Back Rooms Novels & Stories

The maid – as if reading her mind- replied pointing to the back of the mansion and she tried not to look surprised. “Rooms? Wing? ” Isadora failed to mask her surprise. “His chambers, his office, and his… gym. ” Becky replied , pausing at the last part. “Ahh , I see.” Isadora replied and they headed back to the dining room on their way back from the garden. They had spent a better part of the morning sight seeing because everything in the residence was a sight to behold.

Wait here for me, I'll be back" he instructed and left. He arrived and went towards the door at the other end of hallway. He pushed it opened and led the way into the dark room. He flipped the light switch on and I looked around the grande space. It was very familiar to the ancient libraries; ceiling length shelves filled with a lot of books, opposite the shelf at the other end of the room contained a cabinet that was constructed from glass and had a lot of weapons, dangerous weapons if I may add locked up in them which only fueled my curiosity about who Riccardo was.

she whines. "Okay, okay. If you have any other problems, feel free to call." With the close of the door, exits her sigh. Looking sideways, what she sees is light blue.

The thought made my hand shake, and the cake fork slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor. I was about to pick it up, but Jerry was already on his way out. "Pack business came up. I'll drive you another time," he said, then he was gone. Alone, I headed to the clinic on crutches. Somehow, I felt all those eyes on me, heavy with pity. On my way to the medication room to grab some medication, I overheard whispers from inside.

“Something needs to be done about the front entrance. It's good for business, yes, it helps cover our tracks. But you know how much I hate bumping into people.” Paul scratched the back of his head before speaking. “We already talked about this, boss. The back entrance is the only logical solution. We can't do anything about the number of people who come here every day. They're helping us even without knowing it, which is the perfect way to cover our tracks.” I nodded, deciding that he was right after all. “Well, back door it is then.” Paul nodded, then walked to a part of the wall, which was familiar to everyone in the room alone. Touching a book on the shelf, the wall, which was actually an

The back door. I walked down the narrow, gravel alleyway, my heels crunching in the silence. As I rounded the corner, I froze. The back lot wasn't empty. There were four or five high-end cars parked there—black SUVs with tinted windows and a sleek Italian sports car that looked like it cost a fortune. I wondered what went on in this place at night. This wasn't just a sex shop; it was a front for something much deeper, much more exclusive. I was totally sure of that.

Though I let him take me home, it was a surprisingly silent journey, as opposed to when he persistently tried to come up with things to talk about. But this was fine too, as it afforded me some peace and quiet. Just as I was about to return to my room, Mark asked behind me, "You're not actually working overtime, are you?" "Nope," I admitted. Misery showed in his eyes. "I've actually seen you going to the library every day after work and returning to your office at eight when I come to pick you up… because I would go to your office an hour earlier to wait." I remained completely unaffected despite Mark's obvious misery, while his eyes were getting teary because my coldness hurt him.

I slipped out of the theater before the movie even ended. After making sure no one was following me, I wandered around until nightfall before finally taking the bus home. On the road leading back to Briarwood Manor, I suddenly noticed a long shadow stretched across the ground. Nathaniel was smoking under the moonlight, his face hidden in the dark. I turned on my heel and headed straight for the Brown residence. As soon as I pushed the door open, I saw Catherine flaunting the things she'd gotten with him that day.

Mandy didn't hesitate, quickly occupying the largest guest room right beside the master bedroom. Following that, piles of luxury packaging boxes frequently littered the living room. A designer bag today, a pair of limited-edition high heels tomorrow, and a set of high-end skincare products ordered the day after. Every time it came to payment, she would smile and say to Heidi. "Mr. Tucker will be a big shot in the future. This bit of money is nothing." Meanwhile, Harrison was being driven insane by debt collection calls. Overdue credit card reminders popped up one after another, and the banks continuously pressured him for repayment.

She was preparing to deliver her final killing blow, urging the courts to make an example of me, the social degenerate. Then it happened. The giant screen behind her flickered. Without warning, the giant LCD screen behind her flickered and changed. Her tear-streaked face disappeared from the screen. A black player interface took its place. Moments later, a crystal-clear audio recording blared through the speakers, reaching every corner of the hall and every livestream. The voices in the recording belonged to two people.