Hopeless Masquerade Novels & Stories

Her heels already ached. Everyone in the room shimmered. The women wore diamonds like skin. The men—every one of them tall, clean-jawed, dangerous—wore masks that looked like power in velvet form. And she had never felt more alone in her life. She’d only come because one of her student’s parents had insisted, said it would be “good exposure,” and “for a good cause.” A charity masquerade hosted by Volkov Industries. The champagne was free. The judgment was not.

“I know. I promise the guy Yankees tickets. I told him to put the out of order sign for five minutes.” “Why did you do that?” I blinked in surprise. “I think I said something that upset you, and I’m sorry.” He held his mask, about to unveil his identity.” “Don’t.” I shook my head repeatedly. “I don’t wanna know who you are.” “But I want to know you.” I laughed in silence, my body shaking. “Wow. You’re unbelievable.” “What do you mean by that?” Through his eyes, he looked awfully hurt. “Boy and girl from different worlds meet in a masquerade ball, fall in love, families tear them apart, and it ended tragically.” I snapped my fingers. “Ring a bell?”

Chapter Three – Masquerade Mastery The ballroom transformed into a realm of shadows and silk as the early morning hours approached, the chandeliers dimming, their light a soft halo over the crimson velvet alcove where we lay entwined. My body was a map of their desire—bruises on my hips and thighs, bite marks on my breasts, cum and sweat coating my skin—yet the hunger within me burned, a primal need fueled by the Masquerade’s unrelenting passion. The five women loomed over me, their masks still in place, breaths heavy, pussies glistening with arousal, eyes locked on mine with a fierce mastery, ready to culminate the night in a final act of dominance. The air thrummed with the energy of our s

It makes my jaw tighten. Grant’s Hall comes into view in my mind before it does in reality. Grant’s Hall. Grant’s Slaughterhouse. That’s what the men call it when they think no one’s listening. A masquerade for monsters. Silk masks, tailored suits, and enough blood history soaked into those marble floors to drown a city. Alliances are formed there. Empires rot there. People disappear there. And I’m only going back because of Tobias’ fucking secret. My fingers curl slowly against my thigh.

A spark runs through me, tingling where I shouldn’t still feel him. I shake it off like a guilty pleasure. Sighing, I reach for something safer. A black dress. It’s long, simple, not revealing and definitely do not scream for attention. But it’s body-hugging and I wonder if I’m ready for that kind of closeness… with myself. Still, it will have to do. Anya will outshine me, anyway. She always does and honestly, I’ve made peace with being the dim light in her galaxy. It’s already seven and the invitation Mama left says eight-thirty. So, I have enough time. Apparently, it’s a masquerade event. How fitting for me. Rich people wearing masks to fundraise a system that’s already broken.

well, they'd find a way to make my life miserable until I either conformed or disappeared. So I've spent the last twelve years of my life pretending to be interested in the various alpha males my parents paraded in front of me, making excuses about why none of them were quite right, buying myself time while hoping desperately that things might change. They haven't. "What do you think?" my father asks, studying my face for any sign of rebellion. "Are you willing to take on this project? Help rehabilitate Thomas Hillson's wayward son?" I almost laugh at the irony. A gay man and a lesbian woman, both trapped by their families' expectations, about to enter into the most hollow marriage imaginabl

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

Elowen POV. The leather sofa in VIP Room Three still held the warmth of the last client. I could feel it through the thin crimson silk barely covering my body as I adjusted my position, making sure every angle was perfect. The jeweled mask sat secure against my face, catching the low amber light, hiding everything that mattered while showing everything that didn't. My red hair fell in waves over my bare shoulders. No brown wig or oversized cardigan swallowing my curves tonight. Tonight, I was Nyx, and Nyx didn't hide.

Ruby's gaze was glued to the screen, her body shaking as if she had seen a ghost. "You don't have to sign," I said, my voice a chilling whisper. "But if you don't, this unedited, crystal-clear video will be tomorrow's sensation, plastered over every news site. I'll even send a copy to your parents, all your relatives, friends, and colleagues. "Think you'll see a dime of that settlement then? Think you'll have the dignity to walk this earth?"

he repeated. “E The crack was in the doorframe. “Your masked friend.” Although he himself did "not bat an eyelid My throat actually constricted. "You saw him?" "Oh yes.” His voice fell to icy. "And he saw you. It ceased thudding. Silence. "Now tell me," he continued, his eyes drilling into me. "What's happening at Sotheby's?" templateUrl fraudulent fraudulent fraud Ezra once cocked "Bathroom," he whispered. "It's the safest place. Go."