Novel & Cerita The Man In The Iron Mask

The woman stood still, her body tense. Her golden mask, a true work of art adorned with gemstones, concealed the upper part of her face, revealing only her lips and chin. It was more than just a mask—it was a masterpiece. Elijah's expression darkened as he whispered to his subordinate, "After all this searching, you bring me this?!" The subordinate stammered nervously, "S-Sir, we hired the best private investigators in Centrolis and followed your leads. This is the result."

A grand double staircase extended to the upper floor. No one was able to recognize one another, since they were all wearing masks and it was all panned by Ivan himself. Adam didn’t let go of Mariah even for a second, he wanted to make sure she was safe even if it cost him his own life. After a few minutes, a man appeared and stood right between the double staircase so everyone could see him. He was wearing a mask as well but along with the mask, he was also wearing a crown. He had a glass in one hand and a fork in other. Adam noticed him and knew exactly who he was. The figure above him was staring directly towards his direction but something was odd. He wasn’t looking at Adam, his eyes were

I was no stranger to death in my life, but that didn’t mean I felt comfortable being around dead bodies at length. What was I doing here? Why was I chained to an embalming table? I jerked at my wrist restraints again with a feral snarl. The man behind the clown mask just chuckled again and pushed away from the wall where he was leaning. “Those handcuffs are made of titanium, and only I hold the key. Good luck getting out.” “What do you want with me?” I demanded. “Who are you?” There wasn’t an answer right away. I tried to make out the man’s eyes behind the mask, but the hood he wore over his head shadowed them and made it impossible to see the color. All I knew was that he was broad and musc

He stepped out from the shadows like a man who’d never been in hiding, wearing a sleek black coat and a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. He had to be the masked man from the bunker. The way he moved. That voice. The cold certainty in his presence. It was him. It had always been him. I had even seen him before—at Dante’s mansion—long before I saw his photo in the evidence. “You’re early,” he said casually. I stiffened. “You’re a traitor.” He smirked. “Big words from a little girl.” “You had my father taken.” “I had no choice. You went poking around where you shouldn’t.”

Either way, I wasn’t about to apologize. I looked up. The man holding me wore a dark, fitted masquerade mask that covered the upper half of his face, but it didn’t hide his features. He had a dominant, razor-sharp jawline, a mouth that curved into a devastating half-smile, and a powerful, magnetic stillness. He wasn’t a boy. He was a mature man, exuding the kind of authority that only came from immense wealth and power. His dark eyes locked onto mine through the cutouts of his mask, making me completely forget what I was about to say.

The air was damp, and the walls were lined with rusting bars. A shadow emerged from the corner. The man wore a mask, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “Welcome,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. My heart raced. It was obviously Diego. “Diego,” I hissed. “Why the mask? Afraid to show your face?” The man chuckled and yanked on my chains, pulling me closer. I spit in his face, “Coward!.” He wiped his cheek and smirked. “Ficy I see,” he remarked before turning to leave.

Seeing her goal achieved, she politely said a few more words, then stood up and left without looking back, completely missing Evan's sudden change of expression as she rose. A tall, straight figure slowly emerged from the inner room. The man wore a golden mask covering most of his face. He was dressed in a well-tailored black suit, darker than ordinary black, making him appear shrouded in a dense black mist. Deep, cold, and with a suffocating oppression. "I've agreed to her demands," Evan said, looking at the man before him with a mix of fear and disgust, barely suppressed as he enunciated each word. "Nestor, don't forget what you promised me."

I was stunned. The man in front of me wore a mask that covered half of his face. His golden eyes sparkled like stars in the darkness. His eyes were dark and cold. Although half of his face was obscured by a silver mask, the other half was as perfect as a picture of Vincent van Gogh's starry night sky.

"Come in and take the things away... Prepare for cremation!" "Yes." Someone walked in. He wore a white isolation suit, a mask, and a hat. He took the iron tray and walked out. "Wait..." Daisy suddenly stopped him. The man was shocked. He paused and looked at Daisy. Daisy waved her hand and said, "Nothing... Take them away!" The man bowed slightly to Daisy and went out carrying the tray. When he walked to the door, he changed direction. His eyes were hidden under the protective mask, and his facial features were completely covered. Then, in an invisible corner, he put the rosewood box into his pocket.

The masked man stared at her. As he was wearing a mask, Stella couldn't see his expression clearly. However, she could sense that the masked man knew her. Otherwise, why was he wearing a necklace with her photo in it? "Speak," Stella urged him again. "You wouldn't want to know who I am," The masked man said. His voice was low and hoarse, just like the sound of a cello, making people feel a faint sadness in their hearts. She dismissed that sadness and did not continue to ask further. "Thank you for saving me."