She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 687: Angel and Devil

Cheyenne's pupils contracted, staring motionlessly at the face beneath the man's mask, her red lips slightly parted, revealing her white teeth.

"Why...?"

The face before her was truly a coexistence of angel and devil. His left cheek was marked with pockmarks, crisscrossed with bulging veins that extended from the temple to the chin, resembling twisted branches spreading across half of his face, with a bluish tint, as ghastly as an evil spirit crawling out of hell.

As for the other half of his face, she didn't get a chance to see before the man promptly covered it with his hand. She faintly glimpsed a shaped nose bridge, leading down to his sexy lips, now tightly pursed into a straight line.

He hastily picked up the fallen white mask from the ground, without a moment to spare to say a word to Cheyenne, and dashed in a sorry state towards the main hall.

During his rushed departure, a small rubber band slipped from his hand.

Cheyenne stared at the tiny cherry-colored rubber band on the floor for a long time. Her almond-shaped eyes squinted as she crouched down to pick it up.

After careful examination, a wave of shock surged in her heart, as if a sudden storm had struck on a clear summer day, catching her off guard.

Wasn't this something Kate had given her?

Why would it be on this man?

Who is he, exactly?

Could he be the person from her dreams?

With these thoughts, as Cheyenne belatedly turned to look for the man's figure, he had already vanished into the crowded throng of people.

She scanned the room, only seeing a blend of vibrant dresses and men's suits in the ballroom.

The dance had begun.

It was time for her to return as well.

On the other side, Kelvin sprinted all the way to the end of the corridor on the second floor. Since there was no one there, the lights were not turned on either.

floors, and a faint crescent

corner. The silver moonlight shone on his white mask, giving it a desolate and lonely appearance like a

beneath the mask, landing softly on the wooden floor, creating a subtle

silver-white hair to

cowardly in any moment like he did just now. Insecurities, unwillingness, fear... these were things he had always disdained as someone born privileged and self-proclaimed strong. Never did he expect that they would eventually become the lingering shadows that

minutes, he extended a long, slender hand with distinctive knuckles and slowly took off the mask from his

entire ugly face in the pure white moonlight, as if hoping it

merely his naive

it be washed

already ruined, so hideous that he would startle himself every time

never needed to look in the mirror. He could confidently proclaim that he, step by step, had created the myth of the Foley

shock and astonishment in her

afraid of

than the burning torment he endured every day. In that instant, his blood seemed to

was strange yet calm, as if she was looking at an

match up to

up. Even if she was afraid of him, he couldn't

What should he do?

and reluctance, but to move forward led to insecurity and

tormented, footsteps echoed from the stairs, making a

was the sound of wooden clogs on the

sound, there were two

this secluded attic with no one around, the

his mask and directing

failing, pressing his

two individuals arrived at the spot where he was just

fear that they might continue further, sweat pouring

voice, a woman's voice, seductive and proud, exuding the aura of

arrived in Jostrana. This time, keep a close eye on Cheyenne, we can't

familiar name lit up

his head

a clear view