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Chapter 12 — Old Books
publish date:
2026-07-20 17:15:50
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My Sex Slave is an Heiress Chapter 13 — Fragments of Gold
BelaTHE PENTHOUSE was a prison made of glass and polished marble, but the guest bedroom’s walk-in closet was the one place where the air felt still.I spent the late afternoon organizing the clothes Sebastian had provided—stiff silk blouses, tailored trousers, and soft cashmere knits.It was a golden cage, impeccably tailored to keep me visible, managed, and controlled. But behind a row of heavy winter coats, near the back of a cedar drawer that looked as though it hadn't been fully cleared out since the penthouse was built, my fingers caught on something cold and metallic.I pulled my hand back, frowning.Reaching deeper into the dark corner, my fingertips brushed against a small, velvet-lined wooden box. It was unadorned, the lacquer chipped at the edges.My chest tightened with a sudden, unexplainable prickle of dread as I lifted it into the dim closet light.I opened the latch.Inside lay a delicate gold chain, its tiny links catching the light like spun thread. Suspended from th
My Sex Slave is an Heiress Chapter 13 — The Echoes We Carry
SebTHE ASH from the fireplace had been cold for three years, but the stench of it still lived in the back of my throat.I sat at my desk, the glow of the desk lamp cutting a sharp arc across the newly unsealed arson diagrams. The local authorities had written it off within forty-eight hours: A faulty generator. An unfortunate casualty of territory crossfire. A tidy conclusion meant to satisfy the syndicates and keep the peace in the north.But the forensics didn't align. The burn patterns on the lower load-bearing pillars of the Dela Costa estate—and later, the identical incendiary marks left on the east wing of the Ricaforte estate three years after we absorbed her line—showed accelerant signatures that didn't match standard fuel.“These bastards…” I muttered under my breath as I read the documents over and over again comparing each details to another.Someone had used a hi
My Sex Slave is an Heiress Chapter 12 — Old Books
BelaTHE SCENT of chlorine and wet stone usually cleared my head, but today the rooftop pool area felt like another interrogation room.I stood by the edge of the deep blue water, the midday heat doing nothing to melt the chill that had settled deep inside my bones since last night. My body still ached with the memory of Sebastian’s touch, a reminder of how easily he could shatter my defenses when fear and adrenaline stripped away my armor.He would have executed them right there on the tiles, I thought, my gaze fixing on the ripples in the blue water. If I hadn't been standing in the crossfire, he wouldn't have just stopped them. He would have erased them from existence.The image of his arrival was burned into the back of my eyelids. I had fought off those men with everything I had—broken stone, elbows, raw survival instinct.But the moment Sebastian stepped out onto that terrace, the atmosphere didn't just shift—it shattered.It wasn't the calm, calculated Don who had pulled that t
My Sex Slave is an Heiress Chapter 11 - Mine
SebTHE BLOOD on the marble floor of the rooftop corridor wasn’t mine.I stood at the top of the glass-enclosed stairwell, the heavy iron barrel of my weapon still warm against my palm.At my feet, three men from the Marcone syndicate lay groaning, their expensive suits torn and stained with crimson. They had breached the perimeter through a blind spot in the secondary elevator shaft, targeting the rooftop garden.They hadn’t come to kill. They had come to steal.They assumed the mysterious woman hidden in my penthouse was nothing more than a new mistress—a soft piece of leverage to use against the rising Ricaforte Don.They had underestimated exactly what she was to me.Bela was pressed against the glass wall behind me, her breathing a collection of sharp, ragged gasps. Her long, burgundy curls were wild, a few strands clinging to the damp skin of her forehead, her eyeglasses slightly crooked on her nose.She had fought them off with a broken piece of a stone planter before I arrived
My Sex Slave is an Heiress Chapter 10 — The Edge of the Sky
BelaTHE AIR on the rooftop terrace was crisper at night, stripped of the heavy, suffocating humidity that plagued the Milanese streets below.Up here, surrounded by the meticulously manicured hedges and stone planters of Sebastian’s private garden, I could almost pretend the world was empty.I leaned my forearms against the cold marble balustrade, tilting my head back to look at the stars. They were faint, nearly drowned out by the sprawling, electric glow of the city, but they were there.For three years, those stars had been my only constant.Three years.To the rest of the world, Belarina Dela Costa had ceased to exist in a violent, terrifying inferno that consumed her family’s legacy. I still remembered the blinding heat of that night, the roar of the explosion, and the sheer, paralyzing terror that had driven me to run rather than look back.When the smoke cleared, the syndicate had
My Sex Slave is an Heiress Chapter 9 — Still Running
SebTHE AMBER liquid in my glass didn’t take the edge off. Nothing did.I leaned my head against the high back of my leather chair, staring at the ceiling of my private study while the clock chimed three in the morning.My eyes burned, a heavy, gritty ache throbbing behind my temples. For three years, sleep had been an elusive luxury I couldn’t afford. Whenever I closed my eyes, the smell of burning gasoline and the deafening roar of that vehicle explosion filled my throat, waking me up in a cold, violent sweat.The syndicate thought I had spent the year solidifying my grip on the throne. They thought my ruthlessness was born from ambition.They didn't know about the locked filing cabinets behind my desk.I stood up, my joints stiff as I walked over to the safe, punching in the code. I pulled out the heavy, unlabeled leather binders and spread them across the mahogany wood under the dim lamp light.The contents were my true obsession.The official fire investigation reports from the l
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