All Chapters of Taboo: Ties and Sins : Chapter 151 - Chapter 157

The morning light invaded Savanah's kitchen, relentless and clear. It was a space that resembled a laboratory or a minimalist art gallery more than a place where food was prepared. Everything was stainless steel, matte black granite, and unobstructed surfaces. The glass jars aligned with millimetric precision in the pantry held spices that looked like geological samples, not ingredients. Not a knife was out of place, nor a stain on the polished concrete floor. It was the realm of absolute control, a physical extension of Savanah's own mind.And at that moment, this realm was under siege.She stood before the central counter, an oak board in front of her. Perfect slices of golden beet, finely grated fresh horseradish, and a filet of gravlax salmon she had cured personally for 48 hours were arranged like the elements of a painting yet to be composed. It was meant to be a new *amuse-bouche*: a rye cracker with a base of fromage blanc and dill, crowned with the salmon, the beet, and a tou

The metallic groan of the heavy door shutting behind her was like the sound of a cell being locked. A final sound, severing the connection to the outside world, to rules, to safety. Savanah stood still for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the gloom.The loft was a universe of its own. The ceiling, lost in the heights, was supported by rusty steel beams. Immense windows, checkered like those of an old factory, let in the ghostly light from the streetlamps, painting pale stripes on the stained, worn concrete floor. The air was dense, charged with a symphony of primitive scents: the sweet, musty odor of aged wood, the pungent smell of machine oil, the penetrating metallic tang of iron, and, beneath it all, an earthy note of damp clay and peat.It was chaos. An organized chaos, or perhaps merely tolerated. Sculptures covered with white sheets rose like gigantic ghosts, their hidden forms suggesting slumbering bodies. Heavy workbenches were cluttered with tools she couldn't name—sanders, bl

The loft was plunged into a calculated half-light. The wall sconces remained on, casting golden, oblique beams that cut through the vast space, turning sculptures into elongated shadows and walls into canvases of dramatic texture. Dinner was over, but the taste of wine and the unresolved tension still hung in the air. Between them, their breathing seemed louder than the silence, warmer than the cold, raw expanse of the room.Savanah walked beside Sebastian, her heels marking an irregular rhythm on the polished concrete floor. With each step, she felt her heart accelerate, not from fear, but from an anticipation that seemed to swell from within, overwhelming her with an impossible urgency. He guided her without speaking, just with a firm hand at the small of her back, pressing her lightly forward, leading her toward the more open area of the loft.The low sofa was there, an almost insolent invitation, but Sebastian did not hurry toward it. Instead, he stopped her before one of the conc

The late afternoon sky painted the mansion's windows with deep, almost liquid orange tones that dripped down the immaculate white walls as if luxury itself were breathing. The automatic gate closed behind Lucas with a metallic boom that echoed briefly, imposingly.He entered with firm steps, though anxiety danced beneath his skin, pulsing in discreet beads of sweat at his temple. His sports bag slid comfortably on his back, an almost light weight compared to what awaited him. His simple uniform—a very tight black t-shirt, outlining his muscular chest, and shorts that exposed his firm thighs—seemed less like work clothes and more like a disguise of seductive armor.He had never set foot in a house like that, imposing, silent, with an air of a luxurious temple where power was worshiped in every detail. Luck had not brought him there. Nothing about it was chance. His profile had been chosen with almost surgical precision: young, healthy, handsome. And most importantly... obedient.Lucas