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

Emanuela died on the coldest day of that winter. The poison took three full days to run its course. They said her final state was horrifying. Her skin was ulcerated, and her eyes were bloodshot. She was like a rotting corpse. No one claimed the body. Her ashes were scattered into the Blackthorn River. It was where my grave should have been. Alessandro inherited the title of Don. But he abandoned the main estate and moved into the side wing that had once been mine. My room remained untouched. The Colt pistol lay on the nightstand. He polished it daily.

she asked, offering her arm. I couldn't help but laugh at her exaggerated manners. "Yes, let's go," I said, linking my arm with hers. As we made our way into the grand mansion, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and trepidation. It had been years since I had been to a masked party, and the memories of my past relationship still lingered. Amelia, on the other hand, was in her element. She danced and mingled with ease, while I found solace at the bar, sipping on a drink and watching the partygoers from afar.

she kept pouting her small round baby lips as she watched them pull out if the drive way. She had also gotten over the fact that her dad was not a masquerade. But she had found his mask either way and held it in her tiny hands. "Let my keep that for you " a maid offered as she ate and okayed around, but she held unto it dearly saying it was her dad's. She was delicate and couldn't be stressed, she they left her to herself as they were too cared to be like the gardener from the day before. As soon as the coue pulled up at the front porch of the Browns in Edward's Lamborghini, Nfrea felt her pm start to get sweaty, so she continued rubbing it on her dress.

“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.”

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.