Todos os capítulos de Whispers of Submission (Whispers #1) : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

The room Asher had prepared for her was small but cozy, with soft blue curtains and a vintage dresser that still held the scent of old cedar. Cassie stood by the window for a moment, looking out into the quiet night, the stars scattered like silver dust across the sky. She was tired, no, spent, her muscles sore from the day’s activities, her mind stretched thin by memory and emotion. But for the first time in days, the heaviness in her chest had eased. The house had been filled with laughter again. Her friends were near. And her brother had done more than she could ask to make her feel welcome. She ran a warm bath, letting the water ease into her skin, soft and calming. The scent of lavender rose from the bubbles, lulling her deeper into a state of relaxation. When she emerged, she slipped into cotton pajamas, deep red, a shade she hadn’t worn in years, and crawled under the duvet. Her head barely touched the pillow before sleep claimed her. The room was the same, and yet it wasn’t

By midday, the house felt a little lighter. The boxes were sealed, the photo albums sorted, and the attic emptied of its haunting fragments. Cassie stood in the hallway, her arms folded as she looked around the now-barren space. The emptiness wasn’t just physical; it echoed somewhere deep inside her. Emily popped her head into the hall, her ponytail swaying. “All set in the back room. Found like six vases. I kept the prettiest one in case you want it for flowers or something.” Sarah appeared behind her, dust smudged on her cheek. “I vote we never do this again. My back is killing me.” Cassie chuckled softly. “Thanks, guys. Really.” "Anytime," the girls chorused As they stepped outside into the bright afternoon, Asher’s car was already waiting at the curb. He stood beside it, chatting with Ken, his driver. When he spotted the girls, he waved them over and opened the trunk. “Got everything?” he asked. “Emotionally or physically?” Sarah asked, tossing her duffel into the back. Ash

The house was too quiet the next morning.Not the peaceful kind of quiet. The kind that echoed, pressed against the walls, and slipped beneath the skin. The kind of quiet that reminded you something was missing.Cassie stood in the hallway just outside her bedroom, staring at the urn on the mantel. The purple shimmered faintly in the morning light, still and perfect. Too perfect. Too final.She didn’t cry. Not yet. She felt… muted.Sarah appeared from the kitchen, holding a mug of tea. “Hey,” she said softly. “You okay?”Cassie nodded but didn’t say anything.Sarah didn’t push. She just offered the tea and squeezed Cassie’s arm before returning to the kitchen where Emily was flipping through a local paper. The two exchanged a look over Cassie’s head; one of concern, but also quiet determination.By noon, the silence had thickened, and Cassie was curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the television with the volume turned down.Emily finally set the paper aside. “Alright,” she anno

Sunlight poured into the kitchen like honey; warm and slow. Cassie sat on a stool by the counter, her hair damp from the shower, cradling a mug of coffee that had long since gone cold. She was stirring it absently when Asher walked in, dressed in his usual muted suit and looking like he hadn’t slept much. She looked up just as he loosened his tie. “Rough morning?” “You could say that. I had trouble with some client.” He dropped his briefcase on the island with a sigh. “And Reggie called.” Cassie straightened, hopeful. “Yeah?” He shook his head. “He’s canceling tomorrow’s meeting.” Her shoulders sank a little. “Oh.” “He’s flying out to Singapore. Emergency board meeting. Apparently something went south with one of his Southeast Asia branches.” Cassie stared down into her coffee. “Right. Makes sense. CEOs and their global matters.” “He said to tell you he’s still very interested in meeting you. Claimed that sound sharp, grounded, and ‘refreshingly unpolished,’” Asher added with a

He closed the shower curtain and walked towards the bed. He sat at the edge, bare-chested and still, the soft hush of the candlelight flickering across the darkened room. The scent of her still lingered; jasmine and skin, and something deeper that didn’t quite have a name. It filled the air like music you couldn’t unhear, even after it stopped playing. She was gone. The door had closed with the gentlest click behind her, and silence had returned like an old friend. His mask lay discarded on the nightstand. The crimson tie hung off the back of a chair. Around him, the room had returned to its careful stillness; clean linens, leather cuffs tucked neatly into drawers, candles flickering steadily in their holders. But inside him, everything felt… different. She had come back. He hadn’t expected her to ask for him. The first time she’d walked into The Forbidden, to her room, he had known immediately she didn’t belong in this world, at least not yet. Too careful. Too quiet. Like someone