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| 14 | Silent Rebellion

last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2025-07-25 04:33:30

The moon hangs in the night sky, a beautiful, luminous orb. The stars are hiding, but the moon...it's bright, almost ethereal.

I've learned to appreciate this sight, now that I can watch it from a bedroom window instead of perched atop a tree, constantly fearing discovery. It's strange—I like it.

But I feel guilty.

I feel guilty because I enjoy the things that I have been given because I was branded—literally—an “X” on my chest and taken as property by someone who has offered me things in excha
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  • I Am Mustafin   ⊰ 5 ⊱ A Life for a Life

    I watch through the cameras as Doctor Reid examines Ciana, hooking her to various monitors. Stefan had walked into my office earlier, reporting her complaints of pain, how she’d laid curled around her belly when he’d done his routine check. Now, she lays on her back, soon to be ready to deliver her son.Soon to be a mother.My attention drifts to another screen, where Alaki stands on the balcony. The morning sun catches her features, highlighting how unhappy she looks. I never used to watch her this closely, never felt the need to track her every movement. But then again, I never trusted her this little.Not since we got married, at least.The realization settles bitterly in my chest. Not even a year of marriage, and everything’s already falling apart.I study her reflection in the security feed, remembering how different things were just months ago. How she used to look at me like I was her salvation instead of her warden.Maybe if you’d been a better husband…The thought settles une

  • I Am Mustafin   ⊰ 4.5 ⊱ The Sins of a Kiss

    ⊰ Alaki ⊱ I lie in bed after Efrem leaves, watching sunlight crawl across silk sheets that still carry his scent. My body remembers every moment of last night—how his hands felt against my skin, the weight of him above me, the way everything inside me screamed both yes and no when he positioned himself between my thighs.But it’s the moment he stopped that replays endlessly in my mind.I should feel grateful. He showed mercy, proved he wasn’t the monster I sometimes fear he’s becoming. But somehow his restraint feels like another form of control—another way to remind me that even my body’s betrayal belongs to him.“I will never force you. Never you, Alaki.”The words echo in my head as I finally force myself to sit up. The nausea hits immediately, familiar waves that somehow feel worse this morning. Maybe because of the stress, or maybe because part of me knows exactly where the relief will come from.My fingers find the handle of the nightstand drawer, and even this simple action fe

  • I Am Mustafin   ⊰ 4 ⊱ No Safe Haven

    I adjust my tie in the mirror, watching her reflection in the bed behind me. She lies curled on her side, silk sheets twisted around her waist, looking more fragile than I’ve ever seen her. Seeing her this way makes something in my chest tighten—the way her shoulders curve inward, how she keeps her eyes fixed on some distant point rather than watching me dress like she used to.You did this.The thought rises unbidden as I smooth invisible wrinkles from my suit jacket. Not so long ago, these morning routines carried a different weight. She would watch me with those eyes that made every burden worth carrying, every sacrifice worth making. Now she won’t even look at me.“Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” I say, measuring each word carefully. Testing. Waiting for any reaction—a nod, a glance, even the slight tension that usually accompanies my commands. But she remains perfectly still, as if the words never reached her at all.Is this what you wanted? To break her so completely

  • I Am Mustafin   ⊰ 3 ⊱ Between Longing and Loathing

    Content Advisory: This chapter contains themes of dominance, submission, emotional and physical manipulation, and an instance of coerced intimacy. Reader discretion is strongly advised.Steam curls from the bathroom as I enter our bedroom, carrying with it the familiar scent of Alaki’s soap. She stands before the full-length mirror, a vision in blue silk that clings to her still-damp skin. The fabric is deliberately sheer, chosen to make her feel exposed, vulnerable. To remind her of those days when uncertainty colored her every movement, back when she was nothing more than a beautiful possession, before she became everything.Before she became mine in ways that transcended ownership.Her hair falls in wet curls down her back, droplets making the silk translucent where they fall. Something in me aches at how young she looks. How breakable. Even from across the room, I can see the slight tremor in her hands, betraying her nervousness. The sight of her like this—afraid but trying so har

  • I Am Mustafin   ⊰ 2 ⊱ The Leash She Doesn't Hold

    The soft click of heels echoes through the dining room, each step a countdown I refuse to acknowledge. My body, however, betrays me. It reacts before my mind can suppress it—a Pavlovian response. I should have broken it by now. My breath steadies, measured, but tension coils in my jaw. She has me on an invisible leash, and the worst part is, she doesn’t even have to pull. All it takes is her presence. Then she steps through the doors, poised, untouchable, and something in my chest tightens, an unspoken command I have no choice but to obey.My beautiful little Bea.She’s breathtaking in the dress I chose, baby blue silk floating around her like liquid moonlight. The color makes her look impossibly delicate, highlighting the shadows beneath her cheekbones, the perfect arch of her throat where my necklace rests. She’s lost weight—enough that the dress hangs slightly loose where it should cling—but somehow that only enhances that deceptive mask of innocence that makes her look more like t

  • I Am Mustafin   S3 ⊰ 1 ⊱ Possessive Progeny

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  • I Am Mustafin   | 28 | The Edge of Submission

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  • I Am Mustafin   | 27 | Shattering Truth

    “How are you feeling?” Isaak asks softly as he walks beside me up the stairs.I glance at him briefly, studying him for a moment before shrugging. “I'm fine,” I respond dryly.I've spent so much time worrying about questions involving him that I never stopped

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  • I Am Mustafin   | 26 | A Quiet Sunday

    As I sit here, sipping orange juice from my glass, I find myself grateful for small mercies—namely, the absence of a hangover. It's 2 PM, and I've only managed to drag myself out of bed and down to the dining table about 30 minutes ago.It's Sunday, and I know better than to expect Efrem's company.

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  • I Am Mustafin   | 25 | Sunrise

    “You take care, hon!” Amara exclaims, pressing a can of sparkling water and a sealed straw into my hands. She leans in, whispering conspiratorially, “These are for later,” as she discreetly slips a small plastic bag into my sweater pocket.“Baby, they've gotta get going,” Deonta'e intervenes, his a

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