Billionaire’s Unseen Love (Bella and Alex)

Chapter 87

87 Tangled Dreams and Reality Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

The masquerade ball became a landscape of mixed emotions and untold stories. Emma, once

entangled in a marriage that had left her with a medley of feelings, now found herself grappling with the

remnants of her past. Her dance with Alex had stirred something within her, a blend of nostalgia and

newfound clarity.

Alex, on his part, sought solace in the quietude of the upstairs resting room, far removed from the

revelry below. The night had taken a toll on him, unraveling a plethora of emotions he hadn’t

anticipated confronting. As he surrendered to exhaustion, his thoughts inadvertently drifted to

Emma.

Lost in the labyrinths of sleep, Alex found himself in a dream that was more vivid than any reality he

had known. He was back at a defining moment by the seaside, reliving a past fraught with danger and

uncertainty. But this time, the narrative twisted unexpectedly with Emma’s entrance–a vision of her

from the ball, armed and assertive, altering the course of events.

Emma, in Alex’s dream, was a paradoxical blend of the woman he knew and an embodiment of

courage he had never witnessed in her. She fearlessly faced the threats that once had him cornered,

her presence a stark contrast to his memories of their shared past.

As dream and reality blurred, Alex’s subconscious painted a picture of Emma far removed from the

timid wife he remembered. In his dream, she was a force to be reckoned with, a savior in the midst of

chaos. It was a revelation that left him bewildered, questioning the depths of Emma he had failed to

explore.

Startled awake, Alex gasped, clutching his forehead as if to hold onto the remnants of the dream. The

vividness of Emma’s image lingered, her face etched in his mind with an intensity that shook him to the

core. It was as if the dream had unlocked a door, revealing aspects of Emma that Alex had never

acknowledged.

Downstairs, the party continued unabated, the guests lost in a whirl of masks and music. Emma, now

alone on the couch, reflected on the night’s events. The dance with Alex had been a moment of

unexpected confrontation with her past, leaving her contemplative and slightly disoriented.

She mulled over Desmond’s words and intentions, realizing the complexity of the emotions that swirled

around her. It was a web of past connections, present encounters, and future possibilities–a nexus she

was still navigating.

As the night wore on, the boundaries between dream and reality, past and present, seemed to blur, not

just for Alex but for Emma as well. The masquerade ball, intended as a night of carefree revelry, had

instead become a stage for introspection and unspoken truths. It was a reminder that behind every

mask lay a story, every dance a history, and in every dream, a sliver of reality waiting to be

acknowledged.

choes of the