บททั้งหมดของ Shadows of Desire: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

When Victor told me the next demonstration would take place in the “infirmary,” I almost laughed. Elysium was built for opulence, for shadows and silk—not for white walls and exam tables. But when I stepped through the door, my chest tightened.The room was transformed into a clinical fantasy. Bright lights glared down on a polished steel table, cabinets lined with labeled bottles, and a heart monitor that beeped faintly for atmosphere. A tray of instruments gleamed in the light—stainless steel speculums, latex gloves, even a stethoscope coiled like a serpent.My throat closed. Hospitals had always been my private nightmare. My mother’s long illness, the endless sterile visits, the smell of antiseptic that clung to my hair when I was a child—I’d carried it with me like a scar.I hesitated at the threshold.Dr. Elise Chen looked up from adjusting her gloves. She was poised and elegant, her black hair pulled into a neat bun, her expression calm but commanding. In her day life, she was a

I wasn’t supposed to overhear. But in Elysium, secrets had a way of finding me—even when I wasn’t looking for them.I’d gone to the lounge late, craving the quiet. My notebook was tucked under my arm, but writing was the last thing on my mind. My thoughts were still tangled in the discovery of the hidden cameras, the way Victor’s fury smoldered behind his calm. I wanted stillness, but instead, I found voices raised in the corridor outside Jennifer’s private chambers.Leo’s voice—sharper than I’d ever heard it.“Who were you meeting, Jennifer?”I froze.Jennifer’s laugh followed, low and smooth, but not amused. “Careful, darling. You’re starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend.”Leo’s reply cut through the silence like a lash. “Don’t turn this into a game. I saw you. Twice this week. Slipping out, always with that same look. Who is it?”My pulse quickened. I crept closer, standing just beyond the curtain that divided the hall.Jennifer’s heels clicked against the floor as she moved.

Victor chose the one room that had never been touched by Elysium’s eyes—his private playroom in the penthouse, the one he swore he swept himself after Marco’s latest discoveries. Before we began, he made a simple show of it, passing a slim detector along the vents and crown molding, pausing by the sconces, the mirror, the heavy velvet drapes. The device stayed quiet, its little green light unblinking.“For tonight,” he said, turning off the scanner and setting it aside, “we let the world fall away.” He looked at me the way he does when he’s about to take the reins—except tonight, he wouldn’t. “And you,” he added, voice softer, “will not be my submissive.”The words landed like a bell struck in my chest—bright, thrilling, a little terrifying.“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted, palms damp. “Not like you do.”“Of course you don’t,” he said, stepping closer, thumbs brushing the inside of my wrists, warming the chill there. “That’s why we practice. That’s why I’m here.”I tried for

The first whisper reached me on the balcony.I’d just adjusted the new collar around my neck, still not used to the weight of it, when Lena came rushing up the steps, her eyes wide. She pressed her phone into my hands without a word.At first, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. The grainy clip showed a dim room, candlelit, the familiar outlines of one of Elysium’s private chambers. A couple moved in rhythm—a Dominant’s voice low and commanding, a submissive’s cry soft and full of surrender. It wasn’t explicit in the vulgar sense; it was intimate, vulnerable.And yet… it was online. Public.“Oh my God,” I whispered, my stomach twisting.Lena’s voice shook. “It’s Rafael and Nadia. One of their private scenes. Someone filmed it.”I couldn’t breathe. Rafael and Nadia were pillars of Elysium—married, seasoned, endlessly generous with their guidance. They were the kind of couple everyone looked to for stability, for wisdom. To see their private intimacy stolen like this felt like watchi

Marco found me in the library lounge after hours, when most of the club had emptied and the air smelled of leather, wax, and a faint trace of espresso. I’d curled myself in a chair with my notebook—pretending to write, but mostly staring at blank pages.He slid into the chair opposite me with his usual grin, but tonight it was thinner, stretched over something sharper. His fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the armrest.“You’re brooding, kitten,” he teased, his voice low enough not to carry.I arched a brow. “Says the man pacing in his chair.”He chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Touché. But I didn’t come here for banter. I came because I think I’ve found something.”My pulse quickened. “Something… about the devices?”His grin vanished. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping to a whisper. “Patterns. You know how Victor and I catalogued when each recorder and camera was discovered?”“Yes.”“Well, I cross-referenced them with shift logs—staff, dungeon monitors, e