Empty Eyes

Each story unfolds in a high-risk, everyday-turned-sinful location that heightens the taboo and intensity: family holiday homes, corporate offices after dark, suburban backyards and windows, quiet suburban houses during family trips, empty conference rooms, sacred camp chapels, broken-down vehicles in remote woods, celebrity VIP lounges, shared college apartments, dorm rooms left unlocked.

They say the perfect crime leaves no witnesses. But what happens when the victim refuses to stay dead? On the happiest day of her life, she was betrayed by the only person she trusted. He took her fortune. He erased her name. He watched her burn and toasted to her memory. He thinks he is safe. He thinks the past is buried six feet under. But what if the grave was empty? Three years later, a mysterious woman walks into his life. She is everything he desires: powerful, beautiful, and dangerous. She knows his secrets before he speaks them. She knows his weaknesses before he shows them. He is drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unaware that she is the very fire he tried to extinguish. He thinks he’s found a new partner. He has no idea he is shaking hands with his own executioner. She is standing right in front of him, wearing a stranger’s face but holding a dead woman’s grudge. How long can a murderer look into the eyes of his victim without realizing who she is? And when the mask finally slips... will he have time to scream?

My son spiked a sudden high fever, scorching like a flame under my touch. I frantically dialed 911 for help, but the dispatcher on the line kept repeating questions, dragging it out. By the time the ambulance siren finally wailed in the distance, my son had already grown cold and still in my arms. Less than a year later, my husband and I split up amid endless grief and finger-pointing. I dragged on like an empty shell until one day I got an e-invite to his wedding. The moment I clicked the voice message, my blood ran cold. The bride's voice echoed exactly like that sluggish dispatcher from back then. In a breakdown, I bolted out of the house and got caught in the path of a speeding subway train, plunging me into darkness. When I opened my eyes again, my son's cries pierced the air from the next room, his forehead blazing hot against my palm. My husband thrust the phone toward me. "Quick, call 911! I'll grab a cold compress." My hands trembled as I dialed, and a chillingly familiar voice answered, "Hello, 911 emergency services."

( Dark Romance 18 + ) "You loved to get hard right! Is it only by me or do you have desire to get by some random."- He husked in a seductive tone. Your heart squeezed inside your chest hearing his venomous words. A tear escaped from your eye. He bought his finger and wipeed the escaped tear from your eye. "Why don't you want? So you want only my d** inside you. Yea!! That is why you are only mine, mine to have, mine to Fu**.Right?”- His grips around your waist become tight earning a small gasp. "Why are you wasting your precious tears like this when you know how much you need for the next hour."- His voice resonated. She looked at him with empty eyes; some time it amazed her that at what extents can someone hates other. Again another tear rolled down from her green eyes, his each word breaking her heart into million pieces. "You know right? I have never disappointed you while we are in my room; I have tried in every possible way to satisfy you on my bed and besides I gave you my words that…” He thrusted his face closer to me, and gritted his teeth, “…I will make your life a living hell.” Tears were streaming from her eyes. Her heart , her soul, her body he tainted everything with no shame no regret. This was the life she was living for the past two years only to hope that one day everything will be alright, but that day never come and now she had doubt will it ever be. Without another word he lifted her in his strong arms and his dark blue eyes seemed to penetrate the very depths of her soul. “So let's get you in my room, hmm.”

Ruling his land with all his heart, he did no wrong but ended up falling his reign for a sin he never did. "Your Majesty, Do you have any last words for your people?" Being humiliated like a criminal who purged innocents, do he really deserve to recieve such disgrace? “Your homeland whom you loved… your people whom you cherished… your knights and warriors whom you sharpened… such a great present to receive…” Not a curse to bless upon them who have wronged him, not a words begging for his life, on his last breathe, the king accepted his fate. 'I have gave them what I can give. What kind of a ruler am I if I would hurt those whom I serve?' With the hands of his own child, the prince of the kingdom, his life ended in a flash. The last thing he can hear was the shouting of people, celebrating as if it was something to look forward. As he saw such sight… his eyes lit no light of hope… Huff huff huff “Good thing you are finally awake, hurry up before the others empty the bins” “Where… am I?“

After six years together, Serena Kline discovered the love she trusted had been nothing but a lie. Her husband seized her father’s company and coldly handed her the divorce papers, as if she had never mattered at all. “You never loved me?” she asked. Nathaniel, her husband, looked at her with no trace of love left in his eyes and said, “Never.” With no hope left for her marriage, Serena walked away with empty arms and a fierce will to rebuild her life. *** Nathaniel Thorne believed he was prepared to lose anything to get retribution. But vengeance came with a cost he never understood until it was too late. When fate brought him into the same room with Serena again, he prepared himself for the rage, for her retaliation, but instead, Serena calmly asked, “So… was it worth it? Your ultimate revenge?” “I’m doing well,” he answered plainly, hiding the truth behind his commanding facade. Serena smiled, beautiful in a way that made his chest tighten. “Then, I’m happy for you. Peace and closure look good on you.” Her words landed sharper than she intended. Because the truth was, he had never found the peace she spoke of.

“Not so fast, Clarence,” Damon sneered. He yanked my wheelchair toward the balcony, pressing a button that lowered the guardrail into the floor. Now, I was teetering dangerously close to the edge. With one hand gripping the chair, keeping one wheel hanging over empty space, he shoved the divorce papers in my face. “You thought you could run to your mother’s lawyer?” he said, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “Think again. You’re signing these papers, Clarence, and you’re leaving with nothing.” His smirk widened. “Or… you can join your parents on the other side.” --- Betrayed, crippled, and left penniless, Clarence is discarded for her sister by the man she sacrificed everything for—Damon Ferdinand. But when her ruthless ex-boyfriend, Dr. Julian Blackwood, reappears, he offers her a lifeline and a chance to reclaim what was stolen. With Julian’s power and influence, Clarence rises from the ashes, determined to exact revenge on her ex-husband and deceitful sister. But standing in her way is Kristina, Julian’s possessive fiancée. As old wounds resurface and lines blur between past regrets and new beginnings, Clarence is faced with the ultimate question: Can she truly find love in the arms of the man she once abandoned? Or is she merely playing with fire, risking the same heartbreak that once left her in ruins?

I kept it hidden from the entire Moonshadow Pack — the private mate contract I signed with Darren, the current Alpha. Every time he rushed off to spend the heat season with his Omega childhood sweetheart, the wolf inside me howled in agony, tearing itself apart. Every time, he would whisper his empty promises, "Once she's stable, we'll hold the Luna crowning ceremony." For three years, he made that promise ninety-nine times — and skipped the ceremony ninety-nine times. The first time, her wolf died unexpectedly, and he claimed the Moon Goddess had forbidden the ceremony. The second time, her heat struck suddenly, and he abandoned me, throwing himself into her bed. After that, every time there was supposed to be a ceremony, something happened to her — and somehow, he was always right there by her side. Every time, I broke down, screaming, drowning in heartbreak. However, he always looked down on me, his voice calm, detached: "She's just a temporary mate for physical needs. You should understand." After the ninety-ninth broken promise, the wolf inside me finally went silent. I placed a "Mate Contract Termination Application" on his desk. "From now on, in the eyes of the Moon Goddess, I'm no longer yours in any way."

My best friend Seraphine had not one drop of blood left in her body when they found her. Her skin was translucent. There were two dried trails of blood from the corners of her mouth, like she had wept herself empty long before the end. She left one note. One sentence: "Vera saw his face." From that day forward, I became the Covenant's greatest sinner. Because I knew who did it. But I said nothing. For ten years, I said nothing. Then Lucian came back. He was the one who had turned us, raised us, given us the only home we had ever known. He set the Soul Prism in front of me. "Tonight," he said, "you give me the killer." His eyes hadn't changed. That was the worst part. After ten years of exile, of stones and fire and nights that never got warmer, I looked at him and he was still exactly who he had always been to me. "Or you disappear from this world along with him." He didn't know. The reason I had chosen exile and starvation and a Blood Oath that had been eating my soul core alive for a decade — was him. All of it, always, had been for him.

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.