The Billionaire's Masquerade Novels & Stories

For the first time, Nathan took Tessa out somewhere that wasn’t the hospital. The masquerade ball was a charity event, or more precisely, an elite fundraiser. Tessa hadn’t wanted to come. Crowds weren’t her thing. But since everyone would be wearing masks, she decided to go. At least tonight she could see the world outside Nathan’s mansion. They stepped into the grand hall where laughter and chatter filled the air.

His mask was simpler, matte black, and once it covered the upper half of his face the familiar lines of his expression became something sharper and less readable. The drive lasted longer than I expected. When the convoy finally slowed I understood why. The venue was no ordinary ballroom. An expansive estate rose behind the high iron gates, all pale stone and tall arched windows glowing with warm light. Manicured gardens stretched on either side of the long approach, and the main entrance blazed under the light of dozens of lanterns. This was old money layered over older power. Politicians, businessmen, mafia heirs, and renegade leaders moved up the wide steps in formal black, every face hidd

Masquerade. One game. No names. Only dares. They say what happens at the Black Velvet Gala stays there. But no one told me what would happen if I stepped into the billionaire’s boudoir. I didn’t belong there. Not among billionaires, heirs, and masked devils who reeked of power and secrets. I was a low-level event photographer hired last minute to replace someone who dropped out. All I had was my camera, my anonymity, and a daring streak I usually kept hidden.

I don’t trust myself to create the perfect makeup for such an event, and it was worth every penny. I adjust my mask, and take in a deep breath. I am nervous. This is my first time not just attending a masquerade ball, but one that is being attended by the who and who in the society, the big names, from politicians to billionaires, and without forgetting the leaders of the mafia groups. I don’t even know how such groups get to mingle because from all I know about mafia groups is that they are criminals, an abomination in society, thieves, and selfish individuals, but I guess that’s kind of everyone here. The place smells of expensive perfume and the faint hint of cigar smoke.

She picked up her phone and turned around to run as far away as possible from them! Without taking anything, she ran out of the house barefooted. —At the Hotel— An average-looking man is seen standing in front of the masked man with honey tea and a slice of lemon dipped into the cup. The man is Black William, the 3rd richest billionaire in the top 10 in the entire states. He is powerful, divine, and reserved. But under the reserved gentleman lies another side of him that he indicated with his mask on. He is the rawest of the term cold-hearted, and merciless. He takes his business seriously but no one has ever seen his face.

I wanted to believe that's what she had to say. “No. It's something better. Our company is a branch company of a major conglomerate and our headquarters is hosting a masquerade ball.” Dorothy said. I didn't understand how a masquerade ball would be the solution to my problems. Would it? “And….” I said. “I know you're wondering how this is your solution, but do you know that there would be billionaires from all over the city at that ball?” Dorothy asked, almost in a whisper.

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

That doesn't mean I'm insecure of my looks either. Right now, she's dressed in a long, tasteful, red silk gown that draws all eyes to her. With her carefully curated smile, and champagne flute held delicately in one hand, she looks elegant, graceful, and every inch the millionaire artist she is. While I look like a neglected shadow next to her. What a bitch. "So," She turns to me, flipping her hair over her shoulder. I swear flower petals and sparkles fall out. "Where is your husband?" I roll my eyes and chug down some of my champagne. "At home."

Especially him. Damian Blackwood. The man I am supposed to marry. A billionaire whose name made tycoons tremble. Cold, ruthless, untouchable. I had seen the way he looked at me during our brief engagement meetings—like I was just another piece of asset, another acquisition. And I refuse to be bought. The curtains lifted. Applause rolled through the crowd. One by one, we glided onto the stage, gowns shimmering under the lights. Each of us masked, each mysterious, each promised to the highest bidder for the sake of “charity.” My turn came all too soon. My heels clicking like gunshots against the polished floor.

“No isn’t he just a random guy that came for the exhibition “That was Noah knight” I still didn’t get “And what does that mean Sarah just get to the point, so that I can go back to my sad thoughts “That guy you just mistook as the curator is the famous billionaire that just got out of jail a week ago” Then I remembered the new on the t.v earlier, so that’s the guy everybody keeps talking about. well he is really good-looking, I wonder if ias dating anyone. not like it matters to me, but it will be a shame if he was single