Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 111 - Chapitre 120

The apartment was quiet again, but the silence wasn’t the same anymore.Two nights ago, she had walked into this penthouse as a desperate tenant. Now, she moved through it with his touch stamped all over her skin.She stood in the kitchen, wearing one of his shirts that barely reached the tops of her thighs. The hem brushed against her skin with every step. She told herself it didn’t mean anything. She told herself it was temporary. But the truth wrapped around her tighter than fabric.The coffee machine hissed softly on the counter. The city stretched out beyond the glass walls. She almost felt normal. Almost.Until she saw the paper on the island.She picked it up slowly. His handwriting was sharp, controlled. A list of rules.1. No locking doors.2. Wear what I want when we’re home.3. If I touch, you don’t pull away.4. You come when I tell you to.5. Don’t pretend to forget who’s in control.Her stomach twisted. She read the list twice, but her hands didn’t shake. Not anymore.Th

The palace at night was quieter than a church. The stone halls swallowed sound, the air heavy with candle smoke and secrets.She walked barefoot this time, the hem of her nightdress brushing her ankles. She had tried to pretend after what happened in the princess’s chamber. She had tried to work as if nothing had changed. But she had felt the princess’s fingers long after she returned to her room. The scent of silk and skin still clung to her like a bruise.When the bell from the royal wing rang again, she knew.The servants only used that bell for emergencies. The princess used it for her.She followed the glow of the lanterns to the bathhouse at the far end of the palace. The heavy wooden door was cracked open, warm steam spilling out like mist.Inside, the air smelled like rose water and heat.The royal bath stretched out like a shallow pool, all marble and gold edges. Candles burned along the walls, casting the water in soft golden light. The princess was already inside, submerged

The palace slept under a velvet night.The grand corridor that led to the throne room was empty, save for the soft echo of her bare feet against the polished stone. She had been summoned again. No bell this time. Just a guard with a single message: the princess wants you.Her heart beat faster with every step she took. She knew the palace too well by now, every turn and hidden corner, every hour when it went silent like a held breath.The throne room doors loomed ahead, heavy and tall, carved with golden vines and crests. She pushed them open slowly.The room was dim. Only the torches along the walls flickered softly, lighting the massive throne at the center. The princess sat upon it, legs crossed, wearing nothing but a long sheer nightgown that pooled around her like water. A golden crown sat crooked on her head, not the formal one, but the one she wore when she wanted to play with power in private.The sight of her like this made heat crawl under the servant’s skin.“Close the door

The clock struck midnight.The city outside glittered like a quiet witness, lights spilling into the penthouse through the glass walls. She walked down the hallway with bare feet, the silk of her short night robe whispering against her skin.The men were where she knew they would be. In the living room. Always ready. Always watching.They stood when she entered. Their movements were instinctive. Trained. She liked that. The way they straightened at the sight of her. The way their eyes darkened just enough.She didn’t say a word. She walked past them slowly, her robe falling slightly open with each step. The air changed around them, thickening with heat.“Sit,” she said softly.They obeyed immediately, each taking their position on the couches facing her. Four predators, silent and waiting.She stood at the center of the room and untied the silk belt around her waist. The robe fell open. A lace bodysuit clung to her like liquid darkness, leaving her legs bare, her breasts barely covere

The training room beneath the estate smelled faintly of leather and steel. It was meant for drills, combat practice, shooting exercises. But tonight, she had decided it would be used for something else entirely.The floor was polished black, mirrors on one side, racks of equipment on the other. No windows. No one but them.The four men stood in a line at the center of the room, dressed in fitted black training pants, their bodies tense beneath the harsh overhead light. She entered barefoot, wearing a thin silk slip that clung to every curve of her body like a second skin. Her hair was up, exposing the long line of her neck.She paced slowly in front of them, like a predator circling its prey.“Do you know what I like about this room?” she said softly. “Down here, no one hears anything.”Her words slid through the air, hot and dangerous.“You’ve tasted me,” she continued, walking closer. “You’ve touched me. You’ve come for me. But tonight isn’t about pleasure. It’s about control. Mine.