All Chapters of Masked By Millions : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The footage still echoed in the walls of the Palais Garnier.Security had hauled Juliette out screaming, mascara streaking like inked confessions. Bianca had disappeared, slipping away in the chaos like the serpent she was. Valerius? He remained rooted in his seat, arms folded, watching the flames he helped light consume the room.And in the center of it all—Zara stood tall.No apologies.No fear.Only fire.The crowd had turned electric. Designers whispered in huddles. Media swarmed. Phones recorded every gasp. And through it all, Zara walked off the runway like a queen who’d just executed a coup.Backstage, Nora sobbed into her headset. “You did it,” she whispered. “Zara, you—”“I know,” Zara murmured. But her voice wasn’t victorious.It was trembling.She reached for the velvet curtain and slipped out the side exit before the mob could descend. She needed air. Silence. A moment alone before the world twisted this into a headline.Except she wasn’t alone.Alec stood there, waiting i

The revelation of her mother’s survival was a ghost that refused to rest. Zara stood at the window of Alec’s penthouse, overlooking the Seine’s restless flow, the city’s lights flickering like distant memories. In her hands was the folder Sienna had delivered—stamped with evidence of her mother’s clandestine existence and a network of betrayals that wound through every corner of Zara’s life.Alec entered, silent as midnight. He watched her shoulder shake when she unfolded a photograph: a younger version of Zara’s mother, Vivienne Lane, alive—smiling—standing beside a man with the same cold eyes as Valerius Noir.“Tell me you’re kidding,” Zara whispered, voice brittle.Alec crossed the room in two strides. “There’s more,” he said, placing fresh documents on the table: financial records, shipping manifests, legal papers—proof that Vivienne had faked her death to escape an empire built on trafficking, then re-emerged as a silent partner in Noir’s new syndicate.Zara’s breath caught. “So

Zara hadn’t slept.Not because of Alec—though his presence beside her, his hands, his mouth, the tension he poured into every inch of her body, had left her reeling and breathless—but because something felt off.Wrong.She was still in his penthouse, still wrapped in silk sheets and his scent, and yet her gut wouldn’t stop twisting.Alec stirred beside her, arm sliding over her waist with a possessiveness that was both soothing and infuriating.“You’re thinking too loudly,” he muttered into her hair.“I can’t afford not to.”He shifted, lifting himself to look down at her. “Zara—last night, the courtroom, your mother—it’s too much in too little time.”“And yet the world won’t slow down for me to process.”He leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder. “Then we make it slow down.”Zara didn’t answer.Because her phone vibrated on the nightstand.She reached for it, tension snapping through her spine as she saw the name on the screen.Unknown Number.One text. One image.It was her father

Zara didn’t celebrate.Not publicly.Not even privately.The Phoenix Gala had done exactly what she needed—it silenced the doubters, humiliated Kira, and drove investors crawling back with apologies and checks.But power, she knew now, wasn’t about applause.It was about dominance.And someone was still pulling strings in the shadows.Juliette.Her name was a curse every time it echoed in Zara’s mind.A ghost in stilettos. The woman who kidnapped Zara’s father. The woman who used to run with Alec before she turned her heels on everyone and vanished.And now?She was back in town.⸻“She never left,” Alec told her grimly, pacing the penthouse that night.They were alone, or as alone as two people in a bulletproof Manhattan fortress could be.“She’s been living under aliases. Private estates. Offshore accounts.”Zara folded her arms. “And she’s still obsessed with you.”He didn’t flinch.“She’s not after love. She’s after control. She always was.”Zara’s lips tightened. “She has my fath

The room was dark, but warm.Alec had shut down the entire floor. No staff, no security—just her, a private nurse, and his watchful shadow lingering at the door like he was afraid she’d vanish again.Zara blinked slowly as the soft hum of machines faded into her mind. Her fingers twitched beneath the silk sheets. Then her throat tightened. It was dry, sore, raw.A soft sound escaped her lips.Alec was there in seconds.His hand was trembling as it reached for her cheek, brushing back a lock of hair stuck to her skin. His thumb hovered like it wanted to touch, wanted to press her back to life—but didn’t dare.“You scared me,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “You scared the hell out of me, Zara.”She licked her lips. “What happened?”He sat on the bed, folding her hand into his without hesitation now.“You collapsed. Dehydration, exhaustion. Stress. Everything. Your body just—gave out.”“I—” she tried to sit up. Pain laced through her side and chest. She hissed.“Don’t. Just—stay still,” Al