Golden Closet Novels & Stories

Our bodies inches apart. "There's a coat closet behind you," I say. "Find out." The coat closet is tiny. Dark. Smells like mothballs and old fur and someone's grandmother's perfume. There are coats on hangers pressing against us from both sides and a shelf above digging into my shoulder and the door doesn't lock – just a brass knob and a prayer. I don't care about any of it because his mouth is on mine.

I went to shower and after changing to my satin pajama set I got to bed and took my phone to scroll down but one thing caught my attention. Owner of Estelle Couture,gold digger or not. Bingo.

I said. “Why? It isn't closing hours yet,” She replied adamantly. “I said we're done,” I replied sternly, then she stood and packed up the files, as she shoved them back into their shelves, picked up her bag and car key, and she walked out, without even saying goodbye. “Rude brat." I cursed under my breath. Confirming she had left, I stood up and walked over to the wall, pressed a button, and the wall divided into two, making way for me to go into my secret lodge.

Audrey Edwin flicked on the light, revealing what had been hidden inside the closet this whole time: sewing paradise. Well, it wasn’t just a closet—it was an entire workroom for sewing. Bolts of fabric lined the walls in a rainbow of colors and textures, a large cutting table dominated the center, and in the corner stood a mannequin with a half-finished suit pinned to it.

Nothing looked out of place—my worn couch, the coffee table cluttered with Felicity's books, and the science experiment that she was working on. “Where is it?” Logan asked. “Bedroom closet,” I said, already moving toward it. Harris stayed near the front door, keeping watch, while Logan followed me into the bedroom. I paused at the closet door, my hand hovering over the handle. My heart raced—not with fear, but because of what I was about to reveal. "This is where I keep everything," I said quietly, gripping the handle and pulling the door open. The closet looked ordinary at first glance—rows of neatly hung clothes, a few shoe boxes on the floor. But buried beneath the boring closet was a sys

I turned and fled from the room without a word, heading straight for the basement. Most of it was furnished into a large game room, complete with couches, tv’s, a large bar, and every kind of tabletop game there was. What most people didn’t know was that there was a secret door hidden behind the bar that led to the utility area for the Manor. And located there was a closet where my bedroom was, a very old set of washer and dryers, and a little bathroom.

There were two doors in the bedroom leading to heavens knows where, two large windows, one, of course, led to an open balcony that had a magnificent view of the vast expanse of green at the backyard and the other that showed what she assumed would be the aide of the house. One black couch was placed in front of a thick glass coffee table and a painting of the sea hung on the wall behind the couch. “June and I put in so much effort in making sure your room is as comfortable as possible,” Tabitha sounded as excited as an artist unveiling a recent masterpiece to the world. Tabitha pointed at the first door that was just a few steps away from the door they had walked through, “That is your close

It wasn’t a request. Claire followed. The closet was narrow, lined with shelves of gauze and saline bags, lit by a single bare bulb. Marcus stepped in after her, shut the door, and turned the lock. The click sounded final in the small space. For three heartbeats they just looked at each other.

Jake was already out, likely at the venue, and mom was downstairs dealing with the catering staff, I need to find out what I don't know. I slipped out of my room and crept towards the master shite. I pushed the door open and was met with Jake's scent mixed with my mom's. I headed straight to my mother's walk in closet that I have never been into since we started living here searching for anything that looked like a locker or a hidden safe. I moved aside rows of designer gowns, stacks of shoe boxes, bags, near the back, hidden behind a full length mirror, I saw it... A small, keypad locked safe built into the wall.

“I don’t want to check the cedar closet anymore.” Laughing, she straight-arms me, keeping me at bay long enough to duck out of my embrace and dance nimbly to the closet. “We’re already here. It’ll take two minutes.” Inside, several zippered protective garment bags of varying lengths hang tidily from the closet’s bar, with neatly stacked shoe boxes lining the shelves below. Starting with the longest bags, Grace pushes the rest aside, unzipping the first. Not finding what she seeks, she moves to the next.