روايات وقصص ضمن Hollow Mask Bleach Anime

How will you feel when you end up with the same person you were trying to find an escape from? How will you feel when you end up in a one-night stand with your Ex-husband? Her eyes fluttered as she felt the morning cool breeze brushing against her bare body, which was semi-covered with a quilt. Although her eyes felt heavy to even blink, her other senses were high alert. She could hear the bird chirping outside the windows, she could smell a familiar masculine cologne, her body covered with goosebumps with the presence of someone familiar, and her heart beats rapidly on its own accord. That's when her brain registered her surroundings and could recollect her last passionate night with someone who would be her soon-to-be ex-husband. How? When? Why? She mentally slapped herself, but then she couldn't hide the contentment. She felt as if she was complete now. She couldn't stop but feel happy again. Why? Why does she feel like falling in love again? "I see you are still the w***e you were back then," his words broke her little dream she just thought of. "A desperate woman like you, who can with her ex-husband, can no wonder w***e around any men." He said with no remorse. "I did the right thing by divorcing you. How much do you charge for a night?" he smirked, looking at her teary face. "Here! Take extra 200 bucks for the sake of our old times." She vowed never to cry in front of her husband, but what he said just now shattered her soul beyond repair. Her quivering body and hollow eyes didn't hide the agony she felt at that very moment. "Sorry for loving you."

The classified project I was working on wrapped up ahead of schedule, so I made sure to get back on my daughter's birthday. When I walked in, a girl I had never seen before was wearing my daughter's princess dress, a crown perched on her head. She sat in front of a cake as tall as she was, eyes closed, making a wish. I frowned and stepped closer. "Who are you? Why are you wearing my daughter's dress? Where's Heidi?" Before she could answer, two housemaids rushed out and started yelling at me. "Where the hell did you come from? How dare you talk to our boss's daughter like that? If you know what's good for you, get out! When the boss gets back, you won't like what happens." I stood there, confused. Boss? The boss's daughter? In this house, wasn't it just me and my daughter, Heidi Foster? I barely had time to speak before they shoved me toward the front door. In the middle of the pushing, something caught my eye. Off to the side, chained to a pillar, was Heidi. The girl I used to hold like she was the most precious thing in the world was now sprawled on the ground, digging through a dog bowl for food. A thick iron chain was locked around her neck, and her body was covered in bruises. My vision tightened. "Heidi, what happened to you?" The moment our eyes met, her hollow gaze filled with tears. She shrank back, then let out a soft bark at me, like a frightened dog. The maids looked at her with open disgust. One of them sneered, "Our boss said that that little thing was born to live like a dog. You have to keep her chained up if you want her to behave."

They called her "mad." The woman who once ruled Zhou's halls with laughter and grace now sat hollow in a white cell. Rose Sallow had lost everything. Her inheritance. Her child... her little boy, whose last breath faded against her trembling arms after the poison took hold. Her husband, Duke Sallow, once sworn to never leave her, now stood beside another. Lisa Zhou. Her cousin. Her sister in all but blood Now the new "Madam Sallow." She was carrying Duke’s child, the 'heir' he publicly acknowledged as his first child, and Rose's son’s name was erased from the family records. In the mental hospital room, she laughed when they handed her the divorce papers. That night, Rose decided to end it all. But fate, cruel, capricious fate, had other plans. When her eyes fluttered open, she didn’t find herself among the angels. She was staring at her reflection in a golden mirror, and on the bed behind her was her wedding gown. It was her wedding day. A chance to change it all. To rewrite fate. But as she rose from the bed, a shiver crawled down her spine. There, on the vanity, a note written in red... "Congrats... You have been granted a second chance." Then came the knock. Three slow, deliberate taps on the door. She froze. “Lady Rose?” a deep voice called. It wasn’t Duke’s voice. Softer, steadier, yet commanding. “Forgive the intrusion, but… I couldn’t wait any longer.” She opened the door. Standing there was a man she had never seen before. He bowed slightly, eyes dark as midnight. “Marry me,” he said simply. In her first life, this had never happened. No mysterious man. No interruption. No warning. Why now?

After the young officer Edward Shaw took first place in a high-profile shooting exhibition attended by senior officials, his family adopted a rather peculiar tradition. At the annual family banquet, he would perform a blindfolded shooting. Whichever woman's token his bullet struck was taken as a sign that she would become his fiancée. Determined to marry him, I placed the handkerchief I had carefully chosen as close to him as possible. Yet, for three consecutive years, his shots hit nothing at all. I told myself the handkerchief must have been too light, too easy to miss. So each year, I replaced it with something more refined, more eye-catching than before. That illusion lasted until the night before my eighteenth birthday, when I happened to overhear him speaking with a friend at a reception. "Miss Jasmine's handkerchief is right in front. Even blindfolded, you should be able to hit it. How do you keep missing every year?" Edward swirled his glass, his tone casual. "Tracy's still young. The moment she hears I'm getting engaged, she starts crying. "I promised I'd wait until she's a little older. As for Jasmine, she's waited for me all these years. It's not like she's going anywhere." With that, he casually tossed his glass into a metal bucket in the corner. It rang out with a sharp, hollow clang. I lowered my gaze and thought of my younger sister, only a year younger than me. So it had never been about the token. It was about the person who placed it there. In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on. After all, my father had already arranged a marriage for me. Three days later, at that same family banquet, I would be formally engaged.

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.

"You want to be free of me so badly you'll throw yourself into danger?" he asked. "I have nothing left to lose, Eddie. They already took my friends and my freedom. You keep me locked aside, and I have to watch you sleeping around even in our house. What does freedom cost when the price of staying is my soul?" "I will never divorce you, Maggie," he stated, his voice final. "You are mine, and this marriage ends when I say it ends. And not because of some childish, self-destructive tantrum." Maggie Grayson built her global empire on cold calculation and a profound need for independence. But her arranged marriage to the powerful CEO Eddie Grayson is not a union-it's a high-stakes, public prison. When Maggie's emotionally abusive family publicly humiliates her, Eddie does nothing, revealing the true nature of their toxic bond. Seeking a way out, Maggie throws herself into a scandal, only to discover Eddie isn't merely possessive; he's actively leveraging her trauma and her successful company to build a corporate dynasty that will guarantee her absolute, permanent captivity. Now, caught between a husband determined to be her "sculptor" and a father willing to destroy her company to regain control, Maggie knows the only way to break free is to turn the cold, ruthless mask she wears into a devastating weapon. She's not just fighting for a divorce; she's fighting for her very soul. To survive, Maggie must dismantle her gilded cage brick by brick, even if it means destroying the man who holds the key.

Betrayed by the two people she loved most, her fiancé and her stepsister, Ella loses everything. Desperate and broken, she chooses death. But fate has other plans. Rescued against her will, Ella wakes up to a nightmare: her greedy foster parents have forced her into marriage with a crippled, disfigured man, Elion Copper. A man the world believes to be poor and unwanted. But Elion is no ordinary man. He is, in truth, the ruthless billionaire bachelor every woman in town secretly desires. Tired of fake love and gold-diggers, Elion hides behind a mask of scars and poverty to test if any woman can love him without his wealth. He is certain no one will ever agree, until Ella. To Elion, Ella’s acceptance feels like mockery. He believes she chose him willingly, and his pride turns into fury. Out of spite, he decides to "sell" her as a servant in his billionaire identity, without revealing that both men are one and the same. Now, Ella finds herself under the mercy of the cold and arrogant real Elion Copper, a man who humiliates her, torments her, and makes her question why life saved her at all. But the deeper the pain, the deeper the truth, the crippled husband, and the cruel master are one. When Ella finally discovers his secret, her world shatters again. Will she forgive the man who broke her beyond repair, or will she walk away even when he is ready to burn the world just to keep her by his side?

They thought he was just another runaway. They never knew she was a storm waiting to rise. After the tragic death of her parents, Alex a girl mistaken for a boy all her life was one step away from being dumped into a foster home. But instead of surrendering to the system, she ran. That night on the streets, she didn’t find safety. She found the mafia. Dragged into the brutal underground world of Vegas, Alex was forced to train like a soldier, live like a ghost, and survive like a killer. No one ever questioned her identity not when she could fight better, bleed harder, and keep her mouth shut longer than anyone else. They called her a boy. She didn’t correct them. Not when being seen as male was the only thing keeping her alive. Sent to Base Two, the deadliest tier of training, Alex learned to fight, spy, kill and to hide her real self behind layers of silence, steel, and scars. Years later, she walks the streets of New York, not as the scared runaway girl from the past, but as The Rival. A faceless vigilante by night. A silent infiltrator by day. And a weapon forged for one purpose: revenge. Alex isn’t just hunting criminals. She’s chasing the truth behind her father’s deathand every masked figure connected to it. But the deeper she digs, the more twisted the game becomes. Hidden enemies, familiar faces, and a web of betrayal that leads right back to the organization that made her. How long can she keep the mask on... before her real identity shatters everything?

Charles’ breath quickened, and his movements became more urgent. “I’m close,” he gasped in my ear, his voice breaking between moans. My own pleasure surged, and I couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from my throat. A wave of electric tingles swept through me, my temples throbbed, and the world around me faded into white… Every pore on my body felt wide open, heat radiating from me in waves. It was surreal, as if I were in a dream, feeling everything but grasping none of it… I could hardly believe it—I had married this man, the infamous Alpha of the Black Valley Pack, Charles McLean, and I had just slept with him. But there was no love between us. We weren’t fated mates. Since his first shift at eighteen, Charles McLean had never found his fated mate. And after one engagement after another, each of his fiancées had died under mysterious circumstances. Rumor had it that he wore a mask to conceal his hideous face and that he was a cruel, violent man who would kill without hesitation. People whispered that he had murdered his previous fiancées. His last fiancée—my sister—was terrified of him. Horrified by the stories, she had vehemently refused to marry him. And just before the wedding, she found her fated mate. So, without warning or preparation, I was forced to take her place, pushed into marrying Charles in her stead, to stand as his wife in name only and the unacknowledged Luna of the Black Valley Pack…

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.