LOGINHis fingers teased between my thighs, slow and cruel, circling my swollen clit until I was shaking and dripping for him. Lucian Draven stares down at me with dark, hungry eyes, his breath hot against my ear. “Beg for it, little wife,” he growls, pushing two thick fingers inside me only to stop again, leaving me on the edge of release. He’s been torturing me like this for weeks, bringing me to the brink, then pulling away just to watch me break. I was betrayed by the man I loved and sold by my own family to marry the devil himself. Now I’m trapped in his world, forced to sleep in his mansion while he treats me like his personal plaything. He hates me. He owns me. And the worst part? My body craves every filthy, possessive touch from the ruthless man I should despise. But as deadly family secrets begin to surface, I discover our twisted connection runs far deeper than I ever imagined… and the forbidden heat between us might destroy us both…
View MoreHow did it all happen? It started on the day I was meant to meet my boyfriend.
I hummed along to the silly love song Ethan had sent me that morning as I climbed the stairs. My feet were killing me after pulling a double shift at the café, but the ache didn’t matter. Ethan had promised he’d be waiting when I got home. For the first time in weeks, I felt light. Wanted.
The house was quiet when I stepped inside, which wasn’t unusual. My step mom, Isodora and step sister, Natalia were probably out shopping again, and Father was likely still at the office. I kicked off my shoes by the door and headed straight for my bedroom, a small smile tugging at my lips. Maybe tonight we could order takeout and watch that movie he kept talking about. Normal couple stuff. The kind of normal I craved.
I pushed the door open without knocking.
The first thing I heard was moaning. Loud. Breathless. Familiar.
My brain froze.
Ethan was on my bed, hips moving between Natalia’s spread legs. Her hair spilled across my pillow like she owned it. One of her hands gripped his back, nails digging in, while the other clutched the sheets. They were so into it they didn’t notice me at first.
Then Ethan glanced over.
He didn’t stop.
He slowed down, sure, but he kept thrusting into her, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “Shit, Rory,” he panted, voice rough. “You’re home early.”
Natalia turned her head and laughed. Actually laughed. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist and arched up to meet him. “Oh, don’t stop on her account, baby. Let her see how it’s done. Poor little Aurora never could keep a man satisfied anyway.”
The shopping bags slipped from my fingers and hit the floor. Something inside my chest cracked wide open. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. All I could do was stand there, staring at the only person I thought truly loved me fucking my stepsister in the bed where he used to hold me.
“Why?” The word came out small.
Ethan finally pulled out, not even bothering to cover himself properly. He sat, still breathing hard. “Look, Rory… it’s not what you think.”
Natalia snorted, stretching lazily like a cat. “It’s exactly what she thinks. We’ve been doing this for months. You really believed he loved you? Cute.”
Tears burned my eyes. I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something. Instead, I just turned around and ran.
I didn’t stop until I reached the old garden shed at the far end of the house. I collapsed on the floor. My knees hit the concrete hard, but the pain didn’t register. All I could feel was the image of them burned into my brain, Ethan’s face, Natalia’s smirk, the way they didn’t even care that I saw.
Sobs tore out of me. Ugly, choking sounds that made my whole body shake. I pressed my forehead against my knees and cried until my throat felt dry.
Why did it have to be my room? Why did they have to let me see? The way Natalia had laughed… like she wanted me to watch. Like it was part of the fun.
Footsteps approached outside. The shed door opened slowly. Evelyn stepped in, her maid uniform slightly wrinkled from the day’s work. She took one look at me and closed the door behind her. Without a word, she lowered herself onto the floor beside me, ignoring the dust on her clothes. She pulled my head onto her shoulder the way she had done a hundred times before, ever since I was a little girl with scraped knees.
I buried my face in her neck and cried harder.
“He said he loved me,” I gasped between sobs. “He told me I was beautiful. That I was enough. Why would he do this? Why in my room, Evelyn? They didn’t even stop. They just… kept going.”
Evelyn’s arms tightened around me. Her hand stroked my hair in slow, soothing motions. “Because they’re cruel, Aurora. Some people get pleasure from watching others break. Especially when they think they’re better than you.”
I clutched her uniform like it was the only solid thing left in my world. “I thought he was different. After everything with Mom dying and Isadora changing and Natalia always hating me… he was supposed to be my one good thing. Now even that’s gone.”
She was quiet for a long moment, just holding me while I fell apart.
“You deserve better than him,” she said finally, her voice low and steady. “You’ve always deserved better. Don’t let their poison make you think otherwise.”
I pulled back slightly to look at her. Evelyn’s kind eyes were filled with something deeper than sympathy, something like fierce protectiveness. She wiped the tears from my cheeks with her thumbs.
“How long has this been going on?” I whispered.
“Months, from what I’ve seen,” she admitted gently. “I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
We sat there in the shed for what felt like hours. Evelyn didn’t rush me. She just stayed, rubbing my back, letting me cry until there were no tears left.
Eventually, she helped me stand and brushed the dust off my dress.
“Let’s get you cleaned up before they notice you’re gone,” she said. “I’ll sneak some warm soup to your room later. You don’t have to face them tonight if you don’t want to.”
I nodded numbly. As we walked back toward the house through the garden, I felt completely empty. The necklace my mother left me felt heavy against my chest.
Everything I thought I had, love, security, a place where I belonged had just been ripped away in the most humiliating way possible.
And deep down, I had this sick feeling that this was only the beginning.
That the people who were supposed to be my family still had so much more pain waiting for me.
I ended the call and stared at my phone for a moment. Evelyn’s words kept echoing. Things still coming. Don’t give him your whole heart. I tossed the phone onto the bed and dragged my suitcase out of the closet.I folded sweaters, then unfolded them again, my hands moving on autopilot. Geneva. Two nights. I picked up a black coat, then put it back. Lucian had almost told me what to wear earlier. The memory made my lips twitch despite everything.A knock sounded on my door.“Come in,” I said.Lucian stepped inside, already in a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He looked at the open suitcase, then at me.“You’re actually packing without burning the place down,” he said. “I’m impressed.”“Don’t get used to it.” I held up two pairs of boots. “Which ones make me look less like your property?”He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Both do. But the ones on the left are better for walking if we end up outside.”I raised an eyebrow. “We?”“I adjusted the schedule.” He sai
Aurora's POVThe meeting was on the fourteenth floor of a building whose name I didn't catch because Lucian hadn't told me where we were going, only that I needed to look presentable and be quiet.His exact words. Be quiet, Aurora..The room was full of men in expensive suits who all stood when Lucian walked in, which told me everything I needed to know about the kind of power he carried without announcing it. He introduced me once, "my wife" and after that I ceased to exist as a person and became a decorative fixture he occasionally glanced at to confirm I was still in the correct position.I sat. I smiled. I watched him work.And God, he was good at it.I hated how much I was paying attention.Then a grey-haired man looked at me."Aurora." Too familiar. "Lucian really is something, isn't he. You must be very proud."Before I could open my mouth, Lucian's hand was on my thigh under the table.Not moving. Just there. A weight that said don't and mine in the same breath."She is," Luci
Aurora's POVHe acted like it hadn't happened.That was the first thing I noticed the next morning, the way he sat across the breakfast table with his coffee, phone, carefully assembled distance and looked at me the way he might look at a piece of furniture he was faintly surprised to find still in the room.No acknowledgment. No reference. Nothing in his expression that admitted the previous evening had occurred at all.I poured my coffee and sat down and decided, quietly, that I was not going to be the one to bring it up. If Lucian wanted to pretend he hadn't kissed me twelve hours ago, that was his decision to make and his loss to carry. I had my own dignity and I intended to keep it.I lasted approximately four minutes."Are we not going to talk about last night," I said.He turned a page on whatever he was reading. "What about it?""What about it," I repeated. Flatly."We had a moment," he said. "It happened. It doesn't need to be discussed at breakfast."Something hot moved thro
Aurora's POVThe house had a rhythm now and I had learned to move inside it.Mornings were mine. I woke before Lucian most days or before he emerged from the study and I had the kitchen to myself for an hour with coffee.Afternoons belonged to whatever work Lucian was doing behind closed doors, which I had stopped trying to map precisely. I understood that the empire Evelyn had referenced was not the Draven name, not Sebastian's carefully constructed legacy, but something Lucian had built independently and quietly over the better part of a decade. Lucian Draven had a specific yield and it was rarely the thing you actually wanted.Evenings we spent in my same room.On the sixth evening, I was on the sitting room floor with my sketchbook."You're holding the pencil wrong," he said.I turned around. He was looking at my hand, not my drawing."I've been drawing since I was eight," I said."I know. You're still holding it wrong." He pointed out. "You grip too hard. See how your knuckles ar
The call came on a Thursday.I was in the middle of folding laundry… something the mansion staff would have done without being asked, but I needed something to do with my hands that morning. The folding helped. The repetition of it. Shirt, sleeve, sleeve, fold. Shirt, sleeve, sleeve, fold. A rhythm
The next few days felt heavier. Lucian’s rules hung over everything like a dark cloud. One afternoon, I was reading in the living room when he came home earlier than usual. He dropped a stack of papers on the coffee table and looked at me.“Review these and sign where marked,” he said. “They’re ju
I woke up to soft morning light through the curtains. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the familiar weight of another day in this quiet mansion. Then it hit me. Today was my birthday. Twenty-two.I sat up slowly and checked the date on the small clock by the bed. Yes.
The staircase incident stayed with me all afternoon. Every time I moved, the memory sent a confusing rush through me. I tried to read in the library, but the words blurred on the page. I tried walking in the garden, but my mind kept drifting back to the heat of his body behind mine and the rough ed






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