-Asaraiah Montova-
I knew he was gone before I opened my eyes. The shed was empty. Cold. Silent There was no warmth from his body near mine, no shadow moving in the corners, no quiet breaths like the ones I had memorized the night before He was just... gone. I didn’t even know his name. And I let him kiss me. I let him see my—no, I was only showing him my scars. That’s all. Nothing more. Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed outside. I jolted up Was it him? Did he come back? The door slammed open. A blur of a maid’s uniform flashed in before the face revealed itself. “Afsana.” Her cheeks were flushed, hair sticking to her temples from sweat. “My lady—Asa—you have to return home now. The Montovas are back, and it's only minutes before they start searching for you.” Panic struck me like a whip. I was strong enough to run now. Afsana and I bolted through the back entrance, slipping through the servant halls and the kitchen corridors. I took a breath at the threshold, steeling myself. And then I stepped out. The main room hit me like a punch. It was too bright, too pristine, like nothing had ever happened. The mirror was replaced. Same position. Same weapon, waiting again. “Welcome, Father. Brothers. Sisters.” My voice was low. So was my head. “There she is,” my elder brother sneered, tilting my chin up with the edge of his gold hand fan. His eyes were calm. His Armani suit is crisp. I never got to wear Armani. Not even a dupe. Not even a hand-me-down. “Where were you?” he asked. “I was assisting the maids in the kitchen to prepare your dinner. I lost track of time.” One of my sisters scoffed. “Wow, are you trying to poison us now?” “I would never do such a thing.” “You had better not.” Then he handed me an envelope. My hands trembled as I broke the seal . You are cordially invited to the wedding of Asaraiah Montova and Derek Saunders. Wait. Derek Saunders. I had seen that name before…when I was filing Father’s documents. A seventy-year-old man. He owned seven drug rings. He trafficked women. A monster in human skin. “No,” I breathed. “Look at her,” my sister hissed. “She’s excited to leave us. To open her bastard legs.” I snapped . “No. I do not want to—” SLAM. The hand fan cracked across my skull. Blades cut into my neck. Blood trickled down my collar . I crumpled to the floor. Louboutins. My sister’s heel crushed down on my fingers. Bone scraped bone. “Ungrateful slut. Didn’t you always want what belonged to me? Now I don’t want this engagement, and you have the audacity to say no?” Her knee met my jaw. My teeth rattled. Blood pooled in my mouth. Pain returned like an old friend. The wounds from the last beating tore open. My blood stained their perfect white tile. “Ew. She’s leaking again. Get this trash out of here,” my other sister gagged. “Go and reflect on your stupidity and ungratefulness.” They didn’t expect it. The way my limbs twitched. The way my feet moved before my mind could. I ran. Through the halls. Past the guards. Out the gates. Into the woods. The shed. My lungs burned. My vision blurred. The air smelled like smoke and secrets and him. I slammed the door shut behind me and dropped to the floor. The mattress still bore his shape. Still stained with blood. My blood joined it now. My fingers fumbled, ripping off the fresh bandages. Afsana couldn’t help me today. She was in the kitchen. I couldn’t drag her into this. I pressed my palm to the mattress, feeling the ghost of his warmth . Tears burned. Maybe it was better to be sold. Better to die than marry that man. And then…I heard it. Engines. Footsteps. Voices. No. No no no— Did my brothers find this place? Please, no. My breath hitched. The air shifted. The door creaked open. And my eyes connected with the gold rimmed ones. Him. Dressed in black, a tailored suit hugging his broad frame, the collar crisp, his hair swept back like a god descending from war. Behind him stood men. Silent, deadly, in matching uniforms, holding weapons. He looked like a mafia. He stepped into the shed like he owned it. Like he owned me. “What the hell are you doing–what happened to you?” he asked, his voice flat, dangerous. I couldn’t breathe. “I—,” I choked out but my lips were red with my blood. “What are you doing here? I thought you left. I thought—” He raised a hand. Silenced me with one look. His golden-ringed eyes narrowed. “I was cleaning up loose ends,” he muttered. “Can’t have enemies knowing I even breathed here.” He knelt beside me. Close. Too close. “You’re a mess.” He muttered. He looked away. Almost guilty. Almost. “This mess saved your life ,”I said, clutching the wound on my neck.. “You said you owed me one.” His jaw clenched harder. He turned to his men. “Clear it.” They moved like shadows. Burning old rags. Erasing traces. Wiping memories. Muttering codes into headsets. I grabbed his arm. He froze. “I know my wish,” I said. He looked at me fully now. Eyes glowing. Dangerous. Curious. I didn’t know his name. Still didn’t. But maybe the devil I’d kissed was better than the devil my father chose. “Take responsibility for me. Marry me.” The room seemed to stop. He blinked. His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. Not cruel, not mocking—interested. Like I had just given him something worth tasting. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Ruby," he said. “I know enough,” I replied, steady now. “You’re not seventy. You don’t smell like rot. And I won’t be a burden.” He laughed. Once. Dark and low. He brushed his knuckles beneath my chin. Then leaned in. His lips found mine again. This time tasting blood. “Then pack your things, my little bride.” My breath hitched. “You’re mine now.”— ASARAIAH KAINE —The morning after felt wrong.The mansion was too neat, too polished, like someone had scrubbed the blood out of it overnight even if no blood had been spilled. Shadows still clung to the corners, heavy as secrets, and the silence was the kind that pressed against your ears until you wanted to scream just to break it.Malrik was gone. I knew before I even asked. His absence was a weight the house carried, an emptiness too deliberate to be coincidence.“Business,” Afsana muttered when I pressed her. Nothing more.Business. That could mean anything. A deal. A body. A war.I tried not to think about it.Instead, I painted.The new paints Leina had ordered waited on my desk, unopened tubs of color bright and too clean. I dipped my brush into them anyway, dragging lines across the canvas until the shapes turned restless. Gold bleeding into black. Light trying and failing to push through shadow. My hand shook more than it should have, but I didn’t stop.“You’re going to s
– MALRIK KAINE -I knew before the door opened.The hum of voices carried down the hall, Calla’s bright laugh pitched too loud, Leina’s sharp hiss cutting underneath it. The mansion was rarely that alive unless someone was stirring trouble.And trouble in my house meant her.I stepped inside.Asaraiah sat frozen on the couch, Calla practically pressed to her side, phone glowing between them. Leina stood stiff-backed by the window, Liya hovering small in the corner, Afsana near the shelves like she wanted to burn the phone out of Calla’s hand.But none of them mattered.She did.My wife.Head bowed, shoulders taut, fingers white-knuckled in her lap. Her heartbeat was the only sound I cared about, frantic and uneven, calling me like a drum.“Leave us,” I said.Calla opened her mouth. “But—”“Now.”The word hit like gunfire.Leina didn’t hesitate—she tugged Calla by the wrist, ignoring her protests. Liya trailed after them without a sound. Afsana lingered, eyes on me, chin lifted like sh
-ASARAIAH KAINE-The house was still too quiet.After last night, I expected whispers. Doors slamming. Something. But the Kaine mansion only hummed in its own silence, polished and sharp like it had secrets buried under every tile.I sat cross-legged on the couch in the library, journal open across my lap, but my pen hovered uselessly. I couldn’t write it down. Not the sketches I saw in his study. Not the way the woman’s face on every canvas looked like mine. Not the way Malrik’s voice wrapped around me like smoke when he told me to stay out.Every time I closed my eyes, I swore I heard his scream again, that raw, guttural sound tearing through the walls.I didn’t know what was worse. That I wanted to run from it. Or that I wanted to run to it.Leina and liya pushed the new paint tubs I had ordered for my new work. “Asaraiah!”The library doors banged open so fast I nearly dropped the journal. Calla barreled in, her phone clutched in one hand, her curls bouncing wildly. Behind her, L
-MALRIK KAINE- The first thing I felt was blood.Not the warmth of it, not even the scent—it was the weight. Heavy. Metallic. It clung to my hands like oil, coating the ridges of my palms, dripping between my fingers. No matter how hard I scrubbed, it stayed.Her scream tore through me.Not Asa’s. Hers.Ruby eyes wide, lips forming my name in a broken plea as the blade sank. My blade.I hadn’t meant to do it. That was the lie I told myself, anyway. But hunger didn’t care for intention. Hunger devoured. Hunger ripped apart the only thing that had ever mattered, and left me standing over her corpse with steel in my hand and blood down my throat.The curse was born in that moment. A punishment that never let me forget.I jolted awake in my bed, chest heaving, sheets twisted around me like restraints. The scream still echoed—but it wasn’t hers anymore. It was mine.I dragged a hand over my face. Wet. My own sweat, cold as ice. My jaw ached from clenching too tight. My throat burned, raw
– ASARAIAH KAINE –The morning after felt worse.Not because I hadn’t slept, God knew I’d tossed and turned for hours, but because the house itself seemed restless. Like it had absorbed my questions and now breathed them back into me with every creak of its walls. The mansion was too clean, too polished, too still, as if it had been designed to make me feel small.I pulled my robe tighter, stepping down the staircase slowly, eyes darting to the shadows at the edges of the hall. The night replayed in my head, the sound of claws against stone, Malrik appearing behind me like smoke, those golden eyes flickering in the dark.I swore my reflection in the gilt-framed mirror at the landing shimmered. Just for a second. My hair glowed deeper, my eyes glinted unnaturally.I blinked. It was gone.“Madam?”I nearly jumped out of my skin. Leina stood a few steps down, holding up two hangers. One was a black silk blouse with trousers. The other, a pale sundress with lace sleeves. Her expression wa
-ASARAIAH KAINE- The house felt different now. Like I’d peeled back a curtain and glimpsed something I wasn’t meant to see. Malrik didn’t speak of last night. Not when he carried me to bed. Not when he pulled the sheets over me like I was fragile glass. Not when I caught him staring at my cheek, where Selene’s cut had been, as if daring me to ask the question I wasn’t ready to ask. And now, morning light spilled across the marble halls, making everything too bright, too sharp. I wrapped my arms around myself as I padded down the staircase, trying to convince myself that nothing was wrong. That last night was just… adrenaline. That I hadn’t felt his tongue close a wound. That the mark hadn’t just vanished overnight. That I wasn’t imagining the way my own reflection didn’t look human anymore. I pressed harder on the banister, my nails digging into polished wood. “Madam, what do you want to wear today?” Leina asked as she leaned against me with outfit options sprawled on the bed.