, heartbreak, and the ruthless city that chewed women like her alive and spat them out weaker. But she had grown fangs. She had built her kingdom with needles, fabric, and fire. What she hadn’t expected was to be standing in the middle of Alec Blackwell’s world, now burning from the inside out.The private jet hit the runway in Venice—discreet, fast, and untraceable. Alec sat across from her, bruised from the ambush that had nearly killed him three nights ago.“She wants everything,” Alec muttered, his voice low.Zara didn’t need to ask who she was. Juliette.His ex. The woman who orchestrated her father’s kidnapping and now stood at the head of a hostile takeover involving not just Alec’s empire, but Zara’s fashion house too.“She wants my head,” he added, rubbing his jaw. “And yours. Figuratively, for now.”Zara’s jaw clenched. “She’s not getting it. Either of them.”He gave her a look—equal parts admiration and

The penthouse was quiet, save for the soft flicker of candlelight and the low hum of jazz that played in the background. Alec leaned against the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city glow beneath him. But it wasn’t the view that made his chest tight. It was her.Zara Lane stood at the entrance of the bedroom in a silk robe the color of crushed wine. Her hair was undone, wild waves falling down her back, and her bare feet padded softly across the marble floor. She said nothing—just let the robe slip from her shoulders.It puddled at her feet.“Fuck,” Alec breathed.She walked toward him with the confidence of a woman who knew every part of him, every corner of his soul and body, and had claimed it all. Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer.“You kept your promise,” she whispered.“Which one?” His voice was a rasp. “I’ve made you a thousand.”Zara kissed him. Slow, deep, consuming. “The one where you said you’d burn the world to keep me safe. And I watched you do i