LOGINMiguel stood over her, breathing hard, eyes dark with fury and lust. Camille scrambled backward on the bed, but he was faster. He unbuckled his belt with quick, angry movements and grabbed her wrists. She fought him, twisting and kicking, but he pinned her down with his weight.“No— Miguel, please!” she begged, voice breaking. “Don’t do this. I’m sorry…just stop!”He ignored her completely. He forced her arms above her head and wrapped the belt tightly around her wrists, buckling it to the sturdy wooden bed stand. The leather dug into her skin as she pulled desperately against it, the metal clinking loudly.Miguel got off the bed and walked to a side door she hadn’t noticed before. He opened it, revealing a hidden room bathed in low blue lighting. The walls were lined with shelves of sex toys, restraints, whips, paddles, and other equipment… a private, fully equipped space designed for his darkest desires.He disappeared inside for a moment and returned holding a thick, realistic d
Roderick sat on the edge of his king-sized bed in the master suite of the penthouse, the city lights twinkling far below the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was past 7:30 PM, and the exhaustion from the day weighed heavily on his shoulders. His laptop was open on the bedside table when a notification from Ten popped up.He clicked it open. The screen filled with several photos and a short video clip. Conrad was captured at one of the southern seaports, speaking closely with a group of rough-looking merchants near their boats.Roderick’s jaw tightened as he watched the footage. Ten’s call came through immediately after.He answered on the first ring. “What’s the context of this video?”Ten’s voice was steady on the other end. “I wasn’t able to get the full conversation. Conrad and the merchants went into one of the small lodging houses at the port right after. But there’s no doubt about it — Conrad is one of Miguel’s most trusted men. He’s been lingering around that area lately but hasn
Camille paced the length of the lavish bedroom like a caged predator, her bare feet silent on the thick Persian rug. Every step she took was sharp, agitated, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as if she could physically fight the walls closing in around her.‘How did I let this happen?’ The thought burned through her mind like acid. She, Camille Lockhart — the woman who had clawed her way from nothing to build C&A Sardines into a powerhouse — felt weak. Pathetic. The frustration clawed at her chest until she wanted to scream. She stopped at the window, yanking the heavy velvet curtain aside. Nothing but endless dark forest stared back at her. Trees so thick they swallowed the moonlight. There were no lights, no roads, no hope.She truly was in the middle of nowhere. The realization settled like lead in her stomach. Even if she screamed until her throat bled, no one would hear. Even if she ran, how far could she get before he caught her? The isolation was suffocating.
The black SUV glided to a smooth stop outside La Belle Époque, one of Crown City’s most elegant restaurants. Golden hour light bathed the stone façade, and soft piano music drifted faintly from inside. Roderick killed the engine and stepped out, adjusting his sleeves before opening the back door.Adrian and Aria tumbled out, still buzzing with leftover energy from their afternoon at the park. Adrian’s shirt had a grass stain on the sleeve, and Aria’s hair was slightly windswept. Both kids looked happy but tired.“Come on,” Roderick said, offering each of them a hand. “Let’s get something good to eat.”The hostess recognized him immediately and led them to a quiet corner booth with a view of the small garden patio. Candles flickered on the table. Roderick helped the children settle in, then took his own seat across from them.Menus were brought. Adrian’s eyes widened at the pictures. “I want the cheesy pasta!”Aria pointed at the same page. “Me too, but with the red sauce. Not the whi
Vanessa’s hands trembled slightly as she reached into her designer bag and pulled out her chequebook. The leather felt slippery against her sweaty palms. She flipped it open with more force than necessary, the pages crackling loudly in the quiet corner of the coffee shop. Dante watched her with that smug, knowing look that made her stomach twist with hatred.She uncapped her pen and began writing, the numbers coming out sharper than she intended. ‘I can’t let this truth come out. Not after all these years. Not when I’ve built everything on top of that grave.’ Her mind raced as the pen scratched against the paper.‘Yes… it’s true. I had Claire killed.’ The memory still burned, even after so many years. Claire had discovered the affair — the secret nights, the pregnancy, the existence of Miguel. Instead of staying quiet like a proper wife should, Claire had turned vicious. She insulted Vanessa in private and public, called her a whore, a gold-digging slut who spread her legs for a m
Roderick’s car tore through the gates of the Valdez estate and came to a sharp stop in the middle of the courtyard. Gravel sprayed under the tires. He stepped out before the vehicle had fully settled, his presence dark and menacing.Vanessa was already by her silver Mercedes, keys in hand, one foot inside the open door. She looked up, startled, and quickly tried to compose herself.Roderick marched straight toward her, fists clenched at his sides.“Where the fuck is Miguel?” he demanded, voice low and dangerous.Vanessa straightened her back. “I don’t know, Roderick. I haven’t seen him.”He stopped just a foot away from her, eyes blazing with fury. “You just spoke to him on the phone and you’re going to stand here and lie to my fucking face? Stop lying, Vanessa. Tell me where he is right now!”“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied in a steady voice but her fingers tightened on the car door. “I really don’t—”Roderick lost it.His hand shot forward and clamped around h
Roderick was done for the day. It was already 5:30 pm. He had been supposed to leave much earlier, but he had spent the last half the time sitting at his desk, staring at his phone, trying to summon the courage to call Camille. Every time he picked it up, his thumb hovered over her name, and the c
Camille dragged herself into her bedroom, shoulders heavy from the long, stressful day. The meeting with the wholesalers had drained her completely. The demand for glass containers was turning into a logistical nightmare — overtime for the workers, new machines that weren’t fully ready, and the co
Roderick’s black Bentley rolled smoothly into the villa’s courtyard. The chauffeur quickly stepped out and opened the door for him. Roderick emerged, adjusting his cufflinks, still carrying the faint scent of Taylor’s perfume on his skin. He expected silence and order, the way things always were.
Camille Lockhart wondered, not for the first time, what a truly married couple looked like. Did the wife wake up to warm arms and softer kisses? Did the husband look at her like she was the only woman breathing on earth? Or was marriage simply this — two strangers sharing the same expensive cage, b







