LOGINShare
117: The Dungeon Class
Last Updated:
2025-05-21 07:00:25The hallway stretched long and empty as they walked in perfect rhythm, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floors.
Their destination?Class Six.It was at the far end of the building, tucked away like a secret. The moment they reached the door, Miriam’s nose scrunched in mild distaste.“Why does this feel like we’re about to enter a haunted crypt?” she muttered, a frown tugging at her lips.Mika smirked, her tone sharp. “Because we probably are. Have you seen this place?”Fiero, standing closest to the door, pushed it open without hesitation, his hand brushing against the cool metal handle.The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted.Dark wooden shelves lined the walls, each crammed with thick, ancient books, their worn spines hinting at knowledge long forgotten or deliberately concealed.The low hum of the dim lights flickered, casting long, eerie shadows that seeme
Latest chapter
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 186: A Party Of Knives
The video call had come in that morning—fuzzy and half-hearted, a family tradition more dutiful than joyful. Faces on the screen smiled too wide, voices strained as they chorused Happy Birthday! and promised he was missed. A chocolate cake had been delivered to House Six’s common room shortly after, its surface smeared with clumsy icing and one broken candle mashed into the corner.It sat there now, untouched. Ugly. Like something that had already been eaten once.The frosting was melting down one side, and someone—specifically, Dr. Xavier Peterson—had been carving at it with a butter knife for the past twenty minutes. He sat cross-legged on the floor like a gremlin professor, licking frosting from his thumb and occasionally humming tunelessly. Crumbs freckled the front of his slacks. The man looked utterly at peace.No one mentioned that he wasn’t invited to the birthday celebration.No one cared.Fiero wasn’t even in the room. He was in the upstairs bathroom, standing beneath t
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 185: Stillness & Surrender
The room was quiet. Not with peace—but tension.Joy moved like a sin she knew she could get away with. Her thighs framed his hips, bare skin catching the low, flickering lamplight. Every motion was deliberate, languid. A performance for the one man who never clapped.Fiero watched her. Flat gaze, jaw set, arms loose at his sides. Still.He hadn’t touched her yet.She liked that. Too much."You’re letting me ride you like a prize horse," she murmured, tilting her head, sweat trailing from her temple to her collarbone. “Am I really that good?”He didn’t answer. His expression didn’t flicker. But she could feel the tension in his thighs beneath her. The faint tick in his jaw.Control.Always, always control.She rolled her hips—slow, unhurried. Felt the thick pressure of him stretching her open with an ache that bordered on cruel. She moaned soft, exaggerated, almost mocking and leaned forward, palms against his chest.Still, he didn’t touch her.“God, you’re so dramatic,” she whispere
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 184: Happy Birthday
Fiero dropped his phone onto the bed with a dull clunk, the sound swallowed by the plush sheets beneath it.He didn’t move.Didn’t speak.Just sat there, the tension crawling beneath his skin like static, fingers twitching at his sides.Then—without looking, he reached for her. Joy. Already curled up beside him like she owned the bed. Like she owned him. And maybe she did.His fingers slipped into her locs, the motion rougher than he meant it to be, but she didn’t flinch. She never flinched. Her eyes stayed on him—watchful, amused, dangerous.“You good?” she asked softly, voice thick with that post-midnight husk that always made him feel like his bones were vibrating.He didn’t answer. Not in words.Just a slow exhale through his nose and a tighter grip in her hair, dragging her head back until her throat arched, pale light casting a gleam across her collarbone.“You’re getting rough again,” she murmured, eyes gleaming.“You’re in my bed,” he said simply, voice low and rasped. “What d
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 183: The Weight Of Inheritance
The twins had gone to bed, leaving the house draped in silence.Not a comforting kind.The kind that pressed against the walls, thick and watching—like even the furniture was holding its breath. Somewhere in the distance, the dishwasher hummed and clicked through its final cycle. A soft thud from upstairs suggested one of the twins had dropped a stuffed animal mid-dream.Noah didn’t care. He was moving on instinct.With the kind of confidence only a younger sibling could summon—reckless, entitled, just slightly charming—he strode down the hallway and knocked twice on their parents’ door.He didn’t wait. The handle turned easily, and the door swung inward on the familiar creak.Inside, the room was warm with lamplight. Maria stood at her dresser in a pale robe, hair still damp from the shower. Her jewelry lay scattered across the polished wood—rings, earrings, a heavy gold necklace she hadn’t worn in years but kept close
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 182: The Math Of Power
Dinner had ended. The table had been cleared, the dishes put away, and the house had settled into its usual post-meal routine. The warm scent of roasted lamb and garlic still lingered in the air, mixing with the faint hint of vanilla from the candle Maria had blown out before leaving the dining room. In the living room, Ella sat cross-legged on the floor, helping Ivy and Iris with their homework. The twins sprawled out beside her, their little legs kicking absentmindedly as they whined about long division. "Why do we even need math, Aunty Ella?" Iris grumbled, tapping her pencil against her workbook. "So you don’t get swindled when you start spending your father’s money," Ella replied without missing a beat. Ivy gasped dramatically. "People would steal from us?" "Absolutely." Ella turned the page. "Now
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 181: Heir & Error
Luca Avancii had spent his youth being ruthless—an unrelenting force in business, carving out an empire with sharp instincts and sharper decisions. He didn’t negotiate. He didn’t pause. He didn’t second-guess. But now, in the later years of his life, something had shifted. Power never left a man willingly. It clung like a second skin, but these days, Luca took greater pleasure in simpler things: the weight of a good book in hand, a glass of thirty-year whiskey neat, the chaos of his children shrieking down the hall. Still, one thing hadn’t changed. Legacy. Legacy was everything. And that was why, at this moment, he stood in the center of the master bedroom, sleeves rolled up, jaw tight, facing off with his wife, Maria, as though she were a rival in one of his old boardroom wars. “You’re being unreasonable,” he said, voice low and tight.
You may also like
Her Graceful War Song
Summer's Blaze864.9K viewsMeet My Brothers
Red Thirteen4.4M viewsMy Best Friend's Father
Thorns612.5K viewsBogus Billionaire
Shining Riviera777.2K viewsEntangled With Mr.ceo
FaveWrites 125 viewsTHE BILLIONAIRE LAST LIE
TOBBY SHORUNMU72 viewsRevenge In Silk Sheets
Setemi 147 viewsThe Billionaire's Broken Bride
Delancyquin81 views
