The Masked Heiress: Don't Mess With Her Novels & Stories

“It's not that difficult, Young Master. You can do it.” She gave him a thumbs up and Lucas glared at her and left. When he joined Heidi in his car, she was retouching her makeup. Reaching inside the car's compartment, Lucas brought out a face mask. “Remember you need to wear this.” “Not again!” She whined. “Why don't you wear it yourself, Lucas Harrison?” “Heidi, we must be cautious whenever we go out in public. Have you forgotten?” Her shoulders dropped and she wore the mask hesitantly. “Urgh, I miss my freedom. I long to see Grandpa and the rest.”

“And I will give them exactly what they want.” Silas’s expression changed by a fraction. Vivienne lifted her chin. “If Laurent Atelier buys V, then Laurent Atelier opens its doors to V. I do not need to fight my way inside. I can walk through the front door wearing a mask.” Mara’s eyes widened slowly. “You want to become their designer.” “I want to become their problem.” Silas studied her for a long moment. The warehouse noise faded around them. Then he smiled. It was not warm.

May⁠a acce‌pted it wi‌th th‍e so‌lemn dignit‍y of someone rece‍iving a gift. I stood u⁠p and turned back to the mirror and t​hat was when I heard it. ‍One of the other st⁠ylists, a you‌n‍g w⁠oman who had been straightening things‌ near the b‌ack of‍ the r‌oom and clearly t⁠hought she was speaking t‍oo qui‍etly to​ be heard, said‍ something to Bisi. "I hear‍d the las‍t woman h​e brought t⁠o the Whitmore gala was Selene. T‌his is quite a​ change."

“What?” ‘I understand you. Don’t ramble around.” A flicker of hurt crosses her eyes, but it’s gone when she blinks. She swallows and nods. “Okay. I promise to not make things awkward between us.” “Make sure to eat the fruit, Heiress.” A smile that doesn’t reach her eyes tilt up her lips. “I will.” I linger for a moment, standing there in her room, trying to convince myself to leave, trying to swallow the flood of words I want to spill.

I called out "Stephen wake up Marco. We are going to Florence. We are not going there to fight a deed; we are going there to declare a sanctuary." The battle for the Underlying Title was about to move from a property dispute to a crusade. Elias wanted a quarry; I was going to give him a cathedral. As we piled into the car at dawn I looked back at the hunting lodge. The smoke was still coming from the chimney, a line of defiance. Elias was still sharpening his knife. He did not know that I had found the stone that could not be cut. The Rossi Heritage was no longer a vintage; it was a fortress. The Hidden Heiress was finally ready to stop being the victim of her blood and start being the prote

“The world still thinks you two are estranged. A sudden joint appearance will shake every camera‑lens in New York. Use that light. Let them think reconciliation; it hides our real play.” The idea turned my stomach and yet… strategy demanded illusion. For years I’d been the woman he humiliated; now, for one night, that image might serve me. I rested both palms on the table. “Fine. I’ll wear the mask again. But he follows my lead.” “Luca’s shadowing as security,” Elias said. “You’ll have cover.” “Then we assemble at nineteen hundred.” Damian’s grin was razor‑thin. “Time to crash a party.”

I refuse to look at the part of me that hopes she fails. ... Hours later, I step into the ballroom late, my hand fan raised to shield the lower half of my face. “I present, Celine Dontellar, second daughter of Alpha Dontellar.” The announcer says and in my mind’s eye, everyone in the hall pauses to watch me. Right. I might as well have stepped in here naked for all the subtlety. I wonder whether Annika’s efforts will have any effect. The masquerade mask covers the upper part and my scent is being shielded by scent-blocking herbs.

She didn’t need a mask to be intimidating, but it made her look like a goddess of vengeance. “Remember,” she said, adjusting his tie with a possessive tug. “You are not a thief. You are my instrument. Your will is an extension of my own. There is no fear, only purpose.” He believed her. The party at Cavendish’s country estate was a spectacle of obscene wealth. The air thrummed with the sound of a string quartet, laughter, and the clinking of champagne flutes. Dozens of masked figures swirled through the grand rooms. Elias felt a familiar panic rising, the old Elias screaming to get out.

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

“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