Beneath The Mask Book Novels & Stories

he responded before turning to the lady beside him, “your mum called me, she said to keep you company. You have a lot on your mind, huh?” Rebecca was speechless for a while, how close was she to this couple? Why did both of them have her mother’s number? “Becca always does this” Melisa chipped in, “you always recoil into your shell when things don’t go your way, why do you always do that?” “What do you mean?” Becca asked, “recoil into my shell?” “Your mum said you have been acting weird since this morning” Hardin disclosed, “what exactly is the problem?”

In the next instant, the suite's electronic lock clicked open. I could not help but smirk, a sly grin spreading across my face.

He smiles and replies, “Just call me Greg, and please do keep it a secret. ” He nods and says to him, “I understand, it seems you are a secret yourself. Why all the secrecy? You have not committed any crimes have you?” He doesn’t speak rather he nods and walks towards the room, this time, he doesn’t stop him. After the long sentences, he allows him to enter the room, he walks toward her slowly and he looks down at the sleeping beauty. He is about to remove his mask but he sees her stir in her sleep so he stops and walks closer to her. She opens her eyes and stares right at him, he looks down at her and says to her,

"But even the strongest fortress has its vulnerabilities." Then, he did the unthinkable. He reached out. I felt his calloused fingers trace the delicate carvings of my mask—the bridge of the wolf’s nose, the curve of the jaw. My breath hitched, a tiny, traitorous sound escaping my lips. I should have struck him down. I should have used my father’s deadly gaze to end his heartbeat right there. But I stayed still. I let him touch the ivory that separated us. "You hide behind this mask," he said, his voice dropping to a seductive register, "but I believe there is a woman of immense beauty and passion beneath it. A woman who is worthy of being loved... worthy of being known."

I turned my head slowly to the direction of the voice, my heart beating so loudly I swore everyone could hear it. And then he stepped forward. A man. No. Not just a man. A beast of a man. He was huge, broad shoulders, long legs, and an aura so powerful that even the most arrogant nobles seemed to shrink under it. But the weirdest part of him was the mask he was wearing. A heavy thing that covered most of his face, hiding it completely. His clothes were expensive, his posture was confident, but there was something strange about him. Something dangerous. Also, the way he smelled.

The mask stretched into a smile, making it look even more grotesque than before. "The Catalyst would live as long as you do," the mask said. Miguel suddenly dropped the box. "Boss," he said, pointing at the mask. I turned to look at it. The mask was spewing a black inky substance, and immediately it entered my mouth. I fell as I struggled to breathe. I clawed at my throat as I felt I was being drowned by the strange substance.

Its face was covered by a featureless white mask. No eyes. No mouth. Only one sentence written across the mask in black ink. STORY DENIED. The room fell completely silent. The masked figure slowly raised one hand. Every blank page inside the First Study ignited with pale blue fire. The White Book screamed. Not with words. With every forgotten story it had ever protected. The masked figure finally spoke. Its voice sounded like a library closing forever. "Return the Final Reader..." "...or every unwritten world will be erased." The boy quietly stepped in front of Adrian.

I groan inwardly and decide to just leave. Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to get out of his room. He sits on the couch in front of me. He looks normal, but not too normal—just a barefoot man in his black shirt, gray sweatpants, and a mask. Does he possibly have a scar on his face too? Is that why he keeps on wearing a mask? “Here.” He hands me gold cards with the logo of Grethe and Elga Enterprises on it. “Thank you.” I look up and smile. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“That’s kind of the point of tonight, isn’t it?” Before I could move, he spoke. “Why do you wear the mask?” My hand lifted on instinct to the said mask, brushing its edge. “What?” He leaned back slightly, eyes locked on me. He knew I’d heard him. I let out a laugh that sounded so fake the second it left my mouth. “I mean, who doesn’t love a bit of mystery?” I shrugged trying to sell it. “Isn’t that the appeal?” He didn’t answer. Just hummed. Quiet. Dangerous. Probably filing my answer somewhere I couldn’t reach.

“You’re here to cook, not to play detective.” But deep down, that little voice one that always got me in trouble — whispered Yeah, but don’t you want to know? Why does Domenico wear shades in the house? Why does Alessandro act like everyone is a threat? Why does this mansion feel like a golden cage? And why, oh why, does my bank account now have five figures sitting in it after just one day? I sighed again, pushing up to my feet. Lunch was done. Counters were clean.