The Billionaire's Masquerade Watch Online Free นิยาย & เรื่องราว

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.

All the women present were the same socialites Nina had fawned over at the SR private dinner. And every single one of them wore a super-watch. The super-watch was a piece of black-tech brilliance, a holographic projection watch that could replace a phone and connect to nearly every device. Donald and his team had developed it together, and only a hundred units had been produced so far. But preorders alone had already exceeded a twenty million dollars. Its marketing played on status—like a crown, as if wearing it instantly placed someone above the rest. Angela once wanted to gift one to Rachel, but Donald said even government officials were still waiting for their orders.

She snapped her fingers again, and another guard stepped forward, this time holding an exquisite box. Mrs. Santiago’s eyes sparkled as Sarah opened the second box, revealing a watch that gleamed under the light. “Here is the latest masterpiece from Graff Chevrolet,” Sarah announced, clearly savoring the attention. “It’s one of the most expensive watches in New York, valued at fifty-five million dollars.” I stifled a gasp. Fifty-five million dollars? For a watch? This was beyond my comprehension, a level of extravagance I couldn’t even fathom.

“After enlarging the photo of the mysterious man next to Josh Batton, it looks like this man might be a rich guy. The clothes he’s wearing are all globally limited-edition Versace designs, and his shoes also look like a globally limited-edition design. As for his watch, that’s even more impressive. This is a watch from Bulgari. In fact, there is only a single design of this that’s worth eighty million dollars.” Below the text, there were several enlarged photos of the accessories worn by the mysterious man.

"Pick me up at seven tonight." "Yes, Mr. Zerok." Killian Zerok looked nothing like the man who had crushed a witch's heart in his bare hand yesterday. Today, he wore a burgundy Brioni suit tailored so precisely. A crisp white shirt. A floral tie with a subtle pattern. Well-polished John Lobb shoes. A Vacheron Constantin watch that cost more than most people's cars sat on his wrist. He looked exactly like what he was supposed to be: a thirty-year-old tech billionaire worth thirty billion dollars.

_Tessa POV_ The music was kinda loud, you know it was actually vibrating through my bones and made my hips want to sway, even though my heels were already screaming at me. Fashion is pain right? And let me not get started with how super sweet the champagne is. Rich people totally pretend they love that stuff, just so they look classy. But hey, this wasn't just any get together party, this was a billionaire masquerade ball, the kind of men who wore power like a perfume and arrogance as second skin. Confidence overload, I swear.

Guards towers dotted the perimeter of the wide expanse of the compound, the whole place was as tight as a fucking prison cell, Reena thought. Tying the glittery diamond studded mask around her face, Reena prowled the ballroom. The ball was in full swing now, and the whispers of men and women belonging to the highest part of society washed through the huge ballroom like the smooth feeling of expensive wine. Despite the sweet taste of romance and hints of lusts in the air as expensively dressed men and women glided through the floor and the perfectly placed lights touching their skin with erotic hands, Reena could still see with her trained eyes the cloud of budding danger in the air, and she

It was a targeted maneuver to isolate Maeva and strip away her last line of defense. Kasen reached into his wet pocket. His fingers brushed against something hard, cool, and metallic. He pulled it out. It was his Patek Philippe watch—a multi-million-dollar masterpiece of platinum and sapphire glass. It was a rare celestial tourbillon, worth more than most high-society estates, and he had kept it hidden from the bank's asset freeze. It was his last piece of wealth in the world. He didn't hesitate. He slid the heavy platinum watch across the sticky table, stood up, and walked out into the freezing rain.

It was a live video transmission routing directly from a private, ultra-exclusive penthouse suite in the heart of the city. A sleek, impeccably tailored billionaire—a rival tycoon who had been quietly backing her father's offshore debts from the shadows—appeared on the screen. He held a glass of dark scotch, his expression entirely cold as he looked directly at Vivian's soot-stained form through the camera link.

He looked at the towering glass ceiling, his silver strand of hair glowing with a sickly, artificial violet light. ​"Mommy," he whispered, sitting up. "Why are you wearing a mask?" ​"It’s not a mask, Leo," Nora said, kneeling beside him. "It's... it's a uniform." ​"It looks like a mask," Leo said, his voice sounding older, filled with the "Silver Heir" wisdom that Nora had tried to bury. "The Pretty Lady across the hall said that when people become Billionaires, they stop having faces. They just have 'Portfolios'."