เข้าสู่ระบบแชร์
| 56 | A Love That Cuts
วันที่เผยแพร่:
2026-06-16 07:40:07
บทล่าสุด
I Am Mustafin | 62 | On Bended Knee
My steps echo through empty corridors as I make my way to his office. The time for hiding is over. Between Ciana's son’s fate and the secret growing beneath my heart, I’m running out of options.This is my last chance to make it right before I have to tell him. His office door stands slightly ajar, warm light spilling into the darkened hallway. My hand trembles as I push it wider, the familiar creak making my heart stutter. My gaze lands on his desk, expecting to find him in his chair.But he’s not there.My brows furrow slightly as I enter cautiously, and when I turn to the sofa, my breath catches.Efrem sits there, his usual pristine appearance softened by evening shadows and whiskey. His jacket lies discarded over the back of a chair, tie loose around his neck, shirt sleeves rolled to expose his muscular forearms. The crystal tumbler in his hand is painfully familiar—a sight that has become too normal. An almost-empty decanter sits on the table beside him—evidence this isn’t his f
I Am Mustafin | 61 | Caged Birds
The sound of my own retching echoes off the bathroom walls, familiar now after a week of these forced dinners. My fingers grip the cool porcelain as I empty my stomach of everything I managed to swallow under Efrem’s watchful eye. When the heaving finally stops, I reach over to flush and rest my forehead against the toilet’s edge, trying to remember how to breathe.Seven nights.Seven dinners filled with silence, watching him as he watches me while I perform perfect submission as rage I’m too exhausted to properly feel continues to build.I drag myself up slowly, limbs shaking as I rinse my mouth and splash cold water on my face. In the mirror, my reflection looks haunted—dark circles under eyes, cheekbones sharper than they should be.You can’t keep doing this. The thought lingers as I sink onto the edge of my bed, one hand finding my stomach. Outside my door, I hear the quiet shuffle of Matvey’s shift coming to an end. Soon, the hallways will fall silent—that strange freedom Efrem
I Am Mustafin | 60 | A Hunger for Control
The last of Amara’s pills sits in my palm—small, white, round. One left. Like so many things lately, time feels like it’s slipping through my grasp, options dwindling with each passing day. Soon, my body will betray this secret I’ve been desperately trying to hide. Soon, I’ll have no choice but to tell him.But not tonight.I place the pill on my tongue, washing it down with water that tastes of copper and fear. My reflection stares back at me from the vanity mirror, the silk dress I’ve chosen falling loose enough to hide the subtle changes in my body.But nothing—not even the makeup—can disguise the haunted look in my eyes.Just get through dinner. Whatever this is, just survive it.But survival feels harder lately, more complicated. It’s not just about me anymore—hasn’t been since that desperate night when I begged him to reclaim me, to make me forget a kiss that destroyed everything. Now, every choice carries double weight. Every risk threatens not just my life, but the tiny spark
I Am Mustafin | 59 | The Art of Punishment
Content Advisory: This chapter contains depictions of emotional manipulation, trauma bonding, self-blame, and power dynamics within a toxic relationship. Reader discretion is advised.The ache in my cheek has dulled to a persistent throb, but every time I catch my reflection, the bruising draws my eye like a beacon. Even now, standing in before the bathroom sink after a shower that couldn’t wash away the memory of last night, I find myself touching the tender flesh—not because it hurts, but because I still can’t believe it happened.My fingers trace the edges of the bruise, remembering how his hand felt against my skin. Not the strike itself—that’s still a blur of shock and pain—but the way he grabbed me afterward. The way his fingers found my throat, how even in his fury, something made him pull back.He could have killed me. He wanted to kill me.But he didn’t.The thought loops endlessly as I stare at the bathroom sink, my damp hair dripping onto silk pajamas that feel too fine aga
I Am Mustafin | 58 | The Price of His Name
Content Advisory: This chapter contains depictions of emotional manipulation, physical violence, and themes of control and power dynamics within a toxic relationship. Reader discretion is strongly advised.It’s been a week since our return from the Diallo sector, a week of laying in bed awake past midnight. The mansion feels different at night—empty corridors stretching like arteries through darkness, each shadow a reminder of how alone I feel.Efrem’s been even more distant since we returned home. At least in the Diallo sector, we shared a bed, breathed the same air. Here, he’s retreated back into his work, and I remain in a separate bedroom.My hand drifts to my stomach beneath the covers, finding that subtle curve that grows more noticeable with each passing day. Soon, I won’t be able to hide it. Soon, the choice of when and how to tell him will be taken from me entirely.I can’t keep going like this.The thought rises unbidden as I stare at the ceiling, watching shadows dance acro
I Am Mustafin | 57 | Rain and Ruin
Rain drums against the car windows as lightning flashes and rolls across the sky. Normally, I’d find the storm unsettling, but nothing could be more unsettling than the storm of tension raging in the car. The leather seat between Efrem and me feels wider than it did when we left the Diallo mansion, though nothing has physically changed. Hours of silence stretch behind us like the dark road ahead, broken only by the rhythmic sweep of windshield wipers.I keep my eyes fixed on the window, watching rivers of water track patterns across glass. It’s easier than catching Efrem’s reflection. The storm grew steadily as we drove, starting as a gentle mist and building to this downpour that turns the world beyond our headlights into sheets of grey.My stomach rolls slightly as Alek takes a curve too fast, and I have to swallow hard against the familiar nausea. Amara’s medication wore off hours ago, but I couldn’t risk taking another pill with Efrem watching. He’s been too observant lately, stud
I Am Mustafin | 28 | The Edge of Submission
I like to think I handle things fairly well. When you've lived a life like mine, you'd imagine few things could truly faze you. And while it's true that I've come to appreciate my ability to respond adequately under hostility, I don't think anything could've prepared me for what I learned tonight.
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-03-31I 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
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-03-30I 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.
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-03-29I 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
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-03-28
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