All Chapters of Shadows of Desire: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

There was something hypnotic about fire when it belonged to someone’s hands.The main stage was alive with flickering light, shadows dancing up the velvet walls as flames curled and bent to the will of their wielders. The audience hushed, even the usual background hum of Elysium stilled, as if every soul in the club collectively held its breath.Jennifer, regal as ever in crimson leather, stood at the centre, her voice smooth and commanding.“Fire,” she purred, holding up a lit wand, its tip glowing like a molten jewel, “is not a toy. It is a dance partner. Treat it with respect, and it will kiss you. Treat it carelessly, and it will consume you.”The crowd leaned forward.I pressed against the balcony railing, Victor’s hand resting at the small of my back. His presence was grounding, but the flames below stirred my pulse into quick, nervous rhythms.Jennifer gestured to her demo subject—a submissive who lay calmly on the padded table, their chest bare, body glistening faintly with pr

My locker had become a place of dread. Once, it was just a metal box where I stashed my notebook and the heels I couldn’t stand to wear home. Now it felt like a stage set for a private theater of fear—red envelopes, hidden photos, and tonight… a single folded note.I saw it before I even touched the handle. White paper, tucked through the vent slats, fluttering slightly with the draft. My pulse raced as I pulled it free.The handwriting was jagged, scrawled in black ink, stark against the page:“Someone knows your secret.”The words seemed to glow. My chest constricted.I stood frozen, the hum of Elysium fading, the music downstairs muffled and unreal. A rush of nausea clawed through me. They knew. Not just about the photos. Not just about my new contract with Victor. They knew about me. About my notes. My article. The reason I’d come here in the first place.I gripped the paper tighter, crumpling the edges. My lungs burned as if the note itself was choking me.“Cassie?”Victor’s voic

The club was quieter than usual, the music dimmed, the floor was almost empty. But in Victor’s office, the air was a storm.I hadn’t meant to overhear. I was coming to bring him coffee—just an excuse to see him after a long night of watching others play—but when I reached the half-open door, voices clashed sharp as whips.Jennifer’s voice, rich and biting: “You control everything, Victor. Every rule, every protocol, every little detail as if Elysium would collapse without your iron hand.”Victor’s reply was low, thunderous. “Because without order, it would collapse.”I froze, one hand on the doorframe, heart pounding. I should have turned away, but I couldn’t. Their words pulled me in like a dangerous flame.Jennifer laughed—cold, bitter. “No, Victor. It isn’t the order you’re after. It’s control. Always control. Over the club, over the members, over me.”There was silence, thick and weighted, before Victor’s voice came again. “You mistake discipline for domination, Jennifer. Without

Lena used to find me before I found her. She’d appear on the balcony like a shadow with a smile, slipping little comments in my ear about who was watching whom, or which Dominant had surprised everyone with tenderness after a scene. She was my confidante in those first nights, the one who made the glittering strangeness of Elysium feel less overwhelming.But lately, she had become a ghost.I noticed it first in the small things. She didn’t sit with me on the balcony anymore. She lingered in corners, her eyes darting when I tried to catch her gaze. She laughed less. She touched her phone more.And then tonight, when I went looking for her, I found her slipping into one of the back corridors reserved for staff.“Lena?” I called softly.She froze. Her shoulders tensed before she turned, her face bright with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Cassie! Didn’t see you there.”My heart pinched. “You’ve been avoiding me.”Her smile faltered. “No, I’ve just been… busy. Helping Jennifer

The council chamber in Elysium wasn’t used often. It was a quiet room, set apart from the play floors, with polished mahogany walls and a long oval table surrounded by leather chairs. I’d never been inside before tonight, but I could feel the gravity of it immediately. This wasn’t a space for spectacle—it was a space for judgment.Victor sat at the head of the table, his presence commanding as ever. The silver in his dark hair gleamed under the dim light, his posture taut but deliberate. Around him sat the senior figures of the club—Jennifer in a crimson dress that cut like a blade, Marco with his easy smile muted into something sharper, Andre the dungeon monitor, Nadia and Rafael side by side.And me—curled near Victor’s right hand, aware of how out of place I looked among the veterans. But his hand rested lightly over mine beneath the table, anchoring me.Victor’s voice was steady when he began. “We have a problem. Two recorders have been discovered in private rooms. Photos have sur