Dark Confessions Novels & Stories

Every night, when he touched me, I saw Robert's face instead. Until one night, consumed by guilt and the need for a new start. I finally confessed. I told him everything. What I had expected was for him to hold me, to confirm me, to reassure me that I was safe. What I hadn't expected was for him to slaughter Robert right in front of my eyes. Along with the police men who ruled the case shut.

he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. Camila's eyes widened, but she complied, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth. His tongue tasted like local gin. She could feel the other two watching, their breaths heavy with anticipation. The man with the dark eyes unzipped his pants, his erection springing free. "My turn," he growled, pushing his way into her mouth. Camila moaned, the sound muffled by the flesh filling her mouth. She was a detective and is suppose to arrest these criminals, but here she was fucking them instead.

His voice dropped. “If he buried the truth once…” A pause. “…then I’ll expose what he’s hiding now.” The Question That night— I found him alone. Standing in the dark. “…Dominic.” He turned. I stepped closer. “…Why did you confess?” Silence. He didn’t answer. “…If you didn’t do it…” My voice trembled slightly— But I didn’t back down. “…then why take the blame?” His gaze softened. Just slightly.

My hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped the keys. Once I got inside, I slammed the door and started the engine. Tears blurred my vision as I drove out of the compound. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had just seen. Rafael… and Mimi. My chest tightened painfully. I loved Rafael with all my heart. I had trusted him completely. And yet he had betrayed me with my own sister. The thought made my stomach twist. I pressed harder on the gas until I finally stopped in front of a crowded club. The loud music spilling out of the building made my head pound, but I didn’t care.

My eyes fluttered open to darkness, a seering pain slicing through my head as I shut my eyes with a sharp hiss. I tried again but darkness… then I felt it, wetness and cold. The events of whatever the fucking time it all happened, came crashing down! Shit! Big Cee and I had stolen some stash from a big mogul at the club… just realizing right now, that it was the biggest mistakes of our lives. We had fucked around with the wrong person! This man had found us in a matter of minutes if I am not exaggerating and the rest is history.

Footsteps walked into the living room, and I raised my head slowly, my throat tightening when I met his gaze. The intensity, the burning desire, the way his eyes darkened with something forbidden like he wouldn’t hesitate to take me right there. My pulse stumbled, my heart betrayed me, and my composure threatened to slip away. Damien stepped forward, his eyes on me the whole time without sparing a glance at Caterina. She faced him, but he didn’t look away, not even for a second. Standing a few away, his lips parted to speak, words that further fueled my uneasiness and anxiety.

He swiftly gathered his bag of ill-gotten gains and exited the premises, leaving Dolph and me alone to face the aftermath. The room was filled with a palpable tension as Dolph's words hung in the air. It was as if time had frozen, allowing his confession to sink deep into my consciousness. The weight of his actions bore down on me, intertwining our destinies in a sinister embrace. His gaze bore into my soul, seeking validation, understanding, or perhaps absolution. I struggled to comprehend the depths of his motivations, the twisted logic that led him down this treacherous path. Yet, despite the darkness that consumed him, there was a flicker of vulnerability, a glimmer of regret that danced

“Natalie’s my girlfriend and you’re not going to ever mention our encounter to her.” I yanked my arms away. ”And if I do? She’d be pleased to hear that you denied her" His face laced with worry, as he moved his head in restlessness. I continued “or no! Maybe I should tell her how you graced my bed and promised to never let me go.” "Does she even know what you do?" A massage therapist? Encountering different women? “I’m also a web designer” he snapped. His defense, trying to get in the way.

The penthouse was dark, save for the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the floor to ceiling windows. The skyline shimmered with silver and gold as if mocking the shadows that had settled inside. Damian sat alone at his desk, the untouched glass of whiskey sweating beside a pile of damning documents. His reflection stared back at him from the dark windowpane, a distorted image of a man who looked nothing like the one the world believed him to be. His eyes burned from hours of staring at the pages, but no matter how many times he read the words, the gnawing weight in his chest only grew heavier. Each paragraph was a knife, each signature a carefully crafted blade twisting deeper

His father knowing his son used to be scared of darkness, dry and vacant places. That’s how his father decided to punish that little boy, wherever he wished something from his father, he used to lock him over in a room which he named it ‘a darkroom’, he scared him way too much that whenever somebody asked him if his father is treating him badly, he could only think of his own shouts and plead to his father. Never dared to tell anyone about a single abuse. Brandon knew if he opened his mouth and his father got to listen to complaints against himself, he would be a dead man by the next day.