I wasn’t supposed to overhear. But in Elysium, secrets had a way of finding me—even when I wasn’t looking for them.I’d gone to the lounge late, craving the quiet. My notebook was tucked under my arm, but writing was the last thing on my mind. My thoughts were still tangled in the discovery of the hidden cameras, the way Victor’s fury smoldered behind his calm. I wanted stillness, but instead, I found voices raised in the corridor outside Jennifer’s private chambers.Leo’s voice—sharper than I’d ever heard it.“Who were you meeting, Jennifer?”I froze.Jennifer’s laugh followed, low and smooth, but not amused. “Careful, darling. You’re starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend.”Leo’s reply cut through the silence like a lash. “Don’t turn this into a game. I saw you. Twice this week. Slipping out, always with that same look. Who is it?”My pulse quickened. I crept closer, standing just beyond the curtain that divided the hall.Jennifer’s heels clicked against the floor as she moved.
I thought the sound recorders were the worst of it. As if listening in on our scenes, our whispered secrets, was violation enough. But when Victor called me into the Red Room after hours with Marco at his side, I knew by the storm in his eyes that something even darker had been uncovered.The room was dim, stripped of its usual glow. No candles tonight, no sensual music. Just harsh white work lights that threw everything into sharp relief. Victor stood near the wall, his arms folded, his body radiating fury barely contained. Marco was crouched on a chair, flashlight in hand, his lean frame half inside one of the ventilation grates.“Cassie,” Victor said, his voice a low rumble. “Come here.”I obeyed instantly, the command threading heat through my belly even as dread tightened my chest.Marco’s voice echoed from inside the vent. “Got another one.”He pulled himself out, holding a tiny black object between his fingers. It was barely larger than a button, a sleek, almost invisible devic
When Victor told me the next demonstration would take place in the “infirmary,” I almost laughed. Elysium was built for opulence, for shadows and silk—not for white walls and exam tables. But when I stepped through the door, my chest tightened.The room was transformed into a clinical fantasy. Bright lights glared down on a polished steel table, cabinets lined with labeled bottles, and a heart monitor that beeped faintly for atmosphere. A tray of instruments gleamed in the light—stainless steel speculums, latex gloves, even a stethoscope coiled like a serpent.My throat closed. Hospitals had always been my private nightmare. My mother’s long illness, the endless sterile visits, the smell of antiseptic that clung to my hair when I was a child—I’d carried it with me like a scar.I hesitated at the threshold.Dr. Elise Chen looked up from adjusting her gloves. She was poised and elegant, her black hair pulled into a neat bun, her expression calm but commanding. In her day life, she was a
The council chamber in Elysium wasn’t used often. It was a quiet room, set apart from the play floors, with polished mahogany walls and a long oval table surrounded by leather chairs. I’d never been inside before tonight, but I could feel the gravity of it immediately. This wasn’t a space for spectacle—it was a space for judgment.Victor sat at the head of the table, his presence commanding as ever. The silver in his dark hair gleamed under the dim light, his posture taut but deliberate. Around him sat the senior figures of the club—Jennifer in a crimson dress that cut like a blade, Marco with his easy smile muted into something sharper, Andre the dungeon monitor, Nadia and Rafael side by side.And me—curled near Victor’s right hand, aware of how out of place I looked among the veterans. But his hand rested lightly over mine beneath the table, anchoring me.Victor’s voice was steady when he began. “We have a problem. Two recorders have been discovered in private rooms. Photos have sur
The gala had ended hours ago, but my heart was still trembling with the echoes of it. I couldn’t stop replaying the moment another Dominant’s hand closed around my wrist, the way the crowd laughed and cheered when my name was “sold,” the flicker of fury in Victor’s eyes as he watched me kneel for someone else—if only for a scene.It had been role play. All of it. For charity, for spectacle, for the theater of Elysium. And yet, the tension between us clung like smoke.Now, in Victor’s penthouse, I sat curled in his chair while the city’s skyline bled silver and gold through the windows. He stood by the glass, jacket discarded, shirt undone at the collar. His hands were buried in his pockets, his shoulders rigid, his reflection fractured by the night.“Victor,” I whispered, breaking the silence.He didn’t turn right away. When he finally did, his eyes burned with something rawer than I expected. “I owe you an apology.”My breath caught. “You?”He moved closer, every step deliberate. “Ye
Lena used to find me before I found her. She’d appear on the balcony like a shadow with a smile, slipping little comments in my ear about who was watching whom, or which Dominant had surprised everyone with tenderness after a scene. She was my confidante in those first nights, the one who made the glittering strangeness of Elysium feel less overwhelming.But lately, she had become a ghost.I noticed it first in the small things. She didn’t sit with me on the balcony anymore. She lingered in corners, her eyes darting when I tried to catch her gaze. She laughed less. She touched her phone more.And then tonight, when I went looking for her, I found her slipping into one of the back corridors reserved for staff.“Lena?” I called softly.She froze. Her shoulders tensed before she turned, her face bright with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Cassie! Didn’t see you there.”My heart pinched. “You’ve been avoiding me.”Her smile faltered. “No, I’ve just been… busy. Helping Jennifer