The Billionaire's Masquerade Where To Watch Mga Nobela at Kwento

Yan Anna knew it was a prestigious private hospital frequented by celebrities and the wealthy, generally out of reach for the average person. Feeling a tight grip on her wrist, she looked down to see Andrew's hand firmly holding hers. The cool touch of his hand was not painful. Seeing his expression darken again, Yan Anna didn't dare to object and obediently followed him inside. Andrew Luxton took her straight to the top floor via the elevator. At Hospital, the dean and some senior staff were in a meeting when they were interrupted by an assistant doctor who announced the arrival of the big boss. They were startled and quickly ended the meeting, hurrying back to their offices.

Anything that makes the money clean is good. “This business that I had invested in is planning to announce a new model of their product. They invented an innovative product that people think would become big in the market. They are holding a grand show for this new product as an official date of its release. A lot of huge investors and billionaires will be there so it is important that you wear the most expensive dress that you own.” My eyes turned excited at his words. A party for billionaires and elites where we can flaunt our riches, that would be such a huge event and I’m glad that I could attend it with him.

I did want to decline his offer, but Miller spared me a glare, and I knew what that meant. We left for a high-class bar which was a few miles after the boutique. Seated and relaxing my muscles, I went through my phone to avoid us starting a conversation. "I heard you were coronated as the youngest billionaire of New York last year at the Billionaire's festive award." He let out, which for some reason caught my attention. I ran my hand in my hair before replying to his comment, "Since you are aware of that, I don't see why you chose to remind me."

He was stalling at the edge of the door instead of moving towards the couch. "Yes, it's afternoon indeed but not a good one Mr Milano" The grumpy man grumbled, lines forming on his forehead. I tried not to look smug as I exactly knew what he was angry about. It was getting tiring persuading him for an entire year so I bought his friend's company. As expected Nolan had a close relative who was ready to sell out and be happy in his townhouse. His brother. Nolan had invested in that business in the beginning so he was pissed.

It was Billionaire Elvis Presley! His massive body figure approached, his face as chilly as the icy air that appeared to fill the area. The host of the gala excused himself, leaving Alexander and me standing alone with his father. Elvis's sharp eyes fell on me immediately. "I've been hearing some pretty alarming rumors tonight, Isabella," he stated in a low, steely voice. I tensed up, my thoughts racing. "Sir, rumors?" A grim smile curved his lips. "Don't play games with me. Do you think I don’t notice everything that happens in my presence? Or that I don’t have ears everywhere?”

She pushed the covers off and stood, ignoring the way his gaze flickered over her briefly before he turned back toward the window. “What kind of event?” she asked, arms crossed. “A charity gala. High-profile. The media will be watching closely.” Leila sighed. “And I assume you expect me to act like the perfect doting wife?” Adrian turned, smirking. “Oh, darling—I expect you to convince them.” Her stomach twisted at the way he said it. Like he already knew she would. Like he already knew he was winning. She exhaled slowly. Fine. If this was how the game was played, she would play along.

One showed Smith at a private ballet performance, another at an avant-garde dance show, another with a blurred woman in a sequined costume leaving a nightclub. “He has a thing for dancers,” I said. “Not the sleazy type. He attends high-end showcases, late-night galas, underground clubs with exclusive performances. He’s always in the front row. Always watching.” Jeremy’s brow rose. “And you, my love… are one hell of a dancer.” I didn’t answer right away. My fingers traced the headline above one photo: Reclusive Billionaire Seen at Midnight Burlesque. The wheels in my mind were already turning.

Call me first thing. I ignored it and pulled up T*****r. And there it was. Still photos. Clear, crisp, taken from inside Liam’s penthouse. Me. Standing at the door, hugging him goodbye. His hand on my back, my face against his shoulder. The captions were brutal. “Secret Lovers?” “Amy’s Fake Engagement Exposed?” “Billionaire Beauty Plays Both Sides.” I dropped the phone onto the couch, my stomach churning. I could already imagine Bruce seeing it, the board seeing it, the world eating it alive.

"Although the money is decent, this is a masquerade performance. The clients prefer to be anonymous. I agreed right away without thinking. Friday night arrived fast, and before I knew it I was standing backstage at Eclipse, clad in a revealing costume and a black mask half my face. As I watched for my signal, my heart hammered in my chest. Soft, sensual lighting enveloped the stage as I left, the eyes of the patrons tracking every action. Trying to forget where I was and why I was doing this, I turned my attention to the music. The performance passed in a haze, my head disconnected from my body.