Novel-novel oleh D.SUSI

‎Chapter Five‎‎By late afternoon, the house stirred with nervous energy. Servants rushed about, polishing cutlery until it gleamed, straightening tablecloths that already lay smooth, adjusting flowers that gave off a sweetness too sharp for the heaviness in the air. The corridors smelled faintly of wax and roses, though nothing could mask the unease that spread from room to room.‎Daniel’s family was coming for dinner.‎I stood by the guest room window as the sound of engines rose from the drive. Cars rolled in, glossy and dark, their reflections flashing against the stone pillars. Laughter carried ahead of the arrivals, voices rising bright and confident as though the evening were nothing but a celebration.‎One by one, they entered the house. His mother first, regal and sharp-eyed, followed by his father with his controlled stride. His brothers and their wives trailed behind, dressed in elegance, their smiles practiced for the photographs they knew would follow. And Elizabeth, of

‎Chapter Four‎The first light of morning filtered weakly through the curtains when the maid’s knock came.‎“Madam, breakfast is ready.”‎Her voice was soft, but I caught the hesitation, the pity that trailed after the words.‎I rose slowly, every limb heavy. My reflection in the glass was no better than the night before. My skin, pale and lifeless. My lips drained of color. The bottle of pills on the nightstand gleamed accusingly, its cap half open, waiting.‎Two pills already felt like chains around my throat, but I swallowed them dry anyway, forcing my body into motion.‎The corridor outside hummed with whispers. I caught them before the maids scattered.‎“Did you see? They moved her to the guest room. It is as good as exile.”‎“And Elizabeth… she slept in his chamber. The master did not hide it.”‎“Poor woman, imagine serving the mistress in your own house.”‎Their giggles, sharp and cruel, scattered like glass shattering.‎I descended the stairs. At the long mahogany table, Eliza

Chapter ThreeThe ride home was silent, except for the occasional hum of tires against the asphalt and Elizabeth’s laughter, soft and threaded with familiarity. She leaned into Daniel as though the seat beside me were empty, as though I were nothing more than a shadow carried along for the ride. Her perfume drifted back, cloying, filling the narrow space until it settled into my lungs.I pressed myself against the leather, staring out the window. The city lights streaked by in fractured blurs, each one a reminder of a world that kept moving even as mine stood still. My fingers curled into my dress until the fabric wrinkled beneath my grip. Every laugh from the front seat cracked through me like a whip, but Daniel never once glanced back.By the time the gates of the mansion swung open, dread pooled so heavy in my stomach that it felt like stone. The servants waited in two neat lines as we entered, their faces lowered in practiced politeness, yet their whispers ran quick and sharp thro

Chapter TwoThe world returned in fragments.First, the sterile scent of disinfectant.Then, the sharp sting of a light too bright against my eyelids.Voices floated above me, muffled and distorted, as though I were trapped beneath water.“She’s stable,” a man said softly. I caught the faint rustle of papers. “Weak… most likely stress-induced collapse. Her vitals are erratic, but she’ll recover with rest.”Stress. That word again. Always stress. Always my fault. Never anything more.I forced my eyes open. The ceiling glared down at me, plain, sterile, and endless. The rhythmic beeping of a monitor pulsed beside me, steady but unnerving.I turned my head slowly, the movement heavy, and found the doctor standing near the bed with a clipboard. His face carried the practiced calm of a man who had seen too many people break.“Mrs. Cobbs,” he said gently. “You need to avoid strain. Whatever situation you’re under, your body is telling you it cannot handle more. You must rest, or...”“I’ll b

(Ava's POV)‎‎The lights burned too bright. The music was too loud. The laughter stung like knives. And there I was, on my knees in front of my husband, begging him not to humiliate me.‎‎“Daniel, please,” I whispered, clutching his wrist, my nails biting into his skin as though I could anchor him to me. “Not here. Not like this.”‎‎His lips curled, not in pity but in that cruel smirk I had seen too many times behind closed doors. Tonight, he wanted the world to see it. He wanted them to watch me break.‎‎Around us, the glittering hall fell silent. I could hear the faint clink of a champagne glass being set down, the faint shuffle of expensive heels against marble. People were staring. They loved it. They lived for it. Ava Reynolds, wife of Daniel Cobbs, the billionaire everyone called untouchable, was on her knees, pleading like a beggar at a royal court.‎‎Daniel leaned down, close enough for only me to hear, though I knew he wanted me to repeat it aloud. “You should have thought ab

Chapter 5‎The bed wasn’t just a bed.‎It was a command. A silent order I couldn’t refuse.‎‎I climbed onto it slowly, my wrists still cuffed behind me, chest rising and falling with every breath that felt stolen. My heart pounded against my ribs like it was trying to break free. The silk robe slipped off my shoulders and pooled at my knees, leaving me bare, exposed, trembling.‎‎Damien stood at the foot of the bed, moving with maddening calm as he removed his jacket. His eyes never left mine. In that gaze was everything. Control, hunger, restraint coiled tight like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.‎‎“You don’t move unless I say,” he said, unbuttoning his cuffs with deliberate precision. “You don’t speak unless I ask. Do you understand?”‎‎I nodded, breath caught in my throat.‎‎His eyes narrowed slightly. “Say it.”‎‎“Yes… daddy,” I whispered.‎‎A flicker of approval passed through his features. He nodded once.‎‎Then he stepped forward. Slow, deliberate..

Chapter 4‎I woke up wrapped in silk sheets that didn’t belong to me.‎‎For a second, I didn’t move.‎‎I stared up at the smooth ceiling, watching the early morning sunlight filter through sheer curtains. The air smelled like cedarwood and something colder, sharper, like the man who owned this place.‎‎For a moment, I thought it was a dream. The kind that teases you with heat and power before the weight of reality yanks you back down.‎‎But when I shifted under the sheets and felt the soreness between my thighs, I knew it wasn’t.‎‎He hadn’t touched me last night.‎‎Not fully.‎‎But he had learned me.‎‎Watched me tremble from nothing but his voice. Pressed his fingers into the places that made me whimper without ever giving me release. He had made me beg. And when I finally shattered for him, he hadn’t even undone a single button on his shirt.‎‎He whispered, That’s rule one, Ivy. You cum when I say. Not before.‎‎Now it was morning, and everything was real.‎‎This was Day

Chapter 3‎I stared at the folder for a long time after Damien left.‎‎I didn’t touch it.‎‎I didn’t even breathe.‎‎It sat there on the edge of the desk like a loaded gun. Just a few pages of cold, clinical language offering more money than I’d ever seen… in exchange for my body. My silence. My submission.‎‎Thirty days.‎‎It didn’t sound like much. A month. Four weeks. Just over six hundred hours.‎‎But I knew better.‎‎Time didn’t move the same when someone else owned your body. It bent. Twisted. Hurt.‎‎And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.‎‎I took the folder home, buried deep in my bag like a sin I wasn’t ready to confess. I didn’t tell my brother. He was passed out again, shirtless on the couch, mumbling in his sleep about debts he’d never repay.‎‎I stood by the window for hours. Trying to remember the girl I used to be.‎‎Before the club. Before loosing the house. Before I stopped dreaming about anything but surviving.‎‎That girl would’ve said no.‎‎She w

I didn’t sleep that night. I couldn’t. Even after he said I should go back to my duties like nothing had happened. Even after I put my uniform back on with trembling fingers and slipped out of the suite like a ghost. My skin still felt the tension from where he had touched me. It was funny how my body responded to him. Shame curled up in my stomach like smoke. I should have felt humiliated. I should have been scared. But all I felt was the way his voice still echoed in my head. Come here. The way he said it made everything inside me come undone. I took a cold shower in the back dressing room, scrubbing until my skin turned red. The club had closed by then. Staff had gone. Lights dimmed. Silence stretched through the halls like a warning. I didn’t know what I was now. A waitress? A plaything? A mistake? It was almost dawn when I stepped out the back door, hoodie pulled over my damp hair, shoes squeaking with every step. The streets were nearly empty. I walked home with my arms wrapped

(Ivy's POV)‎Chapter 1The slap of my shoes against wet pavement echoed louder than the thunder overhead. Rain soaked me to the bone, cold rivulets crawling down my spine. My breath caught as I reached the back entrance of the club, fumbling with the rusted handle. My fingers shook, partly from the chill, mostly from panic. I was late. Again.‎The door creaked open and heat swallowed me whole. Liquor. Sweat. Expensive perfume. The scent of survival. Neon lights bled through the hallway as bass pounded from the club floor, steady and primal like a second heartbeat.‎“Ivy.”‎His voice cracked through the air.‎I turned to see my manager stalking toward me, eyes bloodshot, jaw tight.‎“Do you have a death wish,” he snapped, “or are you just stupid?”‎“I’m sorry,” I stammered, dripping on the floor. “The bus stalled, and...“‎“I don’t care. Get changed. Now. The boss is here. Private suite. High rollers. If you mess this up tonight, you’re gone.”‎My stomach twisted.‎Not because I was sc