The Masked Heiress: Don't Mess With Her Mga Nobela at Kwento

We are strong and we refuse to let them kill our dreams and visions. “Well, I have no idea what you are talking about. But I just…” I paused, tilting my head slightly. “I heard the heiress hasn’t made any real public appearances. Not until recently—at the Wellington event. The one all over the news.” “I was there,” I added calmly, not accusing or anything. “I saw her. And she was wearing a mask. No one’s actually seen her face.” I gave a small shrug. “So it’s just… interesting that you’re saying you played golf with her last week.”

The woman released her on purpose. Let them take her. John fired. Chaos exploded. Glass shattering.Men shouting. Jessica was dragged across the marble floor with her fingers clawing at nothing. She saw John fighting toward her.The woman stood still in the center of the storm—watching and smiling. The masked leader crouched in front of Jessica. His visor reflected her terrified face. “Hello, heir,” he said softly. And then—he removed his mask. Jessica’s scream tore the room apart. Because she knew that face. And he was supposed to be dead.

This was the annual Masquerade Gala, the one night a year where the monsters of the corporate world wore masks that finally matched their souls. ​I stepped onto the polished marble floor, my heels clicking with a rhythm that felt far too much like a countdown. Click. Click. Click. Every step was taking me further away from my old life and deeper into the mouth of the beast. My dress, a deep midnight blue that shimmered like a bruised sky, felt like armor. It was backless, draped low to show off the skin I had spent years caring for, all to serve as a distraction. The lace mask over my eyes was tight, the delicate patterns pressing into my skin, reminding me that tonight, Elena Sterling did n

The rest had barricaded themselves in one of the lower towers and waited for rescue that never came. There were three of them left alive. Two women and a man, all bearing the marks of the attack—burn scars, wounds that had been hastily treated and were starting to show signs of infection. Their eyes were hollow in a way that suggested they'd witnessed things that human minds weren't supposed to see. The older woman's name was Captain Solace. She had close-cropped gray hair and a bearing that suggested she'd spent her entire life trying to hold things together. Even now, even in this catastrophe, she was trying.

“You know what your problem is? You’re not willing to admit that Yasmin got under your skin. She wasn’t just some girl Dad bought for you. She was yours, and now you don’t know how to function without her.” “Shut up, Marcus.” “Fine.” He held up his hands in mock surrender, but his smirk remained. “If you’re done being a brooding mess, why not have some fun? Look at that girl on the dance floor.” I followed his gaze reluctantly - this happens when you blindly make your way into your brother’s clubhouse. I turned towards his gaze and froze. She moved with the kind of confidence that demanded attention, her hips swaying to the beat. Her dark hair framed her face like a curtain, and though she w

“I knew this massage would cost me.” He chuckled, his arms tightening around her. “Too late now, Luna.” She sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’m not wearing white.” “Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to.” “Good.” “…You’re wearing red leather.” “Kayden!” He just grinned.

If he exposed her, she would lose everything. But if she went along with Richard's plan to divorce Jack and marry him, she would be trading one trap for another. "Ma'am? I found the Givenchy dress," Melissa said, returning with the black gown. Victoria stood up and tried to focus. One problem at a time. First, pull off this dinner party. Make the Masked Queen like her. Boost the Kaelthorn reputation. Then figure out how to deal with Richard.

Sophia's eyes widened, a spark of jealousy flashing in them. ‘Why is mother favouring Audrey that much? And who is this important person?’ “Mom, who is the person?” Audrey asked, eyeing the dress. It was a beautiful black gown, slanted to the knee. A pair of black heels and a box of silver jewelry also came with the gift. “You'll find out later, my love,” Mrs. Evangeline said with a smile, gave her a peck on both cheeks. “A make-up artist will be here to touch up your face,” she added before stepping out of the room.

I'd dated models, actresses, women who made careers out of being beautiful, but none of them had stayed in my head like this masked stranger I'd met for less than five minutes. The door to VIP Room Three stood open, I stepped inside, but she wasn't there yet. I sat on the leather sofa, adjusting my cufflinks out of nervous habit. The door opened. Nyx stepped inside wearing black lace this time. The lingerie left even less to imagination than the crimson from last week. Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, and that jeweled mask caught the amber light. I couldn’t take my eyes off how stunning she looked in that lace.

Eynas assisted his queen in her seat. Astra put her face to his face. She looked at him and smiled. "I'm fine" she mumbled and turned her redhead in front of her broods. "Let's welcome, the first heiress of the Erasmus Kingdom!" She growls. "And I declare war among dragons and humans! We will restore our dragon power, the Heart of Magic from them! Scream for me! Scream!" Astra made an extreme growl and all of them made a rumbling sound.