Confessed Novels & Stories

Cara was silent for a moment, then she spoke, her voice cold and distant. "That's convenient for you, isn't it? It suddenly lets you off the hook for any responsibility." She mocked. My eyelids tingle with unsteady tears "I'm not trying to do that," I said. "I just have no idea on what happened, but I don't think you had anything to do with it. I know you'd never do something like that." "You don't know anything!” Cara snapped. “I did it! I fucking did it!” She confessed.

I asked her calmly. "Yes. I've told you what you wanted to hear. Now let me go. I won't report you if you let me go. I know what I told you is painful, but it's the honest truth. All men are the same. They cheat, lie and have affairs. I'm sorry you had to be the victim. I didn't have a choice," she responded confidently. "Are you sure you don't want to change your confession? Do you stand by your words, Gwen Facer?" I asked her, raising my voice a little as my face contorted into a mask of fierceness.

I thought I would be able to present my case and apologize, acknowledging my wrong doing with confidence and strength of conviction. Now I fear it’s going to tumble out as a mess of excuses and tangled feelings. “Gloria?” Damian presses, his voice taking on a dominant tone. When I finally look up at him, tears pour from my lashes. “Ive still been doing the hypnosis.” I confess, my l!ps quivering with every word. “I went behind your back and convinced the others to help me.” Damian’s glowing emerald eyes bore into me as me.”

The dried wax that clung to the edge of my ribs. And the collar. I ran my fingers across it feeling not restrained, but claimed. Underneath the pillow, I found another card. Rest. Breathe. You're not broken. You're opened. When you're ready, write your next confession. There were no flowers. No demands. Just space. And the echo of everything we’d shared. Somewhere between heat and silence, I smiled. Because I wasn’t just a submissive anymore. I was a story unfolding. One confession at a time.

she said calmly, “it will be revealed, and you will remain exiled. But if you speak the truth, the moon will reveal that as well.” I stared out at the sea and looked into the waters to see my distorted reflection. For a moment I felt fear, not fear of the truth, but fear of being judged. That maybe everything I would say was not going to be honest. But then I inhaled deeply. “I acknowledge my past,” I began, my voice steady. “I was exiled under false judgment, punished for a crime I did not commit. I stand before the sea and the moon and confess that I had no hand in the attack of Damien Blackthorne. I did not harm him. I did not conspire against him. I did not wish him death.”

His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking. Damien looked at the cameras. His face was calm, he had made his peace with what he was about to do. "Ladies and gentlemen. I have a statement to make." The reporters leaned forward. The cameras zoomed in. "I am standing here today to confess to my crimes. I have been killed, I have conspired. I have obstructed justice. I have done things that I am not proud of." The reporters started shouting questions. Damien held up his hand. "Please. Let me finish."

This time I could hear the truth in his words, but I still wanted to let him know what I thought. “I really love it. But it makes me feel so,” I tried to find the word, “conflicted. Like what we are doing, it’s wrong.” I said with a steadier voice than before, louder. His eyes flashed to mine. “Because it is.” My mouth fell open at his confession, but no sound left it.

Instead, my knees completely buckled. I didn't march him to the door. My hands were shaking so violently I couldn't even grab his arm. The crushing weight of his confession—of his dark, terrifying betrayal—was a roaring fire inside my chest, burning away every drop of logic I possessed. I dropped straight to my knees on the cold hardwood floor right between his spread thighs. He raised a single, dark brow down at me, his expression shifting from mocking arrogance to deep, quiet surprise. ‘’Lyric—’’

It was the fear of someone who had carried a secret for so long that the truth had finally become more frightening than the lie. "I'm your father," he repeated quietly. I took a step backward. "No." "Melody—" "No!" My voice cracked. "Don't say my name like that. Don't stand there and tell me you're my father as if you've just told me the weather!" Clara remained beside the doorway, watching us. She didn't look surprised. That frightened me almost as much as Nick's confession. "You knew?" I asked her. She lifted her chin slightly. "I suspected."

***** I think I know why he’s here at this time and to be honest, I don't wanna hear it Anyways that’s all for today’s Confession. I hope to see you next time.