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

Felix watched in surprise as her earlier joyful expression, when she had wanted to surprise Dread at the party, transformed into pure anger. “Thank you for the dress and the mask,” she said, forcing a smile as she handed the masquerade mask back to him. “I have to leave.” Without waiting for a response, she strode past him toward the exit. Before her foot could even touch the threshold, she was abruptly pulled into the darkness. She gasped as her back hit the wall. Looking up, she found Dread pressing his entire body against hers, trapping her between him and the cold stone. “What are you…?” she began, but before she could finish her sentence, Dread crushed his lips to hers with desperate ur

The Masked Ball Upon Your Return - Episode 24 On the evening of the ball, she stood in front of the mirror as she prepared to leave. She wore an emerald gown with a matching glittery, feathered mask, which covered part of her eyes and nose. Her flame-colored locks were piled atop her head in a coronet with the other half falling like a cascade down her back. She wore emerald slippers and toted a like-colored bag. Donning a black shawl against the cool of night, she went to join Rosalie and Helene downstairs.

“You disappear off the face of the earth for months, and all you can say is ‘complicated’? Do you have any idea what’s been going on while you’ve been MIA?” “Valerie, now’s not really a good time—” “Oh, nonsense!” she interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “Listen, there’s a masquerade event tonight at the Blackwood Hotel. All the big names are going to be there. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to make an appearance and remind everyone why you’re the star of the show. Here, I got you a dress and a mask. I hope it fits. You look… fatter.” My stomach twisted as she shoved a box with a familiar designer logo into my hands.

“Hardly. I came to remind you that you don’t own this space; you don’t own this city. Tonight, the spotlight isn’t just yours.” With that, I turned my gaze to Gabriella, who took a small step back, observing me with equal parts disdain and intrigue. “Congratulations on your new partnership,” I said, my openness a strategic mask for the confidence bubbling beneath. “Though we all know you’re merely a pawn in Andre’s elaborate chess game.” Gasps spread through the attendees at my audacity, their eyes darting between the three of us, hungry for the unfolding drama. Gabriella lifted her chin, an unmistakable defiance glimmering in her icy gaze. “And you must be the runaway heiress who’s chosen t

she called softly. The man came out to face Emily. When the sunlight revealed his figure, Emily's breath hitched. The man was wearing a mask with a stick in his left hand!

"And so thin. Are you eating enough? I know how stressful it must have been these past couple of days. And… living with a man like Kieran Westfield." The way she says his name, like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth, makes my jaw clench. She has no idea what she's talking about, but then again, she never has. Before I can answer, the sound of heels on marble announces another arrival. Natasha appears at the top of the grand staircase like some twisted version of Cinderella. She's wearing a flowing sundress in pale pink with her hair perfectly curled and cascading over one shoulder. "Well, well." Natasha descends the stairs with grace, one hand trailing along the banister. "Look what the cat

He pulled me into a hug then, and I let him, my face resting stiffly against his shoulder, my eyes wide open and cold over his back, staring at the still water of the pond. “It’s real,” he murmured into my hair, his arms tight. “It’s finally real.” “Tomorrow night, then,” I said, my voice muffled against his shirt. “Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.” I pulled away, giving his hand a final, fake-squeeze before turning toward my car. I walked away, feeling the heat of his triumphant gaze on my back. The performance was over. The trap was set. I got into my car, locked the doors, and finally let the mask shatter. I rubbed my hands over my face, my skin crawling from his touch.

"The best dress they have, something that will make every man in the room envy me." Isabella opened her mouth, then closed it. After a long pause, she nodded stiffly. "Of course, Mr. Russo." As she turned to leave, I added, "And Isabella?" She looked back hopefully. "From now on, knock before entering." The door clicked shut harder than necessary. I leaned back in my chair, already picturing Ariana tonight beautiful in whatever dress they chose, her dark eyes shining, her lips curved in that smile she only showed when she thought no one was looking.

She looked at Maya and she headpanned herself why her assistant was so clueless. “Fine…” Maya quickly took the box from Felix who let out a sigh. He didn't want you to face Dante's wrath if she had rejected it. “Tell your boss thank you.” she muttered, “Also he should stop meddling in my life.” The door shut with a loud bang. “So Ruthless.” Felix scratched his head. He was filled with so much pity for his boss and he was glad he didn't have such a problem in his life. Maya opened the big box which revealed a long silver dress with lace at the back and a silver mask. The mask Victoria was supposed to wear was red but with her dress bad she would make do with the silver mask.

Beside it lay a mask—a plain, featureless white porcelain half-mask that covered the eyes and nose, devoid of glitter, feathers, or expression. "It looks like a shroud," Aria whispered, picking up the heavy velvet. "It’s a Domino," Cassandra corrected, applying a layer of gold shimmer to her collarbones. "Very Venetian. Very mysterious. And most importantly, it blends in with the drapes." She turned from the mirror, her eyes critical and cold. "Tonight is my twenty-ninth birthday, Aria. It is a Masquerade. The theme is 'Gilded Age Decadence.' I am the Queen. Damian is the King. And you..." She gestured vaguely at the gray heap. "You are the shadow."