Cinderella Masquerade Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Oh, I'm so excited to get you ready for the ball! You're going to look stunning!" I forced a smile, not sharing her enthusiasm. Jasmine continued, "I've never been to a ball in my life, it'd be a dream come true. I'll be Cinderella with a stunning yet dangerous mask on, and my prince charming will come searching for me after I leave. But I won't leave my glass heels behind – imagine leaving behind glass heels that cost forty grand? I don't care, I'm going back for those!" We burst out laughing at the absurdity. I was grateful for Jasmine's presence, I really needed a laugh. "I mean, just imagine that." She said. Our laughter trailed off.

This was the annual Masquerade Gala, the one night a year where the monsters of the corporate world wore masks that finally matched their souls. ​I stepped onto the polished marble floor, my heels clicking with a rhythm that felt far too much like a countdown. Click. Click. Click. Every step was taking me further away from my old life and deeper into the mouth of the beast. My dress, a deep midnight blue that shimmered like a bruised sky, felt like armor. It was backless, draped low to show off the skin I had spent years caring for, all to serve as a distraction. The lace mask over my eyes was tight, the delicate patterns pressing into my skin, reminding me that tonight, Elena Sterling did n

Indigo replied by scratching her head, "Frozen-Crescent, maybe." The happiness was applied on the pretty face of Nora vanished to hear the venue of the masquerade party and screamed in shock, "Frozen-Crescent!?! Why there... Oh… Not again... It’s fine... I will go there to protect my prince from the evil eye-sight of any other women" Indigo insisted Nora, “My lady… Maybe our prince wants to confess his love, so he arranged a grand masquerade party. Only for you, he is concerned about you, otherwise, why does he want to throw a party all of a sudden… Don’t miss this opportunity”

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.”

" When I asked, he smirked. He looked like someone who could kill her in the next second. TWO YEARS LATER I smiled as I slowly stepped out of the car; there were a slew of directors waiting for her, including the CEOs of small businesses who all wanted to collaborate with me. The powerful Miss Eleanor, the image I made for myself solely to exact revenge on him. Only a few people have seen my face, but all have felt my wealth. Only a few people will see my face before I exact my revenge. I was wearing a mask on my face and an umbrella over my head. At the time, I was the wealthiest person in town, and only a few people had seen my face.

She knew fighting idiot people would get her nowhere but here she is. Countess Tumaini grinned smugly. “Why? Isn’t it true? He always wears a mask to hide an ugly scar on his face. He’s a monster.” She continued. “You’re only engaged with him because you wanted to make the crown prince jealous. It’s a contract marriage right?”

"He likes to show off his feathers before he strikes. Let him show off. I have Marcus positioned in the server room, and Chloe is already inside. We play the part until the music stops." ​The moment we stepped onto the red carpet, the wall of camera flashes was blinding. The paparazzi screamed my name—or rather, they screamed the name the tabloids had given me: The Cinderella Hacker. Julian didn't rush. He led me up the grand marble staircase of the estate with a slow, agonizing deliberate pace. He wanted them to see every inch of us. He wanted them to see the gold gown I had stolen from Sarah Sterling’s grasp.

Elias, next to me, stood up straight and proud, like he was claiming his place. Noelle was shaking with anger as she looked at me. "Darcy, are you crazy! Do you know what you're doing?" Andrew rushed over too, whispering to me: "Darcy, don't be silly! Stop the wedding now!" I did not listen to them and passed the microphone to the person next to me. "Elias, tell everyone why you're here." Elias and I exchanged smiles, his voice calm and clear. "Today, I'm standing here because Howard gave me fifteen thousand dollars to pretend to be him at this wedding. "

“I just— I thought William’s wife was someone else. A woman named Elise. At the masquerade party—” “Oh, don’t be silly,” Jasmine said with a cheerful demeanor. “I used a fake French accent. It was a masquerade party, after all. The whole point was to be someone else. And after being blindsided and betrayed by my ex-husband? Well, I quite enjoyed the fantasy.” Martin’s jaw tightened. I could see the sweat beading along his forehead. His hands rubbed his thighs unconsciously. His eyes darted around the room, searching for something to ground him.

Jesus fucking Christ. Elena descended the staircase like sin learning how to walk. The crimson gown hugged every lethal curve, slit flashing miles of leg with each step. Her auburn hair was swept up in a sleek chignon, exposing the naked line of her back—skin glowing warm under crystal light, those two fragile straps the only thing keeping the dress from sliding to the floor. The masquerade mask dangled from her fingers, black lace and rubies waiting to claim her face. My lungs forgot their job. I adjusted the bow tie just to feel something other than the sudden rush of blood south.