Sharp Nails Palace Novels & Stories

Diana's POV - Johnson walked into the dungeon with his slave at night. We curled up on the dungeon bed. Johnson's slave painted her nails the color of red, she had requested permission to apply, and Johnson constantly was given this smooth, adoring appearance whilst his slave requested for small things as that. Johnson's slave painted her nails whilst there has been a knock at the door. She stared at the door with me, raising her nail polish. She'd faster maim herself than mar the color of red her Master cherished.

One would have the illusion that they were in a palace. The floor was covered with black marble, and the tiles were as shiny as a mirror. There was a gorgeous crystal chandelier, a glass Gabon ebony table, branded cushioned chairs from overseas, a delicately carved bookshelf, and all kinds of custom-made luxury goods from all around the world. Even a rich woman like Barb Sears was making sounds of awe when she saw the inside of First Palace. She wanted so badly to be the person who lived here. “Hey, I’m going to the restroom.”

“To hold your hair back when I’m fucking you bent over my table later today. Let your hair down, but pin it out of the way. Come to me soon, my baby.” My core clenches and my cheeks redden at Mason’s dirty words. How can he manage to make innocent hair pins look so incredibly dirty? Next is a box of shoes. I pull it open to reveal the most intricately designed navy blue pumps. Woven flowers dotted with blinking diamonds decorate the back of each shoe, just above the heels. Something tells me those are real diamonds. Another note, “See those heels?” I pause to look at the straight, pointy heels. Walking in them might hurt a little bit.

A man in horn-rimmed glasses smirked into his cocktail. My nails bit into my palms hard enough to leave crescent moons. "Don't react. Don't give them the satisfaction." But then Alessandra's gaze flicked to my shoes dyed black Payless heels with the soles reglued three times. "Oh my God." Her laughter rang out, high and shrill as a car alarm. "Are those from the "children's" section?" Something inside me "snapped."

The atmosphere in the boutique salon was serene, with soft music playing in the background and the gentle hum of conversation from other clients creating a soothing backdrop. My nails, meticulously shaped into perfect almond forms, were a true work of art. The length was just right, neither too long to hinder practical tasks nor too short to lack elegance. The base color, a soft and translucent nude, served as a sophisticated foundation that enhanced the intricate designs layered on top.

It irked me to see others with their mates while I frantically searched for her. "It's so majestic and beautiful," Karica exclaimed from my side as her stunned eyes roamed the palace ahead. Thadieus had taken a profound interest in building this palace after mating with my step-sister Shaline. It was a timeless modern-day palace with cutting-edge technology mingled with archaic architecture and design. A perfect blend of silver glass and pastel-coloured marble. It was adorned with sleek lines and reflective surfaces, giving it a contemporary and opulent appearance. The palace was bathed in a soft, enchanting glow from the strategically placed artificial lights.

Fragments of last night's heated entanglement in the lake and the unrestrained kisses crashed into my mind like shards of a broken mirror. "Fine,"I conceded with a helpless bitter smile, shrugging as if admitting defeat, my tone soft and compliant."You're the boss-you make the rules." A faint smile tugged at Alexander's lips. He stepped aside to clear the way. "There are new slippers in the shoe cabinet." I followed his instructions, slipping into the slippers before stepping into the top-floor penthouse of Sandalwood Palace. The space was spacious and open, decorated in minimalist and cold tones of gray and white with clean, sleek lines.

"Your hair, ma’am—sleek. Elegant. Fierce." A hand threaded through my blonde waves, twisting, pinning, securing—tight but precise. The style was flawless, the updo polished but lethal. A few deliberate loose strands framed my silver-blue eyes, softening the danger in them just enough. "Shoes," I ordered. My sleek black box appeared before me. Jimmy Choo. The stoned heels glimmered as they were slipped onto my feet. My toes flexed, testing the razor-sharp stiletto points.

A pregnant woman like her wasn't suited for a manicure. The duo sat down in the nail salon and a pungent smell of perfume wafted their noses. It was so strong that it was repulsive. Pinching her nose, Mia looked across her shoulder to see a familiar person. She knew that it wasn't common for someone to wear so much perfume. It was Shelly! Shelly's high heels clicked as she approached the duo. She sneered, "Mia, do you know how much it costs to get your nails done here? If you can't afford it, don't even try to step foot into the place. It's not a place for you."

Taleela's POV D-Day has finally arrived. My penthouse is bustling with designers and make-up artists. Jimmy Choo delivered two absolutely beautiful pairs of heels; a champagne coarse glitter fabric pointy toe pumps and a pair of crystal-covered pumps. Nikolai, who arrived a few minutes ago, has left for the venue of the gala while I get prepared. I have no idea why he brought a spa team. When I refused moments ago, he told me that my skin looks sallow.