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Reputation Is a Battlefield
Last Updated:
2026-01-03 13:46:24
Latest chapter
The House Beneath the Blood Moon Chemical Silence
Samantha POV Truth doesn’t scream. It doesn’t beg to be believed. Truth waits—quiet, precise, patient—until the lie collapses under its own weight. At two in the morning, the hotel suite was silent except for the heavy, rhythmic beat of "Eye of the Tiger" thumping through my earbuds. I sat on the floor, surrounded by a sea of paper, the lyrics about the will to survive grounding me. My mind raced through five years of betrayal. For the first time in my life, I wasn't retreating into the shadows to protect my sister or placate my parents. I was standing my ground. I finally pulled the earbuds out as Lucien moved into the light. Truth was now spread across the table in medical files, lab reports, and timestamps. Data. Numbers. My body reduced to evidence. Lucien stood behind me, arms crossed, silent. When a vampire king goes this still, it isn’t calm—it’s control. He was an ancient force, a sovereign who had slept through centuries, now trying to navigate a world of digital foot
The House Beneath the Blood Moon Reputation Is a Battlefield
Samantha POV The sunlight hit the hotel suite with a brilliance that felt like a personal invitation. For the first time in six months, I didn’t wake up with a stone in my stomach or the echoes of my family’s insults ringing in my ears. I woke up feeling dangerous. I checked my phone. The screen was a chaotic mess—vibrating, chirping, glowing with the heat of a thousand notifications. I’d gone from a corporate pariah to the most wanted woman in tech in a matter of hours. I tossed the phone back onto the silk sheets and looked at Lucien. He was standing by the window, already dressed in a sharp black shirt. When he turned to me, his gaze softened into something molten. "You're awake," he murmured. "I'm more than awake," I said, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. I hopped out of bed, sporting nothing but a tiny, cropped t-shirt and a pair of black lace panties. I didn't care about being modest. I felt alive. I grabbed my laptop, hit the speakers, and blasted Taylo
The House Beneath the Blood Moon Ashes Don’t Stay Silent
Samantha POV The hotel door closed behind us with a sound too soft for how hard my chest was caving in. I didn’t cry immediately. That came later. At first, I just stood there, keys still in my hand, staring at the carpet like it had personally betrayed me. My parents’ voices were still ringing in my ears—sharp, precise, practiced. Like surgeons who knew exactly where to cut so it would hurt the longest. Ungrateful bitch. If we hadn’t taken you in, you’d be nothing. You owe your sister this. We can make you disappear. And the worst one—the one that kept replaying on a loop like a corrupted file: You were never really ours anyway. I dropped the keys. They hit the floor with a dull clatter that finally cracked something open inside me. “Oh,” I whispered. “That’s why.” Lucien didn’t speak. He didn’t rush me. He just stepped closer—slow, deliberate, like approaching a skittish animal that might bolt if startled. “Samantha,” he said softly. That was it. I folded.
The House Beneath the Blood Moon You Were Never Ours
SAMANTHA POV The development floor had been a sanctuary. For hours, I’d drowned in code—real code, clean logic, systems that responded honestly when you touched them the right way. No lies. No manipulation. Just cause and effect. It was the first time in months I hadn’t thought about Ethan. Or Chloe. Or my parents. Or Lucien. Or Sébastien. Just the hum of servers and the soft glow of monitors. I hadn’t seen the time pass. Then my phone vibrated. Once. Twice. Then again. Mom. My chest tightened like an invisible hand had closed around my ribs. I stared at the screen. Answered. “What the hell are you doing in this city?” she snapped, voice sharp with fury and something uglier—resentment. “I work here,” I said quietly. A laugh, bitter and cruel. “Don’t embarrass yourself. You used to work here. Before you ruined everything.” “I didn’t ruin—” “We know you were at a convention,” she cut in. “Strutting around like you still mattered.” “I was invited.” “You had no rig
The House Beneath the Blood Moon The architecture of desir
SAMANTHA POVWalking back into a tech environment felt like slipping into a familiar language I hadn’t spoken in months. But this time, I wasn't just a fluent speaker; I was the one who wrote the dictionary.LC Corp was a temple of glass and quiet tension. Screens everywhere—alive with data, code, and intent. It didn’t feel like Ethan’s company anymore. It felt like a machine that had forgotten who built its engine.Lucien stayed half a step behind me as we entered the main development floor. He looked like a king pretending to be a CEO, a predator in pinstripes. It was unsettlingly effective—and, if I was being honest with myself, devastatingly hot.“This floor houses application development,” I said, my voice projecting a confidence that made a few developers look up. I felt Lucien’s presence at my back—a steady, radiating heat. “Security layers, predictive systems. Think of it as the nervous system of the company. Though, looking at the latency on those monitors, I’d say the c
The House Beneath the Blood Moon THE FRICTION OF LIGHT
SAMANTHA POV I woke up slowly. It wasn't the usual "panic-snap" awake where my brain immediately inventories every threat in a five-mile radius. There was no "where-am-I-who’s-trying-to-kill-me" internal alarm. Instead, there was just… awareness. Soft, high-thread-count sheets. A heavy, humming warmth in the air. The faint, rhythmic vibration of the city waking up beyond the hotel glass. And beneath it all, an unfamiliar, liquid heaviness low in my stomach that had nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with the man in the next room. I opened my eyes. The room was flooded with pale morning light, filtered through sheer curtains into something soft and ethereal. For a long minute, I didn't move. I just breathed. And then, like a tidal wave, the memories of the night before came crashing back. The bath. The total system failure of my brain. Lucien’s arms—strong, cool, and terrifyingly steady—lifting me out of the water. Oh, God. I sat up too fast, the silk sheets
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