Julie Masks Novels & Stories

"Of your privileges. The soft mattress, the scented soaps, the luxury of choice. Do not test the boundaries of my patience today, Clara. Today is about the mask." Clara slid out of bed, her legs still feeling a slight tremor. She walked toward him, stopping just inches away. "What happens if the mask slips, Julian? Do you have a script for that too?" Julian’s eyes dropped to her bare chest, then back to her eyes. "If the mask slips, I will be the one to catch you. But the way I catch you will not be pleasant. Now, move."

Nosy bitch. “You look tired,” Janelle said to me after a moment. “Wow, thanks,” I deadpanned. “No, like...kinda pale. Hungover?” Before I could answer, Mia cut in. “She looks hot. Shut up, Jan.” I shot her a grateful look. Then Amaya clapped her hands. “Okay! Face masks. I brought the charcoal ones that smell like cucumbers.” “Bless you,” I groaned. “My skin is crying.”

It was also the most conservative among Julia’s clothes, which mostly featured sweetheart necklines. She took her time, applying only very light makeup. She was never comfortable with a fully made-up face, though it had become necessary in her line of work. After intentionally making Sake wait an hour, Jillian wondered if he was still awake—or how things were going with Valeria. Was her mom still behaving? Well, there was only one way to find out. She grabbed Julia’s purse, spritzed on her expensive perfume, and stepped out. They weren’t in the living room anymore—but she could hear laughter.

Hidden behind Masks, they allowed themselves to get lost in the glamor of it all, having left their humdrum behind. Each sister adjusted their mask, ready to immerse themselves in the biggest night Gala of the year. Jayla's emerald green gown shimmered with each movement of hers; her mask adorned with delicate gold filigree that seemed to tell stories of her own.Jade's midnight blue dress floated like silk as she moved; her dark mask matching her calm, sophisticated demeanor.Jasmine's blush pink gown was as light as air, her mask adorned with tiny pearls, making her look every bit of the fairy-tale queen she had always dreamed of being.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of expensive sandalwood and the sharp, electric charge of two people who had stripped away their names before they had even stripped away their clothes. Julian didn't move like a businessman in that moment; he moved like a man who had finally found the missing piece of a high-stakes puzzle. He back Elena against the floor-to-ceiling windows, the cold glass a stark contrast to the searing heat of his palms against her waistt. "The mask," he whispered, his voice a low, rough velvet against her ear. "It’s been driving me mad all night."

She would shatter his delusions completely and leave him with no reason to pursue her anymore! She would never return to that hell! Never! Marisol got up and walked to the walk-in closet, rummaging through the pile of clothes she'd scattered earlier to find a mask. It was one of the masks Emilia had sent over before the masquerade ball. She had told her to choose whichever she liked. "The ball's already over. What do you need that for?" Alinta followed. "Does it look good?" Marisol picked up a white cat half-mask, held it over the upper half of her face, and looked up at Alinta.

he said, firmly as his thoughts to expose the masquerade hiding in the mask of the honourable detective. Andre knew the silence inside of him wasn't good, he was seated in a borrowed—stolen—car, with a lady he couldn't understand. She was a combination of fierce and beautiful. Toxic—he always thought such combination was toxic and his nerves screamed but he couldn't help but smile at her sleeping body beside him. His daughter? What part of the conversation that he did not get. His daughter. He glanced at her again. There was no resemblance of him in her. How could a child of a monster be so fine? He struggled to keep his head arranged, struggled to keep his mind from the kiss. Shit Dre, Shit

Trusting anyone is risky—there could be a spy from my uncle or Alpha Tristan. Julie goes to the wardrobe, saying, "Your closet has been stocked with clothes for any occasion.” I'm not interested in anything related to Kessler, so I just wave my hand dismissively. Julie picks out my outfits for the day and lays them on the bed. She ends up choosing a flowing blue flower gown. She insists on styling my hair, and she does a good job of creating some curls that fall onto my shoulders. I add a bit of makeup, using powder, lip gloss, and mascara to enhance my eyelashes.

Edward sighed as he accepted the fact that he had to explain his identity when Andrea burst out in tears. "My head hurts so much and I feel so cold. Everyone hates me…" Andrea cried as she held her head. Edward used this time to wear his masquerade mask before walking towards her. "Stay calm and go take your bath. I called a doctor to take care of you." He said as he sat beside her. *What's the use of wearing the mask when she already saw your face?* He asked himself, but disregarded it to focus on persuading her to take her bath.

"Just briefly. And I need to find a mask to hide the bruise on my face." In the dressing room, she selected a more elaborate mask than before, one that would better conceal her bruise while still leaving her mouth and jawline exposed. The emerald and gold creation fastened securely, covering from her hairline to the middle of her cheekbones. It wouldn't hide everything, but combined with the dim lighting, it might be enough to avoid immediate questions.