The Masked Heiress: Don't Mess With Her นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“Get the hell out I need to dress up.” “Yeah. You should…” he replied to her and carried the big box on the table stretching it to her. “What's this?” She asked with a little frown settled on her face. “Check it out.” She wrapped herself well in the towel and gently opened the box. Inside lay a deep midnight-black satin dress and a silver mask. She looked up to him with her brow curved. “A dear friend of mine is hosting a masquerade ball tonight and he invited me over….”

Vanessa followed shortly after. Leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, Vanessa smirked. “Isabella, aren’t you afraid? Digging up other people’s dirt like this… what happens when yours comes out?” Isabella’s eyes narrowed slightly, a cold glint flashing within them. She turned, voice indifferent. “Who doesn’t have secrets in this industry? You included… Miss Hartley.” She deliberately emphasized the surname. Then, as if recalling something, she added lightly— “Speaking of which… doesn’t the title ‘mistress pretending to be a rich heiress’ suit you quite well? Saves me the trouble of coming up with a headline when I expose you.”

I head in, careful not to wrinkle to beautiful dress in my hands. And with the curtain falling to a close behind me and I start to peel off my shirt, mindful not to press onto my wound. The bleeding has stopped but I am not taking any chances with it. I do not think I can afford to pay for the dress if I stain it. I smell cigarettes from beyond the curtain. Elena is smoking. “The masquerade party,” she begins with a drawl and my ears perk up, intent on catching every word that comes out of her mouth, “is not merely a party. It is a façade for the rich and powerful to mingle, to strike business deals and to carve out alliances.”

Nodding, she works to pull down her skirt and fix the top of her dress, which has been messed up from my groping. “You’re going to need this,” I announce, passing her a mask that sits beside me. “Since this is a masquerade.” “A masquerade,” she repeats, fixing her mask in place. “Like a ball?” “Something like that,” I respond as the door in front of us opens and our driver, who looks flustered, appears. “You’ll see soon enough; now come.”

My instinct tells me it is induced. “Are you saying somebody deliberately made her sick?”. Stone didn't get a response as Enzo shut him up with an icy precision. *** Time flies so fast. One of the biggest and mightiest weddings in New York is about to take place. “You fool. I told you not to put too much blush on my face”. Brittany yelled with a venomous gaze “I am so sorry ma'am. It was a mistake”. She tried cleaning the makeup with the tissue in her hands but Brittany slapped her hands away.

"This isn't ours! Our shop is the most upscale bridal boutique in Ausville. People like you don't belong here. Get out, or I'll call the police!" Crossing my legs elegantly, I cast a disdainful glance at Rosalie and said slowly, "Call the police? Sure, let's have them decide who's impersonating me, who destroyed my receipt in broad daylight, and who's slandering me." As I spoke, I pulled out my phone, ready to dial. Aspen's expression shifted, and she screamed, "Alice Lowe! Don't you dare!" Why wouldn't I dare? There was nothing I wouldn't dare to do when dealing with a wannabe imposter!

We will be having a lot of guests tonight and I need to be ready for that. I went out of the bathroom and prepared myself. I wore a silver strapless fitted dress with a slit on it. It's kinda loose in front so my boob was emphasized. I also wore my yves saint laurent stilettos and put some fabulous makeup on. I shouldn't stress out myself for my bullshit past. I have almost everything and I can get whatever I want. I'm so lucky to be born as Madden. I went out of my room and hugged my dad.

"Then we make a mess." Three nights later, the villa shimmered with golden lights and haunting music. A masquerade unlike anything Eros had seen in decades. Power danced beneath crystal chandeliers. Deals whispered behind feathered masks. Danger cloaked in elegance. Sera stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in black velvet that hugged every inch of her curves. A golden mask framed her eyes, feathers fanning out like wings of a phoenix. She didn't look like a survivor. She looked like royalty.

"I'm here. No weapons. Just me and Essa." She stood in the corner with her back against a rusted fuse box, a canvas vest strapped across her chest. Wires spiraled from a detonator clutched in her trembling hand. Her dark hair was wild, her eyes rimmed red, and the composed mask she'd worn at the Rossi estate had cracked into something raw and unguarded. "Of course you brought her." Isabella's laugh was jagged as broken glass. "The girl who walked into the wrong suite and stole my husband. The girl who's been playing mafia princess while I rotted in that mansion."