Glorious Masquerade Mga Nobela at Kwento

The journey to the neutral lands—lush forest territory claimed by no pack—was filled with stiff silence, fake smiles, and the uncomfortable tension of trying not to breathe too loud next to people who’d rather claw your throat out than say good evening. By the time we arrived at the grand hall nestled between thick woods and silver-lit lakes, my face ached from fake smiling. The masquerade was beautiful, no doubt. Golden lanterns floated in the air, enchanted to twirl like stars. The scent of roasted meat and spices wafted through the chilled night air. Music pulsed softly from a string quartet enchanted to never miss a note. I should’ve felt enchanted. Instead, I felt suffocated. Too many p

*********** The masquerade ball is exquisitely splendid with vivacious decorations, imported flowers, expensive clothing and furniture that the invited guests were awestruck by the crystal chandeliers which were hung to the ceiling of the banquet hall. The spacious lavish dance floor is painted with spectacular patterns which drew gasps from the crowd, their expressions hidden behind their beautiful masks. When Lucas Roselli stepped into the hall with his girlfriend and sister, their hands securely wrapped around his forearms on either side, they were greeted by the people who are engaged in refreshing conversations. Some are dancing in joy, irrespective of their identities while few stuck t

And I know it. The De Lucas parade their son’s engagement like a trophy, their arrogance spreading like wildfire. If there’s a corner of the earth untouched by their boasting, I’d be shocked. And the lovely Serena Castelli, the radiant bride-to-be? She has no idea of the monster she’s promised herself to. Not a clue.

They stepped forward together, crossing the threshold into the grand hall. The atmosphere shifted immediately. The party was a vision of dark elegance, a masquerade drenched in gothic splendor. Gilded chandeliers of iron and crystal loomed overhead, their long taper candles casting wavering shadows against the towering black walls. Every guest was adorned in extravagant attire, their faces concealed behind masks that ranged from eerily beautiful to unsettlingly grotesque.

"Isn't this all because of you? If you hadn't helped her back then, would Brianna have ever scored that well in math?" I dug my left hand into my thigh, hard, forcing myself not to tremble. The others smiled and echoed her, as if they'd all suddenly forgotten what they had done to me in high school. During lunch, it was like they were following a script, casually showing off how well their lives had turned out. Finneas took a call and loudly mentioned a deal worth millions of dollars. Melissa showed off a diamond ring that was clearly several carats large. Vexana Jones made sure everyone noticed the luxury watch on her wrist.

Alexander got out first, adjusting his cufflinks like he owned the place. Then he turned to me. And offered his hand. I hesitated for a fraction of a second before placing my fingers in his. His grip was firm, steady, as he helped me out of the car. The moment I stepped into the light, I felt it. Every eye turned to us. ............................................................................................. The masquerade was a spectacle of wealth and power. Inside the grand ballroom, the ceilings were draped in dark silks, golden chandeliers casting a warm, flickering glow. A string quartet played hauntingly beautiful music, setting the mood of mystery and seduction.

Below us, a sea of silk, velvet, and diamonds swirl to the sound of a live orchestra. It’s a masquerade ball for the city’s elite. A playground for billionaires, politicians, and the predators who feed on them. Dominik’s hand rests on the small of my back. It’s not a casual touch. His fingers are spread wide, the heat of his palm burning through the black silk of my gown. "You look dangerous tonight," he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear it over the swelling strings of a violin. "I thought that was the point," I reply, leaning back slightly into his touch. "The invitation said Midnight Glamour, but we both know it means Come and show off your teeth."

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.”

The streets they walked seemed to come alive with vibrant colors as if nature. Curiosity getting the better of her, Dianne asked, "What kind of celebration are you planning, Nicolas?" Nicolas flashed a mischievous smile. "Oh, it's going to be a grand affair, Dianne. We're throwing a masquerade ball!" Dianne's heart skipped a beat. A masquerade ball! The very thought sent her imagination soaring. She envisioned herself in an elegant gown, adorned with feathers and sequins, dancing the night away with mysterious strangers. The air would be filled with laughter and enchantment, creating an atmosphere fit for a fairytale.