Unmasking Mr Right Novels & Stories

But I knew I had no right to. Not after everything that’d just happened. How could a spectacular night go so horribly wrong? He nodded once, slow, like he was accepting it. “If that’s what you want.” Something in my chest twisted. This wasn’t what I wanted. But it was what needed to happen. He bent down, grabbing his clothes from the floor, his movements efficient, detached. Like he’d already checked out. He pulled on his shirt, not looking at me. Somehow, his movements had a tone of finality.

"I get that you're kind of a big deal in Avalon City, but isn't this a bit much?" The guy who walked in wore all black, his face hidden behind a dark mask and cool shades. If Julia did not know him so well, she would not have had a clue who he was. "What do you think you know?" he asked, a smirk in his eyes as he flopped into a chair and took off his sunglasses and mask, revealing a face that was drop-dead gorgeous. It was a face Julia could never get enough of, the spitting image of Walter's. She had to snap back to reality, squeezing her fists tight, trying to sound calm as she said, "Come on, like I wouldn't recognize you? You're just worried about someone spotting who you really are, are

"Name your price, Sable. Sign a contract to work only for me, and you never have to dance on this public stage again." A sudden surge of triumph settled into my chest when I saw the money, but it made me sad too. This was the man I loved, but he only wanted me when I hid my true self. I leaned down a little bit, keeping my face away from his hands. I made my voice sound lower so my boss would never recognize his quiet assistant. "Some things cannot be bought so easily, Mr. Ashford," I replied, tilting my head. "Everything has a price," Blake muttered, his jaw tightening. He reached out and tried to grab the edge of my silk dress. "Especially a woman hiding behind a piece of metal. Show me wh

Mike did not know what Mr. R had gone through, but there must have been a story behind his face. Mr. R was already numb to Mike’s reaction toward his face. However, Mike seemed relatively calm. Mr. R’s gaze swept over Mike contemptuously, and his voice became deeper, almost warning, "Mr. Corden!" Mike suddenly came to his senses, and the corners of his mouth twitched. "Sorry, I didn't know…" "You don't know how ugly my face was, huh?" Mr. R gently stroked his mask. At this moment, Mike noticed that the same scars also covered Mr. R’s hands.

Murmurs filled the place, the attention I dreaded the most now gifted to me without a price. I swallowed. The two other men scoffed, their lips parting in disbelief. One of them barked, “What the heck?! Did you just punch a conglomerate’s face?” Maverick's hands moved to his pocket, neatly getting tucked in. His voice was dark, words savage. “I'm glad I did” “Is she so ugly that you don't want her to show her face?” The other laughed. He moved fast, appearing beside me. Forcefully, he ripped the mask off my face, gasps renting the air.

Marcus asked, holding out a tray. Tonight’s mask was different. It wasn't the clinical filigree I wore in the office. This one was crafted from white gold and encrusted with tiny, raw diamonds that shimmered like frozen tears. It covered the upper half of my face, leaving my lips—painted a defiant, lethal crimson—exposed. "Tonight, we don't hide, Marcus," I whispered, watching my reflection. "Tonight, we remind them that the shadows always return to claim what is theirs."

“Barely.” ⸻ Halfway through the show, I felt it. A stare. Not casual, not curious….targeted. Heavy enough to feel like fingers trailing down my spine. I turned subtly, scanning the crowd through my mask. Laughter, conversation, flashbulbs. Everyone looked too busy to notice me. Except him. He stood at the far end of the hall, maskless — because power never needed disguise. Malrik. My pulse faltered. He was in a dark suit, collar open, no tie. His gaze cut through the crowd and found mine like it was inevitable.

We talked and laughed, sharing stories and getting to know each other better. Just as we were in the middle of our conversation, the door creaked open, and a tall, dark-skinned man walked in. My head instinctively turned to greet him. Just as I raised my face to greet him, I felt a jolt of recognition run through me. It was the same guy from the masked party! I couldn't believe it; I had unmasked him in the washroom while we were kissing. I didn't know I'd remember his face ever again.

I gently untied the mask as I breathed deeply, then stood up straight and flashed my fierce look, which would greet everyone once my mask was removed. "Our powerful CEO, Amari Fleur Guevarra," Uncle Franco continued after I had completely removed the mask. I scanned everyone's faces, and they seemed surprised. Uncle's trick is effective. Some loudly commented that it was surprising that the CEO was a woman, but the others were still speechless and stared at me.

What was he doing here? “Fine,” I replied dryly. - What are you doing here? “Your superiors insisted on his presence,” Maroon explained as he descended the spiral staircase from the second floor. And again I saw his real appearance, and not the induced mask. Many gifted hid their appearance, hiding behind a haze. A mirage of the image in which they would like to be seen by mere mortals. For example, Korotkov also had a mask, but I did not see what he really looked like. However, it was very difficult not to notice her. I didn't even know who else had seen his little secret. Maroon had the illusion of an ordinary clerk in a business suit. Only I saw through it, as through blurry glass. “Send