LOGINSUSAN’S POVMy body went rigid.I didn’t know what to do.I felt fear, but I also felt a strange curiosity.Maybe it was the alcohol.Maybe it was the anger inside me.Maybe it was the part of me that wanted to feel alive again, even if it was through something dangerous.I knew this was wrong, but I was willing to give life another chance at all cost. I had lost way too much with Mark, this might be my way of escape from all the hurts I have tried to bury inside.He stood, signaled me, and I staggered.He grabbed me like I was prey ready to be devoured.It felt wrong.It felt exciting.It felt like a mistake waiting to happen.He took me out of the club to a car — it had to be his car, because he had the keys. He opened the back door and tossed me in, then followed.The moment the door closed, the world outside disappeared.All that existed was him and me.“See who called me a tiger?” I said, my voice shaking. “You recognize your species, don’t you?”He didn’t respond.He grabbed my
Saturday Evening (Susan’s POV)I was scared and shaky, but I promised myself I would give life another chance. So here I was.The club looked the same as always — loud music, bright lights, and people who seemed to be living a life I could never afford. The air was heavy with perfume, sweat, and the kind of energy that made you feel like anything could happen if you just let it.I walked in, trying to act like I belonged. I tried to pretend I wasn’t terrified. But the truth was, I felt out of place.I wasn’t surprised, though.Almost every woman in the room was dressed in lingerie — barely-there outfits that left nothing to the imagination. Their confidence was loud. Their movements were bold. They were all so sure of themselves, so used to being desired, so used to being taken.And then there was me.A woman in a red gown.A woman who had come here not to be wanted, but to forget.A woman who had just broken her heart and was trying to rebuild herself by stepping into the unknown.I
GREG’S POVI headed to my room and took a long nap. I obviously hadn’t slept well the previous night. My body was tired, but my mind wasn’t. My thoughts were still spinning, still replaying the previous night in my head.I kept thinking about the club. The noise. The lights. The faces. The feeling of being in control.The clock on the wall read 5:35 p.m. when I woke up.I was shocked at how much sleep I’d gotten, but relieved. The day had passed, and I could head to the club soon. The club was my escape, my therapy, my addiction. It was where I felt most alive. Where I felt like I had power again.I went to my study, opened my laptop, and began handling emails. Monday was going to be intense, so I wanted to get ahead. I needed to keep my focus. I needed to keep my mind busy. Anything to avoid thinking.After a while, Aunty Farrah knocked and entered.“Good evening, Mr. Greg. Coffee or tea?”Aunty Farrah knew me well. She knew when I was stressed, when I was angry, when I was tired. Bu
Saturday Morning (Greg’s POV)“Good morning, Dad,” I greeted as I grabbed a chair opposite my mom’s.My dad stared at me with authority mixed with disgust. He didn’t reply. The silence in the room was heavy, the kind that made you feel like you were being weighed and measured. I knew what was coming. My dad was a bit predictable, but that didn’t help him escape his terror.“Why weren’t you home last night?” he asked, his voice sharp and controlled. “Don’t tell me you worked late because I already called and you weren’t there.”I knew better than to say that. He had already checked. He didn’t even need to check, but he always did. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could get away with that.“I had a really long day and needed to clear my head over some drinks, so I booked a hotel for the night,” I said.He scoffed. “You couldn’t clear your head at home? This is a mansion. Everything you need is here — a whole bar and countless rooms. And you chose a hotel?”“I needed a different environ
GREG’S POVMy sex was my escape. It was how I released the anger, frustration, and pressure I felt from my family and the empire I was expected to maintain. I wasn’t gentle. I wasn’t soft. I ignored the tension and did things my way. I’d gotten used to this life so I knew how to handle things.I pushed forward with force, and she moaned. Her resistance faded. She became quiet. I kept going until I was satisfied.When I was done, I let her rest and we went in for another round.It was intense. It was raw. It was how I survived.Claire passed out by 4 a.m.We both woke up later.“Good morning, handsome,” she said, getting dressed. “Would my name matter now?”I didn’t respond.“Yesterday was hot,” she continued. “I would love to do this again.”I grabbed her to my chest and pulled a bundle of money from my pocket. I shoved it into her hands.“I don’t eat from the same plate twice,” I said.I opened the car door and threw her out.She screamed, “Are you serious?”I drove off like nothing
Saturday Evening (Susan’s POV)I was scared and shaky, but I promised myself I would give life another chance. So here I was.The club looked the same as always — loud music, bright lights, and people who seemed to be living a life I could never afford. The air was heavy with perfume, sweat, and the kind of energy that made you feel like anything could happen if you just let it.I walked in, trying to act like I belonged. I tried to pretend I wasn’t terrified. But the truth was, I felt out of place.I wasn’t surprised, though.Almost every woman in the room was dressed in lingerie — barely-there outfits that left nothing to the imagination. Their confidence was loud. Their movements were bold. They were all so sure of themselves, so used to being desired, so used to being taken.And then there was me.A woman in a red gown.A woman who had come here not to be wanted, but to forget.A woman who had just broken her heart and was trying to rebuild herself by stepping into the unknown.I







