All Chapters of Behind The Mask : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Zara's POV For nights, the hidden camera showed nothing but John. His silhouette lingered on the bed and his activities.Until one night. John first walked in, and there he was, Cassian, walking in with the quiet arrogance of a man who owned the air itself. He carried the humidifier.“I see you’ve got something new,” he said, his tone sharp, almost mocking, as he observed the humidifier.My breath hitched. For a second, I thought he might notice that he might sense the lens watching, but instead, Cassian dropped it, turning the camera away. Behind him, John shifted quickly, adjusting the humidifier, not knowing what it contained.“How long will this continue?” John’s voice cut through the silence. He wasn’t asking about the machine. His tone was raw, almost begging.Cassian straightened, his expression unreadable. “I don’t understand.”“I mean… hiding me,” John pressed, his voice cracking with a hunger that wasn’t just for touch but for recognition.Cassian’s jaw ticked. “I give you

Zara's POV That night, while Sterling and I were on a call, he finally brought up Lena. He told me everything that happened. I listened to him quietly.Then he sighed. “What would make Lena confess? That girl can hold a façade longer than anyone I’ve ever met.”I leaned back against the pillows, biting my lip to hide the smile tugging at me. If only he knew what really pushed her hand.“I guess we’ll never know,” I said softly.It had been weeks since Vanderlyn’s passing. Mr. Everhart drove me out to the furniture company, and the sheer size of it caught me off guard. Glass towers, sprawling warehouses, polished showrooms, it was a legacy carved in oak and steel.Everything had been transferred into Mr. Everhart’s hands, but instead of clinging to it, he handed the power to me. A manager was hired to run the day-to-day, yet all reports will come directly to me as the President. The title felt heavy and dazzling all at once.And then there was the vineyard in Europe. Another empire, a

Zara's POV The flashbacks didn’t stop. For days they came in waves, relentless and vivid, pulling me deeper into the life Aria once lived with Cassian.I saw how it began, the charm that slowly bled into ice. How, after their engagement, Cassian’s warmth cooled into indifference. They had been engaged for months before the announcement went public, and even then, she held on, believing the coldness was temporary. Believing marriage would transform him.But on their honeymoon, the illusion shattered. He was still distant, untouched by her devotion. Aria carried the weight of everything, planning, caring, trying, while he remained detached, a ghost beside her. And yet, she gave and gave, going the extra mile for a man who never met her halfway.Despite the endless reel of memories, I felt no splitting headaches anymore, Nana’s herbal tea worked like a charm. But there was always the trade-off, I woke drenched in blood from my nose, and I'm mostly sleepy by evenings.One morning, I woke

Zara's POV When I got in, the manager blinked at me. “Back so soon, Mrs. Everhart?” he asked, surprised.I smiled politely. “I just need to pick something.”I got to Aria’s vault. My hands trembled slightly as the heavy door slid open with a hiss. I reached for the journal.I slipped it into my new bag, dialed Tessa, and asked her to send a driver immediately. By the time I finished the complimentary coffee the manager offered, the car was waiting outside.The drive back felt endless. My fingers itched to open the journal, but I waited until I was behind the locked door of my room. Cassian wasn’t home, not that I cared. It was a friday he's probably at work or getting ready to club later.I sat on the edge of the bed and flipped open the journal. At first, the entries were simple, almost juvenile, petty complaints, lists of things she hated, musings about people who had annoyed her. Nothing unusual, nothing worth hiding.“Then why keep this locked away?” I whispered to myself, flippi

Zara's POV I knew for sure it had something to do with what Mr. Everhart had hinted at, twice, about me joining them. The thought kept gnawing at me, that night no memories came.The next day was Sunday, the day of the gala. Cassian hadn’t returned home. I knew he was rotting in some hospital bed, and the absence felt like a gift.After a quiet breakfast, I picked up Aria’s journal again, flipping through pages I had skipped before. Some words were scribbled in such a hurried, almost frantic handwriting that I had to trace them slowly with my finger, sounding them out like a code. Some entries seemed like spells, half-legible ramblings that blurred the line between reality and madness.When my head began to ache, I tucked the journal back into the secret compartment beneath my bed alongside my burner phone. Cassian might crawl back eventually, and the last thing I needed was his fingers snooping into what wasn’t his.By afternoon, Tessa and Nico arrived, as usual bringing their laugh