The Masked Heart Novels & Stories

Edward sighed as he accepted the fact that he had to explain his identity when Andrea burst out in tears. "My head hurts so much and I feel so cold. Everyone hates me…" Andrea cried as she held her head. Edward used this time to wear his masquerade mask before walking towards her. "Stay calm and go take your bath. I called a doctor to take care of you." He said as he sat beside her. *What's the use of wearing the mask when she already saw your face?* He asked himself, but disregarded it to focus on persuading her to take her bath.

Drake's face hardened, and he continued, "You must be familiar with games like this." Before Drake could respond, the masked man shoved one of the knives into his left atrium. The knife was fake, so it didn't penetrate his flesh. "Oops, I forgot your heart is on the right," chuckled the masked man before swiftly plunging the other knife into Drake's right atrium. The blade sank deep into his flesh, causing Drake to spite out a mouthful of blood. The masked man stepped back. "Don't worry. It won't kill you. I'll just try every kind of torture until you surrender and give me that thing. I'd be happy to have you join the Illuminati."

“And don’t answer to anyone calling you away from the main room. If someone does, come find me immediately. Do you understand?” “Yes,” Emilia said slowly. “But—what’s going on, Mara? What’s this party really about?” Mara didn’t answer at first. Her gaze shifted, scanning the hallway. When she finally looked back, there was something tight in her jaw. “There are things you’re better off not knowing, Emilia. For now, just keep your head down.” With that, she handed Emilia a small box wrapped in black silk. “Your mask.” Inside was a sleek black mask, simple but elegant, with delicate satin ribbons and tiny silver stitching along the edge. Not as ornate as the others she'd seen guests preparing,

The black envelope arrived on a Thursday afternoon, slipped under my apartment door like a secret sin. No postage. No return address. Just heavy matte paper the color of midnight, sealed with a drop of deep crimson wax stamped with an ornate mask. My fingers trembled as I broke the seal. Inside lay a delicate golden mask — intricate filigree that would cover just enough of my face to hide my identity, yet leave my full lips and sharp jaw exposed. Tucked beneath it was a single blood-red card, the words embossed in elegant gold script:

The reporter lowered the microphone to one of the girls but her face was covered with something black to hide her identity while she spoke, “The masked man isn’t a monster. He is kind. Thanks to him, I’ll see my parents again.” Another one whose disguise was also hidden said, “Thank you Mr Mask for saving us, God bless you.” The reporter spoke again, “We also have someone here, who spoke with the masked man. Let’s hear what she has to say about him.” “Mr. Mask isn’t a robot. He has a very beautiful heart and a beautiful girlfriend.” ‘A beautiful heart and a beautiful girlfriend.’ Those words were registered on Casper Blade’s mind, as he watched the world news from the training academy. At th

Just a dismissal. I pulled my knees to my chest, the metal of the mask biting into my palms. The ache in my heart was a jagged thing. I was terrified that he didn't love me—he loved the "Silver Winter." He loved the mystery of the mask, the power of the Northern Alpha, and the thrill of the chase.

She looked at herself in the foggy mirror and put the mask back on. She left only the window open and the lights off. She sat on the edge of the king-size bed, waiting. The open robe revealed more than it hid. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought he might hear it from the hallway. The door opened slowly. And there he was. The masked man. Silence…

I asked, wondering if there's something that I can afford to buy to contribute to the charity. "Yes," Mr. Waltham nodded. "But that's not necessary. If you don't want to buy anything you can always write down a cheque and drop it there," He pointed to a glass box by the entrance door. The name Healing Hearts was written on it in bold. "Ohh," I nodded. "Do you want to go and see the display?" Liam asked. "Won't hurt, "I muttered nonchalantly and Liam laughed. We headed towards the far end of the room and through a small hallway to another room not as palatial but not small either.

Involuntarily, I screamed as another bullet hit the rear window and shattered. A second later, the door next to my head opened, and a man dressed in black with a ski mask got in. Before I could react, he put something over my face. I tried to get free by grabbing his hand and pulling it away from my face, but it was like all my strength had depleted.

Tears streamed down her face unchecked. For the first time, all Ryan felt was disgust. He flung her hand aside. "Get out!" After that, Olivia vanished from Ryan's world, but suspicion gnawed at him, driving him to dig into her secrets. What he uncovered made his blood run hot with rage. Olivia's so-called heart condition had been a fabrication from the very start. She had never been sick. She never needed my mother's kindness. Every word she spoke to them had been an act.