Marceline's Closet Novels & Stories

Lia: The steam clung to my skin as I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in the robe that was in the bathroom. I knew that it was a new one, a fresh one to be exact. But I didn’t know whether or not I was allowed to use it. I just knew that I wouldn’t walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. For a moment, I just stood there, unsure of what I was walking into. Marcel looked up from where he stood near the balcony doors. His gaze flicked over me once, quick, assessing, and then he spoke like nothing about this situation was strange.

After a brief pause, Marcelo snapped a photo of the toothpastes with his phone, sending it to Chad along with a message: "Get toothpastes for Renee based on these." In the master bedroom's vast walk-in closet, Renee’s clothes were arranged on the left side. As she reached for her outfit for the next day, she noticed a cabinet filled with new women's clothing. The assortment included various brands and styles, all untagged and in her size. Renee was taken aback. "You don't like them?"His cool voice interrupted her thoughts. "They are all... for me?" As the words left her lips, Renee realized the absurdity of her question.

That night I can barely sleep, tomorrow is Friday so I just have to wait one more day till I find out what Carlos has in store for me. The next day drags on, my thoughts are too preoccupied to sketch and Marcels babbling rampage of thoughts and historical facts seem to be in full action all day long make the day feel even more long. When 8pm hits Marcel claps his hands together "I know, let's go get you something nice to wear for tomorrow" I cross my arms and frown at his words "I don't even know where I'm going or what I'm doing, how will I know what to wear?!" I proclaim "well there's no harm in showing up looking your best" he says and quickens his pace ahead towards a bundle of clothing

Marcel looked over at where she gestured but found nothing. "What?" "This!" Abigail gestured at the clothes arranged on some of the racks haphazardly. Marcel squinted, trying to understand what Abigail was talking about..his eyes widened when he came to the realization that hanging.on some of the racks were his clothes. "Are those...?" "What are your clothes doing in my closet Marcel?" She slowly turned to him, gritting every word out like she was chewing on something hot. "You can't possibly think this was my doing..."

He didn't want anything that would remind him of Elara especially when he was in a state like that. "I'd rather not." He said, dismissing Theron. He rose from his throne and left the throne room, headed back for his chambers, seeking refuge, but what he found ruined his mood even more. Marceline laid provocatively on his bed. She was a vision of carefully cultivated allure, a body that seemed sculpted from sinuous curves, she laid there in her silk robe that did little to conceal her ample assets. Her expression was a hint of desperation and expectation. "What are you doing here Marceline?" Ronan asked as he slammed his door shut. "What do you want?" He asked in an impatient tone.

It was replaced by built-in cabinets in an off-white finish. Every trace of my life, from books, awards, to pictures, was missing. The space was now furnished with clothes, bags, and shoes. My room in the apartment I had paid for had been converted into Cass’ walk-in closet.

I put on the nightwear and stole a quick glance at the mirror before following the guards. We got to a massive door, and with a tap on the security panel, it slid open. I walked in to see a very large room. It was intentionally decorated black. The only hint of brightness came from touches of ash, while the furniture carried just a trace of brown. “My dear wife, it’s going to be a long night of pleasure, right?” Marcello’s voice echoed in the silent room.

Susanna let out a bitter laugh, but before she could say anything, Marceline called out to the maids. “Clara! Grace!” Within seconds, the maids had appeared, their heads bowed. “You called, madam?” one of them asked. Marceline’s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a dangerous tone even though her eyes never left Susanna. “You two will help Susanna clear out her things out of the room. I don’t want to see even a stray earring lying around when you’re done.” “Yes, ma’am.” The maids nodded again, before moving past Susanna and entering the bedroom. From where I stood, I could hear a box being unzipped.

The ever-aloof devil she was now legally bound to. The maids had already vanished, like ghosts slipping through the walls, leaving behind a steaming tray of breakfast on the table—far too extravagant for one person. Marceline padded across the room, her bare feet brushing against the marble floor, cold and indifferent like everything in this mansion. She walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a short, lilac chiffon dress that barely brushed her thighs. She turned, clutching the dress to her chest, intending to return to the bathroom. That’s when his voice sliced through the silence.