Behind The Mask Phantom Of The Opera の小説・ストーリー

The sight reminded us of the one thing we had almost forgotten. “Mask,” I whispered to Ivy, and we both quickly reached into our clutches and put them on. My mask was silver, laced with tiny rhinestones that sparkled under the lights. The hall buzzed with excitement. The booming music, mixed with the vibrant lighting, made it impossible not to feel the rhythm in our bones. A live orchestra played on one side of the room, their instruments weaving together a melody that tugged at our feet, making them move on their own.

Diego took it as consent, crossing the room to draw open a curtain that revealed a one-way mirror. On the other side, strippers moved like living art—bodies twining around poles with practiced grace. “That’s Natasha,” Diego pointed out, nodding toward a dancer in a violet mask. Alexander rose from his seat, drink in hand, and stepped closer to the glass. His fingers traced the outline of the woman’s figure through the mirror. She swayed with hypnotic rhythm, every motion deliberate, as though she sensed unseen eyes on her.

It was elegant and terrifying. We approached a woman seated behind a sleek glass desk. Her face was expressionless. When she saw Mr. Everhart, she stood quickly and bowed, deeply, reverently, before sliding something across the counter: a mask. Without hesitation, Mr. Everhart took it. The mask was white porcelain, etched with subtle obsidian lines. He placed it over his face and pinned a silver tag to his lapel. The name engraved on it was, Alpha. He turned to me “You won’t be needing this yet,” he said quietly, though his eyes behind the mask were unreadable.

THE MASKED HEIRESS Location: Vienna | The Valkyrie Opera House — Two Days Later Snow fell in wet veils across the marble steps of the Valkyrie Opera House, melting into the crimson carpet rolled out for the elite. Inside, a masquerade gala masked a quiet war—silent alliances blooming behind jeweled masks, whispered threats drifting with the scent of aged champagne. Chaewon descended the grand staircase like she’d been born from marble—clad in black velvet and silver-threaded lace that kissed her curves like reverence. Her face was obscured by an obsidian mask, etched in the shape of a broken phoenix wing.

The blue-masked woman moved behind, her hands sliding up my back, unfastening my gown to let it fall, exposing my breasts to the cool air, her mouth descending to suck a nipple hard, teeth grazing the sensitive peak. “Oh god,” I whimpered, the combined assault overwhelming, and the gold-masked leader chuckled, stepping closer, her hands cupping my face, kissing me deeply, her tongue dominating mine. The silver-masked woman increased the vibrator’s speed, the hum intensifying, while the purple-masked woman added a third finger, thrusting deep into my wet cunt, stretching me further. The red-masked woman’s tongue delved deeper, her hands spreading my thighs wider, and I rocked against her face

The grand ballroom of the Moretti estate glittered with a thousand points of light, the golden chandeliers casting a warm glow over the swirling sea of masked faces. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, polished marble, and the faint undertone of whispered secrets. I stood at the edge of the room, feeling the weight of my black gown, sleek and elegant, hugging every curve I was glad to show off — but the mask, oh, the mask, was what kept my sharp gaze hidden. It was a delicate piece of black lace, embroidered with tiny beads that shimmered as I moved, covering half my face and making it impossible for anyone to read my thoughts.

From cheek to hip, every part of her brushed along his erection. She stopped in front of him as he growled at her, the shiny white mask covering half of his face reminded her of Phantom of the Opera. He was beyond breathtaking, sin that would snuff out any goodness that might spark inside of the woman he wanted. His eyes spoke of long nights, screams and moans, pleasure beyond anything she could conceive.

"My dearest nephew, how have you been? An excited voice said in the other line. That voice. It was so familiar, but that's impossible, he thought to himself. "Dr. Zen Yu, I hope you realized that using other people's voices to call me is considered rude. What you're doing is called phishing, you fool," He said to the caller, obviously pissed and ready to attack him. "AHAHAHAHAHA, you never change, do you, huh? Still angry at this person?" Dr. Zen Yu asked smugly and his voice filled with amusement

It is enough to cover almost half of my upper face. I’ve seen its type in the musical The Phantom of the Opera. It is the phantom mask. Gold in color. The designs are like vines swirling all over it. I wore it and it matched my dress. I smiled and leaned my back on the backrest comfortably. “This bar is both for nobles and ordinary citizens. I really love it since there’s no prejudice against hoppers.” I nodded my head. What she said was true. I really admire the one who built that bar. Inside was a world different to the one outside. There’s no boundaries nor prejudice. Everybody is free.