Controlling

Shantali Mae Cross, a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Ancient Arts, encounters an impossible phenomenon during her night shift—smoke from the heating vents coalesces into the form of a cobra near ancient Egyptian canopic jars, showing her visions of possible futures. She sees herself accepting a promotion, arguing with a dark-haired man in a hospital, wearing a wedding dress, and standing at a graveside in autumn. Shaken by the experience, Shantali becomes obsessed with understanding what she witnessed, diving into research about serpent smoke divination practices. Her investigation reveals that others throughout history have experienced similar visions at crucial crossroads in their lives, but those who became consumed with interpreting and controlling their prophetic glimpses inevitably destroyed the very relationships and opportunities the visions had shown them. As Shantali spirals deeper into her research, she begins shutting out her boyfriend David, a fellow security guard who loves her deeply. When David witnesses the cobra phenomenon himself, he helps ground her in reality rather than obsession. Through her studies, particularly the warnings left by Dr. Amelia Thorne—a researcher who died alone after chasing similar mysteries—Shantali realizes the cobra's true message: choose love over fear, presence over obsession. The visions weren't warnings of tragedy but glimpses of a life fully lived with all its ordinary struggles and profound connections. When David proposes, Shantali chooses their real relationship over her pursuit of supernatural answers. She completes her research by writing a fictional novel about her experience, transforming obsession into art while helping future cobra witnesses understand that some mysteries are meant to guide rather than be solved. The story explores themes of choice versus destiny, the danger of sacrificing present love for future certainty, and the wisdom of embracing life's uncertainties alongside those who love us.

His gaze met mine, intense and possessive, his lips just an inch away as his lips left my nipple. “Say it, Erica,” he commanded, voice rough. “Say that you belong to me.” I swallowed, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might drown out my thoughts. He held me tightly, his fingers pressing into my skin as if trying to claim every inch of me, refusing to let me escape. “I... I don’t,” I whispered, my voice barely steady, the denial weak even to my own ears. He gave me a dark smile, then continued, his mouth finding my other breast. He sucked lightly, his other hand gripping my waist, making it clear he didn’t plan on letting go. His tongue drew imaginary circles around my nipple, his teeth nipping at my sensitive bud before he sucked it whole again like a starved man. “You don’t?” he murmured against my skin. “Then why haven’t you stopped me?” I opened my mouth to protest, but only a soft sound escaped, my hands tightening on his shoulders as he kept pushing, each suck and touch breaking down my defenses. I let out an ear splitting moan, “Raffael please…” *********** Erica’s world is shattered when she’s forced into a dangerous deal with Raffael Greco, the ruthless crime boss who now owns her. By day, she’s his maid, and by night, she works in his strip club—her body no longer her own. Drawn to the ruthless man who both torments and ignites her, Erica can’t resist the tension simmering between them. Raffael, obsessed with controlling her, finds himself slowly losing control instead. Can Erica survive being Raffael's sinful desire, or will his desires destroy her before she can escape?

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.