Mag-log in~ Avelyn ~
Sunlight filtered in through high arched windows. Pale gold. Too soft for where I expected to be. Was I… dead? No. Not with the pounding in my head. Not with the chill on my bare shoulders and the unfamiliar scent of vanilla and jasmine soaked into the sheets. I blinked. This wasn’t the dungeon my fear had painted. This was… A room. A massive, terrifyingly elegant room with marble floors, towering curtains, and a chandelier that looked like it cost more than my entire house growing up. The bed I was in could fit a whole basketball team. Maybe two. The walls weren’t walls, they were panels of expensive wallpaper and built-in wardrobes. And I was… lying in the middle of it. Fully dressed in that humiliating chiffon dress with the gold accessories still clinging to my arms and ankles like reminders. I sat up fast—dizzy. Disoriented. Then the door opened. Two women swept in like ghosts dressed in black and white. Uniforms. Maids. They didn’t look at me. They just moved like robots. One began unpacking a parade of designer bags onto the chaise by the window. The other was arranging shoes in a row across the polished floor, muttering to herself about brand sorting. Boxes. Labels. Heels I couldn’t pronounce and dresses wrapped in silk like they were something sacred. My throat went dry. I wanted to say something but— “Your tea, miss,” one said, without meeting my eyes. She placed a steaming porcelain cup beside me on a silver tray, bowed slightly, and turned away. I blinked again. Me? “Wait…” My voice cracked. “This is… for me?” The younger maid finally met my eyes. “It’s the Master’s order,” she said simply, “to have you ready to meet him in the gardens.” My heart stuttered. The Master. That’s what they called him around here. Of course they did. I was in his world now. They stripped me like I was breakable porcelain, guided me into a steaming bath like I was royalty. Their hands didn’t shake. Their voices didn’t waver. Everything was calm, polished, robotic. It should’ve been mortifying. And at first, it was. Being bathed like a princess when all my life I’d washed in a creaky tub with cold water and chipped soap. But their fingers were gentle, and when one of them massaged my scalp with lavender oil, something in me melted. The warmth. The silence. The quiet splashing of water. I could pretend. Just for a second. That I was someone else. Someone free or maybe even someone loved. But luxury comes with a price and mine had already been paid. With my name and my freedom. Why did this awfully remind me of the Elvans? Treated like dirt, invisible, worthless except when someone needed something. At least here I was being scrubbed and scented. Was this better? Maybe. Maybe not. Wrapped in towels that were fluffier than any bed I’d slept in, I stood in front of a closet the size of my old bedroom. Three outfits were laid out. All designer. All stunning. They gestured for me to choose. I stared. Unsure. Then pointed at the one that looked… least like I was going to be served with a side of shame. A white dress with soft blue floral patterns. Feminine. Simple. Not screaming auction trophy. They nodded in approval. I didn’t argue when they blow-dried my hair and styled it like I was meeting royalty. When they pulled out the makeup brushes, I shook my head. “No makeup. I don’t want—” “Master only sees the best,” the head maid said, already dabbing concealer under my eyes. I gulped. “Does your master have a name?” No answer. Of course they wouldn’t respond. The greenhouse looked like a dream painted in golds and greens. A glass room filled with overgrown orchids and rare roses and little hanging pots that dripped like teardrops from the ceiling. And in the middle?A table set for two, with him in it. He sat there like he belonged to this world more than any living thing. Legs crossed. One hand resting lazily on the table, the other cradling a teacup. He was too composed, too clean as if control had always come naturally to him. His eyes met mine and didn’t blink. “Sit.” I obeyed before I realized I had. “You didn’t answer my question earlier,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “Do you have a name?” He arched an eyebrow. “Why?” he said, voice smooth as polished glass. “Already practicing how you’ll address me in the bedroom?” I blinked. Heat flooded my cheeks. “That’s not—what I meant—” “I know what you meant.” He sipped his tea, unbothered. “You want a name to curse when I make you blush.” I nearly choked on air. “I don’t—blush.” He didn’t argue, he just stared. Then reached into a folder on the table and slid something across to me. A phone. Brand new sleek one. Certainly the latest model and beside it were papers. “You’ll need this,” he said, tapping the phone. “And this.” My eyes scanned the papers. It was a contract. My stomach dropped immediately. “You’re giving me a job?” “No.” His voice was light, but final. “I’m giving you a place. One with rules.” I picked up the pen. My fingers trembled. Kyle’s face flashed in my head. His laugh. His promise. The way he always told me I was worth more. A weight sank in my chest. I bit my bottom lip without realizing it, an habit for my stress induced life. “If I wanted to watch you bite your lip,” the man said softly, “I’d rather do it myself.” I froze. His eyes didn’t move and his tone didn’t change either. “You’re to sign the papers.” My fingers flexed around the pen.“So I have to do what you say… until when? Until you’re tired of me?” I blinked. “I can’t sign this. I need time.” He set his teacup down. The sound was soft but loud in the silence. “I must’ve given you the illusion that you have a choice,” he said. “You don’t.” His voice was the kind that didn’t rise. It fell. “From the moment you climbed that stage, the word choice was erased from your path. You already belong to me.” I swallowed hard as I watched him rise slowly, adjusting his cuffs like it wasn’t perfectly placed already! “But it’s your first day,” he said. “So I’ll spare you.” Spare me? Ha. This is absurd. He took three strides, then paused, just before the doors. “Xander Sterling.” My brows raised slightly. He glanced over his shoulder. “You have the right to know who owns you.” Then he disappeared into sunlight and glass. I didn’t dwell on his arrogance or overbearing behavior. I took the phone, clutched the contract and left the greenhouse with my heels echoing down the hallway. I typed in Ari’s number. The second it rang I spoke. “Ari?” I breathed. “Lyn?! Oh my God, Lyn! I’ve been calling you! Where have you been?! Don’t tell me it was that bitch Lilian or her demonic offspring again, just say the word and I’ll drag them bald!” I laughed. God, I laughed. Real, belly-deep, tears-in-my-eyes laughter. Hearing her voice was like breathing after drowning. “Why are you laughing? I’m being serious, girl have they made you loco?” “I’m just happy to hear your voice,” I managed. “Yeah yeah, you got me worried sick. Kyle called me, okay? The most panicked voice I’ve ever heard. I thought he was bluffing until I gave you twenty missed calls. TWENTY, Lyn!” I blinked. Kyle. I wasn’t listening anymore. I was spiraling in my own head. “He didn’t want to tell you yet, but… he’s in town.” The world fell away. “Yay, right? I know you’re excited long-distance is hell. But you two are still making it work, right?” No, no, no. Why is he here? He can’t be here. Not now. Not when I— “Lyn? Why aren’t you saying anything?” “I’m a little busy,” I choked out. “I’ll call when I’m free to hang out.” “…you sound off, babe. You can tell me anything, don’t forget that. I’ll give you a heads up Kyle said he might stop by your house today. Just warning you. So, please, work things out with him. Call me later. Bye, love.” “Bye, love,” I whispered, then stared at the screen. The call ended and I nearly lost my balance. But a maid appeared at the door just in time. “Breakfast is served, miss.”— Xander —The fire had been extinguished by the time I returned.Smoke still coiled upward into the night, thick and bitter, staining the snowfall gray. The wreckage sat in the middle of the east road like a carcass picked clean by violence.The metal had collapsed, the windshield was gone and the frame was unrecognizable.My men stood back, forming a perimeter. No one spoke when I approached.Dominic walked beside me.“They pulled what they could,” he said quietly. “There wasn’t much left.”There rarely was.I stepped closer.The smell lingered, burned fuel, charred rubber and something heavier beneath it.Human.One of the men swallowed. “We found remains in the driver’s side.”Driver’s side.Not the back, not hidden or restrained.My gaze lowered to the blackened interior.The body was slumped forward, fused into what remained of the seat. Fire had erased identity. Flesh and fabric had become indistinguishable.There was nothing recognizable.Nothing that screamed her name.For a
— Xander —War did not frighten me.It steadied me.Gunfire cracked through the estate like splitting wood. Glass shattered somewhere along the east wing. Men shouted over one another, radios screeching with half-formed updates.Chaos was loud.But inside my head—Silence.I stepped over a body without looking down.“Chiudi l’ingresso ovest,” I said calmly. “Bloccate il cancello secondario. Nessuno entra, nessuno esce.”Close the west entrance. Lock the secondary gate. No one in. No one out.My voice did not rise.It never needed to.Dominic appeared at my side, blood staining the cuff of his sleeve — not his own.“They knew the blind spots,” he said low enough for only me to hear. “Lower perimeter. North fence.”“They didn’t know,” I replied evenly. “They were told.”There was a difference.Information was not guessed.It was given.Another burst of gunfire echoed. A chandelier crashed somewhere in the foyer.Snow drifted through the open doors where one of the panels had been blown
~ Avelyn ~Snow swirled in behind him, melting into the carpet like evidence that didn’t belong.Kyle’s face was tense and surprising as it may sound. It wasn’t from panic.He looked focused.“How did you even get up here?” I whispered.“There’s no time,” he said, glancing toward the hallway door as if he could see through it. Distant shouting echoed faintly through the estate. A thud. Something breaking. Gunfire, muted but unmistakable.My stomach dropped.“That’s not security,” I breathed.“No,” Kyle said quietly. “It isn’t.”The projector light flickered across his face, casting pieces of me over him. Pieces of my frozen body suspended mid-spin on the screen behind us.His jaw tightened when he noticed it.“He keeps recordings of you?” he asked.I didn’t answer and I heard him curse under his breath, “That sick bastard.”“We have to go. Now.”The urgency in his voice snapped me back to the present.“Go?” My heart began to race for a different reason. “Kyle, this is Xander’s private
~ Avelyn ~The room felt too large after he left.Too quiet.The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was waiting.I stood where he had ordered me to stay, fingers trembling slightly as I lifted them to my neck. The skin there was tender from his grip, not exactly bruised, he hadn’t let it go that far but marked in a way I could still feel beneath the surface.My hand drifted lower and before I could stop myself it landed on my stomach.A barely-there touch and a secret I carried alone.I didn’t know which terrified me more. What he would do if he found out… or what he would do if he didn’t.I moved to the window because I couldn’t stand still anymore. The air inside the room felt thick, like it was pressing against my lungs.I expected to see headlights. Armed men. Movement in the courtyard. Something violent to match the storm brewing inside this house.Instead—A single snowflake drifted past the glass.Then another. And another.Within seconds, the sky was shedding white.The first snow o
~ Avelyn ~“I knew you would come.”His voice didn’t rise and it didn’t need to. It settled into the room like a verdict already passed.For a heartbeat, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My fingers were numb, curled uselessly at my sides as the letter lay on the floor between us exposed, incriminating, no longer mine to protect.Slowly, he stepped inside.The door closed behind him with a quiet finality that made my stomach drop.“You’re not very good at lying,” Xander said mildly but I could hear the underlining of restrain in his tone. “But you’re excellent at convincing yourself you are.”I shook my head before I realized I was doing it. “I wasn’t— I didn’t—”“Stop.” One word. Absolute.I obeyed, my mouth closed like they had no right to be opened in the first place. I gulped the excess saliva in my mouth. He walked closer, unhurried, eyes never leaving my face. He didn’t bend to pick up the letter. Didn’t need to. He already had what he wanted.Me cornered.“I watched you tonig
~ Avelyn ~By the time I was escorted back to my room, my body felt hollow.Not weak, not tired.Hollow, like something essential had been scooped out and left behind somewhere between accusation and silence.I expected chaos when the door shut behind me.Broken things. Disarray. Evidence of a storm.Instead, the room was immaculate.The bed perfectly made. The curtains drawn at their precise angle. Not a single object out of place. Even the chair I’d abandoned in a rush earlier sat tucked neatly beneath the desk, obedient and still.I stared at it and then I laughed.It slipped out of me sharp and unsteady, too loud for the quiet. My hands flew to my mouth as if I could shove the sound back in, but it was already gone. The laugh didn’t carry humor. It carried hysteria.Of course the room was clean.As if nothing had happened.As if I hadn’t just watched a woman die on the floor.As if I hadn’t accused the most dangerous man I knew of murder to his face.As if my life wasn’t quie







