Face In The Closet Novels & Stories

Beyond rage, I felt tears threatening to spill. After smoothing down my newly changed gown, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what I was about to do. Under Max Davis's stunned gaze, I stormed over and shoved the woman hard. She slammed against the wall before sliding to the floor, knocking over a wine glass that drenched her outfit. As she screamed, I turned and slapped Max across the face. I said coldly, "Care to explain how you plan to tie my hands?"

Look presentable. His words echo in my mind, a sad bitter laugh escapes my lips as I walk into the massive walk-in closet. I haven’t seen Clara. I guess it’s his orders for her not to come. I stare at the extravagant, revealing dresses Lorenzo’s staff has stocked up the closet with. I choose a high-neck, long sleeve dress that perfectly covers the bruise on my throat. I dry my hair, leaving it down to fall on my hips, then I arrange my bangs properly. I walk to the dresser and pick up a concealer, I’ve never liked makeup but I need to conceal the marks of his hand on my face. I apply a little, letting it hide the marks. When I am done, I light up a weak smile.

he pleaded with me. “You need to hide inside the closet, wait until she has left , then come out,” he explained quickly as he pushed me inside the closet, I fidgeted until my tiny body fitted in the wooden box. He closed in quickly and left a small crack which I could see everything through. Immediately I’d jumped inside the closet than the door burst open and a striking women walked through. I gasped at her beauty, her spotless shiny skin shone under the ambiance of the room just like and seen her on top of him. I felt a wave of annoyance grow inside of me.

I whisper-shouted from inside my closet while trying to recover my dignity. Talking to him from inside the closet felt safer somehow. If I looked directly at his face too long, my brain stopped working properly. “You didn’t come to me,” he replied easily. “So I came for you.” My stomach flipped again. This Lycan was genuinely messing with my head.

I turn around to find him walking in my walk-in closet. I eye him as he go through my clothes. He takes my white loose blouse from the rack with a pair of ripped shorts. When he turns around to look at me, he throws the clothes which hits my face perfectly. I groan before throwing it on the floor. He keeps on growing through my closet to pick up my black heels which has a strap. He throws the heels toward me and I manage to move away before it could hit my face again.

I bolted into the massive, walk-in closet, my heart hammering against my ribs. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I was beyond mortified. How could I ever face the staff or Jared again? Desperate to cover myself, I scanned the racks of clothes and grabbed a luxurious, deep red silk robe hanging on a hook. I threw it over my shoulders, tying the belt tightly around my waist. Just as I was about to walk into the bathroom to wash my face, the doors of the bedroom opened again. I stepped back out of the closet, expecting to see Sarah. Instead, a tall, incredibly handsome man with messy blonde hair and a permanent, cocky smirk stood in the doorway.

I realize that I was never hidden from Felix, I have always been the hunted and now I’m within the grasp of my pursuer, Felix Yeats, who coldly smiles as he senses my presence in the closet. Despite the search being called off by his PA, who respectfully reports the failure to find me, Felix Yeats's gaze remains fixed on the closet, indicating his unwillingness to let me go. He knows I’m hiding somewhere in this room, he’s staring right at the closet, making me feel like I’ve been made already.

he grunted, as if I were an underpaid stagehand interrupting his rehearsal. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. I slipped inside, eyes fixed firmly on the top shelf where the bleach usually sat, doing my best not to step on any discarded clothing or… fluids. The closet was narrow, the air thick with the sour-sweet tang of too many overlapping perfumes, and I had to brush past them more than once just to reach the mop bucket. Each time, I felt a prickle under my skin, like standing too close to a live wire of hormones. “Close the door on your way out,” Fitch drawled lazily, his voice low, commanding—almost predatory. The kind of tone that made half the girls here swoon and the other half sharpen

Drinks and snacks on the side table that I would be serving gleefully on my hands and knees. And I'd chosen the outfit myself. It was just a sheer robe that covered nothing. I had on no underwear. My breasts were visible through the fabric. And the robe's single tie at the waist was the only thing between me and being fully exposed. Then the knock came at nine on the dot. And four hefty men filed in one by one, all of them wearing Ghostface masks… just the way I wanted. I would never see their faces. That was part of it. Because I wanted the anonymity… the vulnerability of being the only woman and the only one in the room whose face was known.

The room was stunning, decorated in rich colors and textures. A large bed dominated the space, with luxurious linens and an array of pillows that seemed to invite relaxation. A massive walk-in closet stood to one side, its doors slightly ajar. I hadn’t paid attention or noticed this other wardrobe before, when I’d looked into the empty closet earlier. Curiosity stirred within me as I walked over, peering inside. What awaited me was nothing short of overwhelming. The closet was filled with a vast array of clothing—everything from casual wear to elegant dresses and, yes, seductive pieces that made my cheeks flush with embarrassment.