SOLD TO THE DEVIL IN SILK

EMILYI couldn’t sleep. Not even for a second. My body lay still, but my mind was a storm. How could I even begin to accept marrying a monster huh? A man who thought everything and everyone could be bought with money. The audacity… the arrogance… the filth, that man is an arrogant bastard and I really despised him with the fiber of my being…..“No,” I whispered to the silence, clutching my arms tighter around myself. “I won’t do it. I can’t, I will never ever do that.”Suddenly, the rusty cell door creaked open. My heart leapt with fear. And then he walked in, James Bolton like he owned the world and everything breathing in it…. He was just too arrogant and I felt like punching him in the gut.“Good morning, sunshine,” he said with a smirk, the strong scent of alcohol following him like a shadow, a responsible human drinking alcohol in the morning, he is really a red flag.I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I just stared at him, cold and numb. Inside me, there was chaos, fear, rage, confu

EMILYIt’s been three days since the slap.Three whole days of darkness, silence, and hunger, I really suffered.They locked me in a freezing metal room with nothing but a bucket and a glinting lightbulb that buzzed like it was mocking me. I hadn’t eaten. I hadn’t bathed. I was losing my mind. My body was giving up. I was dizzy from standing. My lips were cracked and soared, I haven't really eaten for days. My stomach… empty.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw James’s face.That twisted smirk.That quiet storm in his eyes. That... kiss.I still felt it. On my lips. Like poison I couldn’t spit out.But I hated him. I hated him.“Open up,” a voice barked from outside the door.I didn’t move. The door swung open and the guards stepped in like champions...They didn’t say a word. They just grabbed me roughly like a dumb bag and dragged me by my arms across the hallway. I was too weak to fight. My bare feet brushed the cold concrete, but I barely felt it anymore,I was weak and tired all ov

EmilyThe moment the words left his lips "Tonight, you’re sleeping in my bed" something inside me twisted. A thousand alarms blared in my head, but I didn’t show it. I kept my chin high as I walked away from the dining room, the stains of humiliation still wet against my skin like cold water….The maids were already waiting for me in the corridor, like they’d been prepped for what was next. Without a word, they ushered me into another room a different one this time. Bigger. Brighter. More luxurious than any I’d been in since I got here.They didn’t just clean me up. They dressed me like I was going on a royal date. The silk black nightgown they picked barely touched my knees, thin straps hanging on my shoulders like whispers, the fabric hugging every inch of my skin. One of them dabbed a little perfume behind my ears. The scent was warm, sinful like temptation wrapped in petals.My heart was beating fast when they finally led me through a long hallway until we stopped in front of a da

EMILY The morning light felt like a cruel joke streaming through the tall windows of what James called "the bridal suite." I sat on the edge of the velvet chair, my wrists still aching from where the silk restraints had held me the night before. Three days had passed since our last confrontation, and James hadn't spoken to me once. The silence was worse than his threats. "Miss Emily?" A soft voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see Martha, the elderly seamstress James had brought in. Her kind eyes reminded me of my mother, which made everything hurt worse. "It's time, dear," she whispered, gesturing toward the rack of wedding dresses that had appeared overnight like white ghosts. My stomach twisted. "Time for what?" "Mr. Bolton wants you to choose your dress for the ceremony next week." "What ceremony?" The words came out sharper than I intended. Martha's face crumpled with pity. "Your wedding dress, child. He's been quite specific about what he wants." The door open

Emily The silver key felt cold against my palm, like touching ice in winter. My heart hammered so hard I was sure James could hear it echoing through the secret room. The photos of those dead girls stared at me from the walls, Rebecca, Maria, Catherine, Isabella, Diane, and Sarah. All of them had once held hope, just like me. All of them were gone."Come," James said, his voice smooth as silk but deadly as poison. "Let me show you to your real room."I wanted to throw the key at his face and run, but where could I go? His guards were everywhere. So I followed him through corridors I'd never seen before, my bare feet silent on the cold marble floors."You're different, Emily," he said without looking back. "The others were so... predictable. They cried, they begged, they made promises they couldn't keep. But you? You found my collection in four days. That's either brilliant or reckless.""Maybe I'm both," I replied, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounded.He laughed, a sou