When Was Heath Ledger'S Joker Costume First Revealed?

3.5 Stories in one. She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith—the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room—Manhattan's most exclusive masked club—she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."

My best friend loved playing 'jokes.' On my birthday, she projected my worst photos in front of everyone, saying she just wanted to 'liven up the mood.' When I was on my period, she deliberately gave me a defective pad. Even when she saw the stain on my clothes, she said nothing–claiming she was helping me 'get more attention.' After I started dating, she edited my photos into suggestive images and spread them across social media groups, pricing them like a product. When I finally snapped and confronted her, she just laughed. "I'm just helping you test your boyfriend," she said. "If he doubts you, then he doesn't really love you. How can you blame me?" Later, a man used the information from those posts to track me down and harm me. I did not survive what followed. However, when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she first shared those images.

At the wedding, I recognized at a glance that the masked man standing before me was an impostor for Howard Larson. Despite this, I went through with the ceremony as though nothing were amiss. In my previous life, I exposed the fake groom in front of everyone. Left with no choice, Howard reluctantly returned and completed the wedding with me. That very night, his childhood sweetheart, Joyce Charlton, swallowed sleeping pills and jumped from a building, taking her own life. When Howard heard the news, he showed no hint of sadness. Instead, he cursed her, saying she deserved to die. After the wedding, Howard and I seemed as loving as ever. I even used my family's money to pull his company back from the brink of collapse. However, on our first wedding anniversary, he personally bound me to a helicopter while I was pregnant. There was no warmth left in his eyes. "If you hadn't forced me to come back and marry you that day, Joyce would still be alive. "Why should you get to live so happily? I want you to feel the pain she felt when she died." He shoved me from the sky. I was utterly destroyed. This time, I pretended not to notice the deception and completed the wedding with the fake groom. I wanted to see for myself how, without the Smith family's support, he intended to save the already crumbling Larson Group.

I wheel myself into the birthday celebration that Wales Price has thrown for me. The atmosphere is originally lively, but a brief silence descends when everyone sees me. The guests are there for different purposes, but celebrating my birthday is not one of them. "Is that Mr. Price's crippled fiancée, Joey Hertza?" "Yeah, but the one he really loves is Anna Giovanni. I saw them kissing in a corner earlier." They use their wine glasses to block their mouths as they speak loudly. They think I'm still the crippled deaf I used to be. They don't know that I regained my hearing last week. I can hear every mocking comment they make. Meanwhile, Wales stands there and allows it to happen. He doesn't stop the guests from talking about me. He seems to have forgotten that I only ended up like this while protecting him. I shoved him away when the accident happened and got trapped underneath the car myself. When I was rescued, Wales swore to stay with me and care for me for life. It's only been three short years since then, but he's already changed. I receive a message on my phone. "Ms. Hertza, the lifelike corpse that you've ordered is now complete. Reply to this message with your confirmation, and your death-faking service will be immediately effective. We will send the corpse to your and Mr. Price's wedding in five days." I don't even hesitate as I reply with my confirmation. Enjoy your wedding, Wales.

On April Fools' Day, Ethan Reid builds me a crystal coffin, Liam Reid custom-designs a burial dress, and Julian Reid fills the bottom of the coffin with imported flowers. To satisfy their adopted sister, Alexandra Martin, who wants to pull an April Fools' prank, they tell me to spend the night in the coffin. "If you can handle spending the night in there and actually take a joke, we'll officially acknowledge you as part of the family," they say. I'm so desperate to belong that I put on the dress and climb in without hesitation. However, the second the lid locks, I realize there's no air coming in. As the oxygen runs out, I panic and start frantically pounding against the glass, screaming for help. On the other side of the lid, Alexandra goes live, laughing as she points her phone at me. "Look, everyone. She's such a great actress. She's holding her breath until her face is literally turning purple. Talk about staying in character!" Ethan looks down at me with disdain. "Cassie, knock it off! You just got in there, and you're already throwing a fit. Stop embarrassing us." The suffocation intensifies. My lungs feel like they're about to burst, and I can't even form the words to beg for help anymore. However, Liam merely sneers at me. "You're certainly going above and beyond for some attention." Julian leans in close to the glass, clapping and laughing. "This is hilarious. You're a total drama queen!" Then, I hear Ethan talking to the camera. "She does this every single time. She's a total buzzkill who loves playing the victim just because she can't stand seeing Alexandra happy. She always has to ruin everything." I stare at them through the glass in despair. I'm not faking it. I'm actually dying!

Victim to an age old belief pertaining to Friday the 13th, Kara finds herself kidnapped and dumped in a remote mansion. A blind walk through its long corridors leads her to someone; a powerful and devastatingly handsome man who looks like an angel come alive and has been plaguing her dreams ceaselessly. Kara is convinced their meeting is a coincidence, one never to happen again. Carlisle has finally met his bride and is too jaded to believe in coincidences.