The Masked Empire Novels & Stories

The woman I assumed to be her nanny bowed and excused herself from the room while I paced around, running my fingers through my hair and wondering what other secrets he had. "So let's get this straight, you are masked for some reasons unknown to everyone, including me, and now you have a secret daughter that you didn't bother telling me about? What do you take me for?" I yelled, slowly losing my cool. "I told you, Ariel. Don't allow your feelings to get in the way because this marriage is nothing but a mere alliance. And you don't have to worry about my daughter, she's not your responsibility. Just focus on being a good wife to me and a great mother to our unborn children," He shot back.

My grip tightens on the phone. No. No, no, no. My heart slams against my ribs, my pulse roaring in my ears. I watch him—Ghost—standing in that fucking room, his hands shaking, desperation clear in his eyes. He wasn’t pleading for our lives. He was trying to undo what he did. “Why should we believe you?” the masked man asks. Ghost lets out a bitter, humorless laugh. “How else would I know the name? Come on, why do you think I told that idiot to stop?” His hands clench at his sides, his whole body tense. “Just take the three million and let us go.”

I sat down on the couch and texted back: Work or personal? Emma: Personal. There’s a masquerade party this Saturday. You’re coming with me. I frowned. Why? Emma: Long story. The guy who’s been bothering me will be there. I need backup. I was tempted to say no. Parties weren’t my thing. But before I could type a full excuse, she sent another message. Emma: I already picked your outfit. Sexy dress and mask. No room for debate. I sighed. Of course she did. In the end, I said yes. Because Emma was Emma, and I owed her.

Emma raised a brow in question and let me put the white mask on her face, her bright blue eyes dilating when I tied it behind her head, making sure it was secure. “Don’t remove it,” I ordered, wearing my black mask, similar to hers, and entered the club. “Too bad it will be tugged off eventually,” she said, smugness dripping from her voice. I ignored the sultry music playing in the background and everyone’s stares as they ogled both of us, and pulled her closer. “What the fuck does that mean?” I asked, growling in her ear. Emma blinked up at me innocently. “If you don’t want to fuck me, Cillian, I am going to do an exhibitionism show in a private room, and I’m sure I’ll get many people—men,

The sales lady asked me. “Yes.” I answer her and she quickly said, “I have the perfect mask then.” A few minutes later the sales lady returns with pair of stilettos that I slid my feet into the shoes and then she pulls a black mask out of a box that was wrapped in tissue and places it on my face and ties it behind my head. “Wow!” Emily says as I stand in front of her. “If this doesn’t draw my brother’s attention, I don’t know what will.”

It was a masked man who had been with the former Ice Sect master; naturally, the emperor was furious and glared at the Ice Sect with murderous intent. “If you cannot explain this to me, then the Long Empire will truly become your sect’s enemy!” Emperor Long declared to the Ice Sect Master. Hearing Emperor Long’s words did not frighten the Ice Sect Master; instead, he responded with a mocking smile, gazing at Emperor Long and the Empress.

“Then the world sees us as one now.” He tipped her chin up so she could see the truth in his eyes. “We are one. And nothing—not Angela, not Bernard’s shadow, not even the gods themselves—can break what we sealed last night.” Her lips trembled with a smile, though her heart thundered. For all her strength as the Masked Alpha, for all her secrets and battles, nothing compared to this vulnerability: being known, being claimed, being loved openly before the world.

To be a fortress, a system of allies rather than a web of personal connections. When the head of his father’s security detail sat him down that night and told him, in no uncertain terms, that the fatal car crash that supposedly killed his parents had been staged, he didn’t feel an ounce of surprise. It was the natural way for them to go. With assassin’s bullets in their skulls. If whoever killed them had expected the empire to crumble, though, they were woefully mistaken. There was absolutely nothing that could shake the company’s foundations, not while he was alive. He would never disappoint his father and mother, not even in death.

One of them asked. “What is the secret of your ever growing empire?” Another inquired. “Tell us miss Becca, will you really be signing an agreement with Hernandez group of companies?” This last question piqued her curiosity and she turned her attention to the reporter. She badly wanted to ask him what he meant but she knew she couldn’t. At least not yet until she understood what exactly was going on. “Why don’t you wait for the official announcement from the company?” Flashing them a smile, she briskly walked towards the entrance.

She could hear the almost silent ruckus the other Skippers were making but were too immersed with her despair to ever entertain it. “Do you know why Masakonians are feared?” started Michelle, her voice a little strained. Her shadow put her right hand on its dark stomach. ‘Masakonians are the source of evil.’ Michelle snorted. “Yeah, right, evil!” The Masaque Empire was the underground of Pasithea. It rarely ever shower there and even the sun was hesitant to share its light to the land, so it’s always been cold out there. Thought in terms of the size the Masaque was incomparable with the Forbidden City, it’s a poor empire.