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Cheap

작가: Cra4writes
last update 최신 업데이트: 2024-11-06 12:28:56

She was only going to wait, to wait until an opportunity comes by for her to escape.

Sherry watched Dallion as he closed his eyes, his hand shielding them from the faint light filtering into the room. She felt a strange stillness, now that he had decided to take a nap. Unsure of what to do with the boxes of shoes he’d bought for her, she lowered herself to the floor, setting them beside her.

Opening one of the boxes, Sherry was met with a sleek heel, reminiscent of the ones the store assistant had forced her to try on earlier. Despite Dallion’s insistence on something “cheap,” these shoes looked anything but extremely expensive. Maybe in the Cross empire’s elite stores, this was the baseline, the cheapest one, as per Dallion's thoughts there was nothing affordable for anyone who wasn't within their high ranks or powerful connections in their circle.

She closed the box, then opened another to reveal a pair of flat-laced boots, sturdy yet grace
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  • The Devil's Claim... His little mouse.   Art of seduction

    "Alright," came Sherryl Rain's answer, which Dallion couldn't help but raise his brow at. Had the matter been so worrisome that she wanted him to go talk to his sister, the one who had kicked and shamed her in public? Just remembering it, he could feel his blood begin to boil. She scrambled on the bed, pushing the pillow that was in the way to hear and see Dallion raise his hand. "Wait," he said, scooting closer to the center of the bed. He fluffed some more pillows around him. Once he was seated comfortably, his legs stretched long on the bed without crossing them, he saw her move closer to him. One second at a time. Sherryl Rain had agreed to his deal without truly processing what it actually was. But after taking in his simple words, she took a deep breath and moved towards him. The bed was soft enough to have her knees sink deep into it, which almost made her stumble, only for Dallion to catch her hand. "I must say, I haven't seen this worst way of seducing anyone until no

  • The Devil's Claim... His little mouse.   initiate a kiss.

    Today the dining room was quiet, not the kind of quiet that soothed anyone but the kind of guilt that scraped against the walls of cross empire.Dallion pulled the chair beside his,tapped it once, and Sheryl sat, this time it wasnot on the cold marble floor she was used to,but beside him, where dignity still dared to breathe.Grace lowered her gaze.His stepmother stirred her glass too long.And his father... just watched,like a man too tired to show his cruelty.Only Rosie’s seat sat empty. She didn't show up for breakfast .Sheryl’s arms were covered in scars that were in deep red, the doctor had given her ointment and was sure it would work pretty fast on her skin.Still, Dallion could feel her stiffness,like she was waiting for a command.Or a slap.Dallion didn't bother with anyone else at the table, he kept giving meals to Sheryl and keenly watched her eat just like his little muse.After her last bite, he rose.She followed without being told.Down the hall, past the p

  • The Devil's Claim... His little mouse.   Bad Dreams

    With Dallion having left the hall and gone back to his room, Lady Fleurance rushed to her daughter’s side. Grace Cross followed her stepmother, stepping close to the chair where her younger sister sat, unmoving, staring into a void of nothing. She looked wrecked—utterly blank. Blood still trickled down from her mouth, staining the front of her designer blouse, crimson against silk. Her upper jaw was visibly marred, the skin there was pale and drying. Lady Fleurance bent down and picked up the bloody teeth that had been torn from her daughter’s mouth, her fingers trembling. “Rosie?” Her voice cracked, too gentle for the weight in the air. She moved to untie the ropes around her daughter’s wrists, the knots still tight around the arms of the chair. When Grace stepped forward to help, her hands raised, Lady Fleurance snapped, “Stop!” The voice cut clean through the tension, sharp and sudden. “Don’t even think of touching her. You and your brother planned this, didn’t you? You

  • The Devil's Claim... His little mouse.   her mouth bled

    Rose had been warned—and it wasn’t the first time the warning had come down hard on her. Again and again, she had mocked it. Taunted. Dismissed. And now, she had no one to blame but herself. “Would you be kind enough to get the ropes from the attic room,” Dallion said coldly to his sister. Grace Cross—the eldest daughter—stood unsure for a second. Should she wait? Should someone else speak up? But silence pressed down like a loaded pistol on the back of her neck. No protest came. “Yes,” she finally answered. Grace sitting in the chair—cast a final look at the trembling girl and then turned away, her heels echoing down the corridor as she headed toward the attic. Rose looked up at Dallion, eyes wide in alarm. “What are you planning to do?” she asked, her voice cracking just slightly. As Grace Cross walked toward the attic, a weight settled over her chest. She wasn’t stupid—she knew what was about to happen. And yet, no one—not even she—had expected it to escalate like this

  • The Devil's Claim... His little mouse.   you'll regret this

    The street was quieter than usual, too quiet for a place that fed on sin.Dallion paused by the rusted sign swinging above, its letters faded like the truths buried in this city.He wasn’t planning to step in. Not today.But something pulled at him—some whisper stitched into the air.And when he opened that crooked door, it wasn’t desire that greeted him.It was death.The metallic scent of blood greeted him like an old friend, curling into his nose.There, under the dim red lights, Bathsheba sat slouched, her body was trembling, lips cracked in a smile meant only for ghosts.Clutched in her hand was a blood-stained note."He left this," she whispered."Sheryl’s father... they shot him. He never had a chance to meet her as planned."Then her eyes dimmed, and she fell still—like the silence had come to collect its due.Dallion's guards buried Bathsheba beneath the weeping fig, there were;No hymns. No farewells. Just dirt on bloodied laceand the wind carrying her name into nothing.Sh

  • The Devil's Claim... His little mouse.   lucky

    Feeling the soft mattress under the palm of her hands, she sighed. No slave would have the luxury she was having right now. She wasn't an idiot to not understand. While many girls trapped in the underworld trade were mistreated, her life was far better. It only made her question if she was really a slave. Then again, Dallion had threatened her long ago that he would hunt and find her if she were to ever run away from him—but was that really necessary? She was an average woman, where he was a man carved out of the Cross empire's deadliest bloodline. Some of the girls would consider themselves to be lucky. To have caught the eye of a kingpin from the higher society, as they would have the fortune of living like a queen. Then there was another kind who called it a curse, women who hated and feared the entire existence of men like him. Sherryl Rain didn't belong in any of them. Her initial plan of escaping had been washed away with the reveal of her being the daughter of a wanted spy

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