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THE TAXONOMY OF GHOSTS

Auteur: Tabbie Quinn
last update Date de publication: 2026-07-12 21:33:51

POV: Aurora

The limestone walls of our townhouse always smelled faintly of dead lilies and floor wax…the expensive, structural fragrance of a mausoleum built for two.

I sat on the edge of the velvet chaise in my dressing room, unpinning my hair with slow, rhythmic movements. One by one, the heavy silver bobby pins dropped onto the marble vanity with a series of clean, metallic clinks. In the mirror, my reflection looked back at me with the pale, unblinking clarity of a creature that had lived u
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  • The taste Of Revenge   SHE SAID YES

    Damien’s POVThe heavy linen curtains of my master suite were pulled back just far enough to let the ambient glow of the New York skyline filter into the room. Outside, rain washed over the glass in steady, rhythmic sheets, blurring the chaotic city lights into soft pools of gold and violet. Inside, the world was entirely silent, save for the soft, steady sound of Selene’s breathing.She was resting against my chest, her bare shoulder warm against my skin and her fingers loosely woven through mine. The scent of sweet jasmine and fresh rain lingered around her with the scent that had completely invaded my brownstone over the past few months, slowly dismantling the cold, immaculate solitude I had spent a lifetime building. I looked down at her, tracing the delicate line of her jaw with my thumb. She looked so serene when she slept, stripped of the heavy armor she was forced to wear every single day. The world knows her as a brilliant surgeon and an extraordinary rising force in fashion,

  • The taste Of Revenge   THE CATHEDRAL OF ASH

    Aurora’s POVThe double-glazed glass spanning the perimeter of the forty-fifth floor panoramic window was ice cold against my forehead. Below, Manhattan looked like a microscopic city carved from graphite and quartz—yellow taxicabs crawling like tiny beetles down Fifth Avenue, neon billboards flickering through the grey drizzle, oblivious to the fact that their king was currently eating rubbery eggs off a plastic tray in a federal holding cell.I took a slow, deliberate sip of black espresso from a porcelain cup and it tasted like ash.The inner me didn't dance. She didn't throw her hands in the air or celebrate the catastrophic ruin of the man who had torn my world apart…she just sat quietly on a cold marble bench in the shadows of my mind, her knees pulled tight against her chest, arms folded, staring in stunned silence at her own bloodied hands.The heavy mahogany door to the corner office swung open without a knock, the soft latch clicking against the frame."Look at you," Elliot

  • The taste Of Revenge   TRADED GOLD FOR DUST

    Selene's POVMy inner goddess didn't just stop dancing…she crashed straight into a brick wall, knees buckling and her breath catching in a dry, agonizing gasp.I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper. The crystal tumbler didn't just fall, my fingers simply surrendered to the sheer gravity of what was happening on the screen. It shattered against the marble floor, a splash of amber scotch soaking through the delicate fabric of my heels. I couldn't move… I couldn't blink, my eyes stayed glued to the live broadcast, watching hands bound tightly in cold steel. The hands that had once held me, possessed me, and ultimately ruined me…being shoved down into the dark cavern of a federal vehicle.Xavier. “Oh, sweet lord... Xavier.”The impenetrable, sovereign titan of Manhattan looked completely hollowed out. His suit jacket was crumpled, his dark hair disheveled, sweat glistening on skin that had turned the sickly color of damp ash. His jaw hung slack and his dark eyes wide and bloodshot,

  • The taste Of Revenge   THE GLASS THRONE

    Xavier's POVThe heavy silver links of my Patek Philippe clicked against the solid dark mahogany table like a rhythmic countdown to an execution Elliott Crane didn't even know was coming. I stood alone in the shadow of the Carlyle suite, staring out at the hazy afternoon skyline of Manhattan. The sun was sharp and unforgiving, cutting through the tinted glass and casting long, razor-thin shadows across the velvet rug. I adjusted the broad lapels of my tailored charcoal coat, my breathing slow and dangerous.In less than an hour, my legal machine would file an emergency injunction, shorten Northstar’s primary credit facilities in London, and freeze Elliot out of his own operating capital. Elliott thought he had backed me into a corner with his pathetic SEC leaks. He was about to find out what happened when you backed a predator into a dead end.My thumb brushed the screen of my encrypted phone. One text was typed out, waiting to be sent to Gerald. ‘Secure the private terminal at Teterb

  • The taste Of Revenge   I AM A QUEEN, NOT THE PAWN

    Aurora's POVThe television screen bled a harsh, rhythmic red across the shadowed walls of the drawing room: ‘BREAKING NEWS.’ I didn't turn up the volume. I didn't need to hear the breathless anchors panting into their microphones. The bold, blinding white letters scrolling across the bottom of the display said everything my dark heart was longing to read:`STERLING CAPITAL GROUP UNDER FEDERAL INVESTIGATION. CHAIRMAN XAVIER ADRIAN NAMED IN MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR MONEY LAUNDERING AND FRAUD CONSPIRACY.`I stood frozen in the center of the cold marble floor, my fingers coiled so tightly around a crystal tumbler that the glass groaned under the pressure. Aerial cameras cut to live footage of Sterling Capital Tower…the towering glass monument where Xavier ruled like a god, now completely swarmed by dark federal sedans and flashing blue lights. SEC agents were carrying black executive binders out of the lobby, surrounded by a blinding sea of press cameras. A dark, intoxicating wave of heat ru

  • The taste Of Revenge   DARK STERLING

    The rain had finally stopped, leaving the brownstones of Upper West Side draped in a heavy, suffocating fog.I didn't go back to the penthouse anyway. I couldn't face the quiet…not anymore. I couldn't sit on that sofa and let Aurora rub my shoulders while the echo of Damon Holt's voice kept looping in my head. ‘Your operational authority is terminated.’"Pull over here, Taylor," I rasped, my voice sounding like gravel grinding together. The armored sedan glided to the curb outside a quiet, tree-lined avenue. No corporate skyscrapers. No glass towers…just old money, quiet streets, and the understated limestone building where Gerald had lived for fifteen years.Taylor looked at me in the rearview mirror, his dark eyes solemn. "Do you want me to come up with you, Sir Xavier?""No…no need for that." I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. My hands were steady now. Finally, they've become hard, cold, and numb again. "Wait here." I stepped out into the refreshing sun with my coat unbuttoned, my j

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