Billionaire's Masquerade Mga Nobela at Kwento

Amber thought her heart would explode from beating so fast. She was wearing a pink off-shoulder dress and stillettos which she have never worn before. Her hair was in a messy bun and she was wearing a heavy make up that made her look like a completely different person. "You're new here?" a red hair woman just her age asked Amber. Amber nodded her head. "Y-Yeah..." "That's why. Don't worry. After this, we're millionaires. The only bad side is, if our bidder likes us, they will surely make us their sex slaves. That is why you should pray your bidder wouldn't like your service."

Guards towers dotted the perimeter of the wide expanse of the compound, the whole place was as tight as a fucking prison cell, Reena thought. Tying the glittery diamond studded mask around her face, Reena prowled the ballroom. The ball was in full swing now, and the whispers of men and women belonging to the highest part of society washed through the huge ballroom like the smooth feeling of expensive wine. Despite the sweet taste of romance and hints of lusts in the air as expensively dressed men and women glided through the floor and the perfectly placed lights touching their skin with erotic hands, Reena could still see with her trained eyes the cloud of budding danger in the air, and she

She pointed out holding out a big black mask. "Is it a masquerade?" She asked with one brow lifted up. "Well, I guess." I threw the arm length gloves at her and she caught them, "Do you know what happens in those parties?" She placed them down and stared right into my eyeball. "What?" "Orgies. Those rich fellas have sex all around the floor with rich wives and they cuckold each other in there. The president is holding the billionaire's wife and the wife is holding the bachelor. It's a mess." She explained throwing her hands around. I placed the silky dress back in the box and looked at her with thinned eyes,

I head in, careful not to wrinkle to beautiful dress in my hands. And with the curtain falling to a close behind me and I start to peel off my shirt, mindful not to press onto my wound. The bleeding has stopped but I am not taking any chances with it. I do not think I can afford to pay for the dress if I stain it. I smell cigarettes from beyond the curtain. Elena is smoking. “The masquerade party,” she begins with a drawl and my ears perk up, intent on catching every word that comes out of her mouth, “is not merely a party. It is a façade for the rich and powerful to mingle, to strike business deals and to carve out alliances.”

With the absurd masks covering their faces, no one could be identified in the dimly lit room. It was a party for the first class and like generally they were undeniably dressed to the nine, dull suits, glossy dresses joined by extravagant gems. Despite the fact that Janet had dabbled in this world for years, she was accustomed to the setting and sneered under her breath. The world of billionaires still upended her beyond words. She could never really understand them or their activities. It was self-important individuals who had practical experience in making life unendurable for individuals they saw as being underneath them.

“In case this works, we’ ll need real numbers to back it up just long enough to sell the story. I’ ve prepped everything.” Amy didn ’t respond right away. Her jaw clenched as she glanced down at the financial mock - ups . “I can’t believe it’s come to this. We’ re staging fake deals to trap my ex -husband.” Bruce gave a humorless chuckle . “Welcome to legacy warfare.” She gave a half-smile, but her heart was beating like she’d run a marathon . This wasn ’t about pride anymore . It was about reclaiming what had been stolen, piece by piece.

Tonight, I was Nyx, and Nyx didn't hide. The bass from the main floor vibrated through the walls as I waited, counting my heartbeats. One client. Three songs. Maybe four hundred dollars if he was generous, another small dent in a mountain of debt so massive I'd need a thousand nights like this to even see the top. Fifteen million dollars didn’t care about dignity. The door opened. My practiced smile was already in place, sultry and inviting, as I looked up, my heart just stopped. Nicholas Bodeen stood in the doorway.

I stood in the midst of all the people dancing to the music that could be heard all the way to the end of the island. A glass of champagne was clutched in one hand and still full, I hadn't had a sip. My eyes were fixed on the object that was the reason I was on this island. David Alexander Thomas, the man rumoured to have an illegal business with blood on his hands. His name was always in my head when I received this business. He stood at the centre of the conversation, surrounded by several women with fake smiles.

The countdown began, and everyone glanced at Zane. "Eight hundred million," Zane replied calmly. I could see William burning with rage, knowing that paying that much would put him in debt. "Eight hundred million, going?" the hostess called out, and as the countdown reached zero, confetti burst through the room. "Congratulations, Mr. Hills." Zane glanced at me, but I ignored him, staring at the wine bottle on display. I got up to finalize the deal. "You should have handled that earlier," Zane said as I returned, eyeing me with mild annoyance. From the corner of my eye, I caught him watching me, as if waiting for me to say something, though I held back and turned my attention to the stage, whe

"Because it's true duh. I never lie to you." "You know you're really annoying." May said jokingly. "You're lucky you're my little brother. If you weren't, I might actually punch you." Mason laughed. "You love me, you know you do. So are you going to accept the invitation?" May thought for a moment. "I mean... It could be nice to meet up with someone who's actually interested in talking to me for once. So yeah, I'll go." "That's the spirit." Mason said triumphantly. "I promise you that this guy is not a serial killer or a kidnapper. He's just your ordinary, nothing suspicious billionaire."