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Cold. I pressed my hand over my mouth to muffle a cough from the thick air. Carefully stepping back, my heel hit something. A shelf. A loud thud hit the floor behind me. “Damn it…” I muttered under my breath, fumbling to pull out my phone. I turned on the flashlight and aimed it toward the object. It was a book. Old. Worn. A diary. I bent down and picked it up. The name on the first page stopped my breath cold.

UNKNOWN DIARYYY, Just her mere presence in my vicinity, and I can already feel myself becoming strongerrr. I saw her naked body today, Diary… she was taking a shower, wanted to get rid of all the dirt she had on her from packing or so she said. I could see her through the walls, Diary —lots of demons like me do this to unsuspecting girls all over the world who manage to catch our attention, you know? — And you have no idea how I wished she could sense my presence, but I’m not that strong yet!

He mused. It was understandable that it might belong to Zoriana, Liam's girlfriend. But what Owen couldn't understand was how it happened to be in Liam's custody, afterall people keep diaries for their own personal interest, to keep their secrets and he didn't think Zori would keep a diary if she had wanted the world to know what's in it. Not restraining himself any longer, he flip over to the next page and while reading through, he got stunned on discovering its content. DEAR Future Husband,

“Oh, you guys are not going to believe this. Our little spy is a massive freak.” I adjusted my posture, holding the diary up to the ambient light of the limo. “‘If he pushed me against the bookshelves, I wouldn’t even fight back,’” I read, my voice dripping with dark amusement. “‘I want him to take control. I want him to rip this stupid sweater off me. I can practically feel his hands gripping my thighs, bruising my skin, pushing his huge dick inside my tight and wet aching pussy while he whispers my name…’”

“What mai—” The words died as I followed her gaze. A plain brown envelope lay beside her boot. My brows snapped together. “Who the hell dropped this?” I muttered, crouching to snatch it up. We never got mail. Not bills, not flyers, nothing. Wrong house, I almost decided until I flipped it over and saw the two words scrawled in precise black ink across the front: To Little Thief. My heart did a sickening flip. Little Thief. Only one person had ever called me that.

If Tariq discovered it outside that room, he would know I had read it, and there would be no escaping his wrath. I moved quickly and slipped into a pair of jeans and a sweater before making my way back into the bathroom. I reached behind the cabinet. My fingers brushed over the diary's worn leather cover. I pulled it out and clutched it to my chest for a moment as I took a deep breath. Every page, every word, weighed heavily on me. This book held the truth and I was bound by it now. My life has changed forever by the dark secrets it contained.

Yet, there was an unmistakable presence that lingered behind. My eyes immediately landed on the disarray of belongings scattered around—a half-folded sweater draped over a chair, a pen precariously close to rolling off the edge of the desk, and a small leather book shoved clumsily behind a lamp. As I stepped closer, curiosity got the best of me. I pulled the book out, brushing away a thin layer of dust that had settled on top. It was a diary—Reya's diary. My heart dropped. I opened it carefully, flipping through the pages filled with notes from class, doodles of flowers and strange symbols, and the margins packed with her thoughts—snippets of poetry, quotes she adored, and random observation

Something about the tablet caught my eye—it looked alarmingly familiar. It was mine. She was flipping through it with complete disregard, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth every so often, as if mocking what she saw. "Give it back!" I cried, rushing forward in a panic, reaching out to snatch it from her. That tablet had no password. It contained important files, countless photos, and worst of all—my personal diaries, chronicling years of memories with Cassian, all the private little confessions and foolish daydreams I had never dared to say out loud.

"Dear Diary, I did it. I spent an entire day naked, and it was the most liberating experience of my life. I felt so free, so uninhibited. I did everything naked – watched TV, ate, cleaned the house, even danced around like a fool. And you know what? It was amazing. I felt sexy and powerful and alive. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might do it again sometime. Maybe next weekend. Wish me luck!" I close the diary and take a sip of my coffee, smiling to myself. I know I'm probably the only person in the world who would find this kind of thing exciting, but that's okay. I've always been a little different, a little wild. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

*Brief Introduction. *Book name: Dynamic Diary of Tee. *Author name: Omah Susan. *Dedication This book is dedicated to all my loyal fans so far who had in one way or the other encouraged me. *AL RIGHTS RESERVED ® No part of this book should be republished or uploaded in any other website nor app without the author's consent. Be warned. This story is partially a true life story as it is a book. Also, the names of the characters are randomly selected and is entirely out of the blues.