Mha Sketches 소설 & 이야기

This is a diary of dark, depraved thoughts. Turn the page if you dare. *** *** She’s a secret erotic artist. Behind closed doors, she sketches the same man over and over again—filthy, dangerous, and forbidden. Then she sells the drawings to the black market to pay for her mother’s medical bills and her sister’s college tuition. It should be simple. Except the man in those drawings isn’t a stranger. He’s Dominic—her father’s best friend. Every sinful stroke of her brush chips away at her innocence and poisons her love life. Every relationship she tries to build ends the same way—ruined by a man who doesn’t even know she’s obsessed with him. Until the night everything goes wrong. She wants to stop, wants a fairytale love life, but she owes her anonymous collectors one more portrait. Determined to make one final drawing of her darkest fantasy, she locks herself in her studio… only for Dominic to walk in and see the explicit portraits displayed across her walls. Her secret should destroy her. Instead, Dominic makes her a far more dangerous deal. For 365 days, she’ll work for him as his obedient secretary—and in return, he’ll keep her scandalous secret buried. But the closer she gets to the man she’s spent years drawing in the dark, the harder it becomes to remember one thing: Some fantasies should never come to life.

The Rowan estate has stood for centuries, its walls bearing witness to generations of triumph, tragedy, and a quiet, inescapable weight. Known for influence and misfortune, the Rowans guard a secret: the house is a memory vessel, absorbing the emotions and events of its inhabitants. Only one child per generation—“the one who carries it”—feels its imprint. For Jace Rowan, that child is him. Haunted by flashes of his brother Elias’s mysterious death in the sealed west wing, Jace lives with hallucination-like memories, déjà vu, and a physical sensitivity to the house’s presence. When Ava arrives at the estate, the house takes notice. Her father’s disappearance connects her unknowingly to the Rowans, and her grief fuels an emotional resonance the house cannot ignore. Objects from her past—her father’s watch, sketches of the west wing, and a brass key—materialize mysteriously before her, drawing Ava deeper into the estate’s labyrinth of memory. Jace knows the danger: the west wing reacts to emotion, and Ava’s connection could awaken truths meant to remain buried. As tension mounts, Ava and Jace confront both the house’s power and their own growing fears. The west wing does not seek to harm but to claim understanding—feeding on memory, fear, and revelation. In the shadows, a presence lingers, one that Jace fears is connected to Ava’s father. Bound by fear, curiosity, and an unspoken attraction, Ava and Jace must navigate a house that remembers, reacts, and judges, uncovering secrets about Elias’s death, Ava’s father, and the legacy of the Rowan family itself. In a world where emotion is power and the past is never truly gone, the house holds its breath—and waits to see who will survive its memory.

"Look at the target, Gabe," Derek hissed, his voice a low vibration that settled in my bones. "Imagine it's my heart. Imagine you are finally putting me out of my misery." I was trapped between the cold metal of a gun and the burning heat of his body. My finger trembled on the trigger, but I couldn't pull it. My name is Gabriel. To the world I am the nerdy quiet university student. To Derek Miller, I am his toy. He found my secret sketchbook, page after page of his naked body drawn with obsessive detail. Now, he uses those sketches to keep me on a leash blackmailing me whenever he wants a taste of my dignity. But the nightmare was only beginning. When my religious mother announced she was marrying Derek’s billionaire father my world shattered. My bully wasn't just a ghost from campus anymore, he was my stepbrother. We share a room. We share a bathroom and now my body. He is everywhere I breathe. He claims me. He insults me. He treats me like trash. And the sickest part? I have realized I loved it rough. Our obsessive love is impossible. My mother would disown me, the Miller name would be tarnished, and Derek’s tough love is starting to leave scars I can't hide. Just as I am about to break, a new guy enters the picture someone who promises to love me softly. Someone who doesn't smell like gin and danger. But in the dark world of the Millers, safety is a lie. Now I have to choose: Do I run toward a peaceful future, or do I stay with the devil I already know?

After my parents died in a car crash, my cousin stole the compensation money and moved overseas to start a business. My aunt begged me on her knees not to call the police. Then, she locked me in a dark basement for three months. I was close to breaking down and ending my life when Julien Lawson, the neighbor’s son, broke down the basement door and saved me. “Joyce, what they did is unforgivable! They stole the compensation money for your parents’ deaths. You were going to use it to open your own studio! “Marry me. I’ll protect you.” He was the only person who cared about me after my parents died. I was so grateful that I married him and had his child. I worked three jobs during the day to help support the orphanage that Julien ran. At night, I took care of our child and created design sketches. But no matter how hard I tried, none of my work was ever accepted. Even though Julien told me to keep at it, I felt discouraged and thought of giving up on my design career to focus on our family. One day, our child was sick. I went to take over the shift from Julien when I overheard him talking to my aunt on the stairs. “Julien, it’s been ten years. Joyce’s designs are getting better and better. She even passed the first round of the national competition. Are you really not going to tell her about the next round?” my aunt asked. Her voice trembled. Julien said coldly, “For years, I’ve been sending Joyce’s design sketches to Mindy to copy and enter in the competitions or publish as her own. “To help Mindy’s career, I can’t let Joyce move on to the next round. “Joyce has talent. If people notice her, she’ll be a threat to Mindy’s career!”

For six years, Medea Watts believed her marriage to Gordon Begum had remained purely platonic because he was naturally repulsed by intimacy. That was, until she witnessed the intimacy he shared with another woman. He ignored her completely after her near-death ordeal, choosing instead to celebrate the birthday of his first love’s daughter, the three of them looking every bit like a perfect family. Only then did Medea realize that the woman Gordon had never truly let go of was actually his late brother’s widow. All these years, he treated their marriage like a vow of abstinence, saving himself for the woman he truly loved. And in that moment, whatever love Medea had left for him finally died. Without hesitation, she filed for divorce. Gordon only sneered dismissively. “Even the York family, who raised her for years, no longer wants her. How could she possibly leave me?” To Gordon, Medea was simply a sheltered young woman the York family had spoiled and protected for years. She was beautiful, obedient, and utterly useless. He assumed her talk of divorce was nothing more than a childish tantrum. Yet Medea quietly obtained the divorce agreement and moved out of their home without a word. It wasn't until one of her design sketches went viral that her career took off, transforming her into one of the most talked-about rising designers in contemporary luxury fashion. Countless people admired and pursued her. Only then did Gordon realize how badly he underestimated her. With reddened eyes, he knelt before her and begged in a hoarse voice, “Dea, I’ve completely cut ties with Sharon. After everything we’ve shared over the years, can’t you give me one more chance?” The once untouchable man finally lowered his pride for love. But Medea merely lifted the hem of her dress and turned away, stepping directly into the embrace of the powerful head of the York family. The man wrapped an arm around her waist and said calmly, “Sorry, but if anyone has a claim on her, it's me. After all, in some sense, I raised her myself.”