LOGINThat night, I stayed with Priscilla, crashing at her place while I figured out my own apartment. But sleep refused to come. My mind kept replaying every moment the way Sebastian looked at me, his dangerous gaze lingering like it had burned into my very spine. I had done everything they asked at the club, but no one could have prepared me for the storm of emotions swirling inside me.
By morning, I dragged myself to work at the coffee shop. The smell of fresh espresso did nothing to calm my restless mind. Priscilla chattered as usual, trying to fill the air with mundane stories, but I barely heard her. My thoughts kept cycling back to him, his touch, the heat of his stare, even the memory of that fleeting kiss. Then, the small TV behind the counter caught my attention. CBS was reporting live: the Sinclair family had returned to town. Brothers? My heart skipped a beat. I thought Sebastian was the only son and heir. Nobody had ever seen him up close like I had like I had. And now they were back, right as my life was already spiraling out of control. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. A message flashed across the screen: "Don’t forget. You’re arranged to marry the Sinclair family. Your future husband will be back soon." I froze, staring at the words as if they were flames, scorching my brain.will be back soon here? What does my father mean? Sebastian is in the country already so who was my father talking about? I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t. Instead, I scrolled through the news, desperate for answers, trying to prepare myself for whatever I was walking into. Later that day, my sister Elisa showed up at the coffee shop, flanked by her friends. She moved casually, smiling at customers, telling them how I was being sold to marry an old man but I could sense the tension underneath. She had that look, the one that said she knew more than she should. She chatted away, but all I could think about was the message and the storm waiting for me outside. Trying to distract myself, I took out the trash and headed to the backyard. That’s when I saw a black BMW parked across the street, windows slightly tinted. My stomach dropped. My breath caught. And then… I saw him. Sebastian. Staring right at me. I froze, my hands trembling, unable to move. Priscilla came up behind me, her eyes widening when she realized who it was. She shook me gently. “Celestia… what’s happening?” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My heart pounded in my chest as Sebastian’s gaze didn’t waver. He wasn’t just looking, he was studying, calculating, like he already knew every secret I was trying to hide. Priscilla’s voice shook me out of my paralysis. “What is he looking for? What’s happening? You said nothing happened that night… It was just a performance. Why is he here? Why is he staring at you like that?” I didn’t know. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to. All I knew was that from that moment, nothing would ever be the same. Later that night, Priscilla and I grabbed some drinks to calm our nerves and headed toward the club. The neon lights and the bass thumping from the entrance made my chest tighten with anticipation and dread all at once. As soon as I got inside, the manager called me over, his face serious. “Celestia,” he said, “you’re not performing on the main stage anymore.” I blinked, panic creeping in. “What? Why? Don’t fire me!” He shook his head quickly. “No, no, you’re not getting fired. You’re performing for someone special. A private VVIP performance for Celestia’s single.” I hesitated, my heart racing. “Performing… for him?” “Yes,” the manager said, leaning closer. “He’s offering $30,000 for this. I know you really need the money, Celestia, for your mom’s treatment. This is a chance. Just… do it. You’ll make the money you need, and nothing else will change.” I swallowed hard. He was right. I needed that money desperately. I agreed. I dressed quickly, each piece of my outfit feeling heavier with every thought of what I was about to do. When I arrived at the VVIP lounge, the air was charged. He was already there, waiting. And then he made the request that froze me in place. “Take off your mask while you perform for me,” he said, his voice low, commanding, yet teasing. I shook my head immediately. “I don’t take off my mask for any customer,” I said firmly. He leaned back, a dangerous smirk tugging at his lips. “You really think I don’t know who you are? I know who you are, Celestia. I just want you to take it off for me while you perform. You’ll see no one else needs to know.” I hesitated. My mask wasn’t just part of the performance it was my shield, my armor. Without it, I was exposed. And yet, there was something in his voice that made me want to obey, to let go, even just a little. I didn’t know who I would be without it. I shook my head, my resolve firm. “I’m not taking off my mask,” I said, voice steady despite the heat curling in my chest. He stepped closer, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. His presence was overwhelming, every inch of him radiating control and danger. He smiled a slow, dangerous smile that sent shivers down my spine. “There’s something addictive about your scent,” he murmured, his voice low and almost intimate. “Ever since that night, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind… and now, you’re mine.” My heart slammed against my ribs. His words weren’t just possessive; they were a warning, a promise, and a threat all at once. I wanted to run, to hide behind my mask, to pretend none of this was real. But his eyes held me, unrelenting, pulling me into a world I didn’t know I wanted to enter. Every instinct screamed to resist, yet a dangerous thrill ran through me, a mix of fear, desire, and something else I couldn’t name.The ink on the marriage certificate was dry, and with it, Celestia’s fate was sealed.The reception had been a blur of flashing cameras, strained smiles, and congratulations that felt like death sentences. By midnight, Marco had driven her to his private estate a sprawling, limestone fortress tucked away from the city, surrounded by towering iron gates and dense rows of black pines. It wasn't a home; it was a secure compound meant to keep people out, or keep them in.As soon as the heavy front doors clicked shut behind them, the polite facade Marco had worn all evening vanished. He loosened his silk tie, tossing it onto a marble console table without looking at her. The silence of the massive house settled over them immediately, heavy and freezing."Let us get one thing straight, Celestia," Marco said, his voice flat and devoid of any warmth. He turned to face her, his dark eyes cold as flint. "This marriage is a business transaction. Nothing more. Your family gets their financial lif
The heavy silk of the wedding dress felt less like a garment and more like a gilded shroud.Celestia sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the floor-length mirror. The lace sleeves clung tightly to her arms, and the massive tulle skirt billowed around her, pinning her to the mattress under its sheer weight. On the mahogany nightstand, her phone vibrated against the wood for the twentieth time that morning.Sebastian.The screen flashed his name, a lifeline she desperately wanted to reach for. But Don’s parting words from two weeks ago remained burned into her mind, cold and precise: I will strip him of his inheritance and exile him so far from this city he will become a ghost.A single tear cut through the flawless makeup the stylists had spent three hours perfecting. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her hands to stay clamped in her lap. Forcing him away was the only weapon she had left to protect him. If she answered, if she heard the desperate, volatile edge in his voice
The heavy scent of Sebastian’s skin and the sharp tang of spilled beer eventually faded from her skin, replaced by the clinical, suffocating aroma of expensive floral arrangements and floor polish. Two weeks had passed since that reckless afternoon in the locked room upstairs. Two weeks of heavy silences, stolen glances across crowded rooms, and the relentless, suffocating march of high-society expectations. Now, the reality of her situation sat heavily on the mahogany desk in her shared apartment with her friend pricellia. Engraved heavy cardstock rested between Celestia’s trembling fingers. The elegant gold calligraphy practically screamed its finality: The marriage of Celestia to Marco Sinclair. First Saturday of October. The date was set. There was no rolling it back, no ignoring the transactional alliance that bound her family’s fading legacy to the Sinclair empire. She was the lamb being led to the slaughter, and the date of the execution had officially been stamped. The heav
The heavy, erratic sound of their breathing gradually replaced the frantic creaking of the wooden table, filling the small, shadowed room with the thick atmosphere of the aftermath. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Sebastian remained buried deep inside her, his forehead resting against the curve of her collarbone, his broad chest rising and falling in ragged heaves that pressed heavily against her own chest. The heat radiating between their slick, intertwined bodies contrasted sharply with the cool, persistent draft sweeping in from the window, chilling the spilled beer that puddled near her hip and soaked further into the hem of her rucked-up dress.Slowly, the intense fog of the climax began to clear, bringing the immediate surroundings back into sharp focus. The muffled bass from the party downstairs thumped rhythmically through the floorboards, a constant, low-frequency reminder of the world outside this locked door. The vibrations seemed to echo the fading pulse of her o
. Sebastian didn't let her feet touch the ground for long. His arms hooked under her thighs, cum-smeared cock still half-hard and twitching as he dragged her across the short distance to the sturdy wooden side table shoved against the far wall, its surface cluttered with empty bottles and a forgotten ashtray that clattered to the floor. The wood scraped her ass as he hoisted her onto it roughly, the edge biting into her skin with a sharp sting that made her hiss, her dress rucked up around her waist like a useless belt. Bottles tipped and rolled off with dull thuds, the acrid spill of stale beer soaking into the hem, but she didn't care her body hummed from the aftershocks, pussy still fluttering, leaking their combined mess onto the table's scarred surface. "Fuck, look at you," he rasped, voice gravelly with renewed hunger, eyes locked on the creamy trails of cum dripping from her swollen folds. He grabbed her ankles, yanking her legs up and apart, draping them over his broad shoul
Celestia povI didn’t go home immediately. I should have.But after everything that happened inside that house… I couldn’t just walk away like it didn’t matter. Angel. My stepsister.Standing beside Sebastian’s father like she belonged there. Like she had earned it.Like she hadn’t just stepped into something dangerous without looking back.I stayed outside the estate longer than I planned.Watching people leave.Watching the lights slowly dim.Trying to understand how everything had changed so quickly.“Still here?”I turned. Angel. Of course.She walked toward me slowly, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. For a second, neither of us spoke.We just looked at each other.“You didn’t look surprised,” I said. “I wasn’t,” she replied.“That makes one of us.”She stopped a few steps away.“You always underestimate people.”I let out a quiet breath.“No. I just didn’t expect you to do something like this.”“Why not?” I stared at her. “Because you know what this world is like.”
Celestia “You’ve become important.” Sebastian’s words stayed with me long after he left. Important. The word didn’t feel like power. It felt like danger. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone. My thoughts were everywhere—Sebastian, the men watching me, the stranger who appr
CelestiaSleep didn’t come easily that night.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same moment again and again.Sebastian standing in front of me.The gun. The flash.The bullet tore through his side.I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling of my tiny apartment. The dim streetlight outsid
Weeks had passed since I last saw Sebastian. He hadn’t come around the club, and according to the manager, the same mysterious man hadn’t reached out. No messages, no calls, nothing. I didn’t know what was happening in the city, but I was aware of the danger. Sebastian’s family the Sinclair were no
I have always known that I was hated. I have always known that my stepmother had the final says in the house. But this This was entirely different. I stood there, hands clenched at my side as my father, stepmother and sister looked at me like I was trash. Like I was nothing. Like they weren't t







