Novel & Cerita Confessions Of A Shopaholic

“Fuck me. Just this once. If you don’t like it, we can pretend it never happened. You won’t tell anyone I’m Lady Inferno, and I won’t tell anyone you peek at me, okay? Just… fuck me.” A soft scoff escaped me at her words, and before I could stop myself, a slow smile stretched across my lips. Not amused. Not pleased. Just bewildered. This woman was insane. Sure, she was younger than my father, only seven years older than me but she was lusting after her own stepson… the same way I had been lusting after her. I shook my head, lost for words, but then a question slipped out before I could stop it. “Why did you become a pornstar? Your husband’s rich. I bet he gives you everything you want so why

We collapsed against the desk, panting, sweat-slicked and spent. But as I caught my breath, reality crept back in. The hospital bills. The contract. The thirty days. I’d sold myself to save my mother, but what was I losing in the process? My dignity? My soul? Or was I discovering something else entirely—something dark and hungry within me that only Alexander could unleash?

She spoke to the driver and he agreed and it was settled. First, we went shopping at the mall. Clothes, bags, shoes, make-up _ everything _ Ivy bought it all. She was a shopaholic. I forgot for a while and I rarely ever went with her in the past because I had to take care of Melody and I was broke. Even as time passed, no matter how many times I tried, I always felt guilty about shopping. Shopping was one of those things you couldn't stop once you started. I couldn't afford to have addictions or fantasies with Melody in my life. But that was so depressing that I chose to think that I didn't like shopping instead.

She giggled,"Wow, harsh. So no special perks for the boss’s son, huh?" "Nope. In fact, I think they watch me even more closely. You have no idea how many times I've been scolded for sneaking an extra dessert from the kitchen.” Vivian's eyes widened as she held back laughter."Wait, extra desserts? What’s the worst thing you’ve been caught with?” I sighed dramatically. "One time, I was this close to making a clean getaway with a whole chocolate cake." She burst into laughter. "Not the ‘Chocolate Cake Heist.’ Did you get caught mid-escape?”

“You’re one to talk. You were practically forcing me into this marriage.” I ran my fingers through my hair, struggling to keep my temper in check. “Not only did you steal your sister’s identity, but you also planned our kidnapping. How much are you gaining from all this, huh?” Henessy sighed deeply and met my gaze. Despite my anger, my pulse quickened from that small insignificant gesture. “If you want an apology, I’ll give it. But don’t accuse me of things I didn’t know about .” “Oh, of course you didn’t know,” I said coldly. “Just like you didn’t know about the guy you met at my club, or how you didn’t know when you spread your legs like a freaking cheap whore-”

“Literally two weeks ago.” “Which is exactly,” she replied, sliding out of bed in silk pajamas she did not pay for herself, “why I deserve retail therapy.” Jace covered the mouthpiece to shout at someone, something about encryption and datapackets, then came back: “You don’t shop. You steal, hack, and hit people in the face with champagne bottles.” “That was one time,” Elena lied. It was at least six times. She continued, pacing, hair messy, energy restless: “I want clothes. Shoes. A new watch. Something stupidly expensive I’ll never wear. I want to blow Roman’s wallet and make the stock market cry.”

Harper’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Asia smirked. "You could at least try. You've gotten the trick of getting him to some things. Aren’t you tired of playing personal shopper for all his flings?" Harper groaned, leaning back in her chair. "Don’t remind me. I’ve bought more perfume, jewelry, and designer bags than I can count. Sometimes I think I should open a gift shop. Call it Gifts for Girlfriends You’ll Forget in a Week." Asia laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink. "Or, How to Impress a Woman Without Committing to Her!"

The prettiest girl in school came from a low‑income family and always struggled with insecurity. To build up her confidence, every boy in our class bent over backward to give her whatever she wanted. Right before college entrance exams, she pointed at me and said, "I'll never be smart enough to get into the same school as Ivy." The boys locked me away on exam day, all so a girl who ranked last in class could end up at the same school as me. "Bree can't take another blow to her self‑esteem. You're smart enough that one gap year won't hurt you. You could still get into a top university next year. But this year, you have to match her score." I fought with everything I had to reach the exam

The Woman in the Photograph “Don’t ask me that.” Nick's voice was barely above a whisper. I stared at him. For five years, I had believed I knew this man. I had trusted him with everything. My fears. My plans. My memories. Even my mother's memory. Now I wasn't sure if I knew him at all. “You said you were going to tell me the truth,” I said. Nick looked away. “I said I would try.” “No.” My voice shook.

“Please, I need to cum.” “Not yet.” His eyes are dark, predatory, nothing like the gentle priest I’ve watched at mass. “You wanted to confess, little lamb. So confess. Tell me everything you’ve done while thinking about me.” “I touched myself.” I’m squirming in his lap, desperate for friction he won’t give me. “Every night after mass.” “How?” His fingers move just slightly inside me, a tease. “Show me what you did.” “I have things. In my bedroom.” My face heats even as my body throbs. “Things I used while thinking about you.”