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The Silk House Novels & Stories
Here are 100 books like the silk house for you to read online. Readers who enjoyed the silk house may also like the following books featuring futuristic violence and fancy suits, pampered by the ruthless underground boss, revenge, served in a black dress. Start your reading from Crossing Lines at GoodNovel!
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Crossing Lines
I slid in without looking back.
They could keep whispering.
I’d be the one wearing him tonight.
Cross House South shimmered under the setting sun, the sharp edges of glass and steel catching fire in the amber light. Inside, the silence throbbed like a held breath—tense, electric, aware.
The black silk dress clung to my body like a secret. Every curve, every dip of skin it touched, came alive beneath its weight. The plunging neckline, the open back, the thigh-high slit—it wasn’t a gown. It was a warning. A promise. A weapon.
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The Master's Child
A dark rectangular outline on the woodwork marks a missing fingerplate.
But the drilled hole in the wood remains, where the cylinder once passed through, now more or less blocked by a mass of cobweb. A small tunnel curving into the mass of silk suggests that its owner lurks inside, presumably waiting for lunch to arrive. Strands of silk pass across the doorframe, some anchored to the door itself, and as I gently push, they stretch, then snap, rebounding to lay ghostly fingers over my face and lips.
Swiping at my mouth, tentatively, I ease inside, but...
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Three Alphas, One Luna
I could taste bile on my tongue.
Henry knelt beside me, his calm presence a sharp contrast to my rising panic. He examined the silk threads caught on the door’s splintered frame. “This is no ordinary break-in,” he observed quietly, eyes dark with concern. “See how the threads sparkle? Enchanted silk, meant to dull the senses. Someone planned this carefully.”
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The Silent Wife
When he finished, I whispered, “Thank you for trusting me.”
He took my hand, eyes glistening. “I’m done running. From the past, from danger… from us.”
I smiled, tears slipping down my cheeks. “Me too.”
The days grew darker.
Veronica’s threats escalated.
Late at night, our safe house was rocked by shattering glass.
Justin grabbed a baseball bat; I grabbed a kitchen knife.
We stood back to back, ready to fight.
But the intruders never came inside.
Just a note pinned to the door.
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One Night With A Billionaire Alpha
She glared at Silas, who smirked back at her.
“Many guys have called me beautiful; it's not something new,” Tabitha answered. Hearing her response, Silas nodded and took her hand again.
The house wasn't a mansion; it was a large contemporary house with what Tabitha believed to be two bedrooms. It had the appearance of a house owned by someone who values solitude and personal space.
Silas crouched down and brought out slippers for her to wear after putting on his own. He also offered to remove the heels from her feet.
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Silent Whispers
I sighed in relief when I saw the couch on the other side of the room was empty. No Barbarian in sight. I took a moment to really look around the room. The gold trimmings on the curtains, the bedding, everywhere—it was all so luxurious.
“ Knock! Knock! “
Merilla's voice suddenly echoed in my head.
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PREGNANT FOR THE ALPHA I NEVER MET
"Your house? Last I checked, Martha lives here. This isn't—"
"It is my house," Millie cut him off, her tone leaving no room for argument. "It was built with my mother's money. Paid for with my mother's legacy. It always was mine, and it always will be. And now I'm taking it back. Along with everything else you and your pathetic wife tried to steal."
The little boy…her son…moved closer to her, his small hand finding hers like he instinctively knew she needed anchoring. He looked up at Silas with those unnervingly intelligent eyes, studying him the way a scientist studies something under a microscope.
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She Rose from the Ashes
When Silas returned home, it was the first time he truly took a good look at the riverside villa he had bought with the Campbells' money. The place had a lavish French-style interior, crystal chandeliers, and floor-to-ceiling windows that opened to a dazzling night view of the river.
He walked into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. Inside hung Wynter's clothes, and an entire cabinet was stuffed with designer handbags. A wave of disgust rose in Silas' chest. Without hesitation, he threw everything out—every single piece.
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The Housekeeper's Claim
After hearing him out, Daniel and I decided to drive home overnight.
Before we left, Great-Uncle Harold added that once the spirit-bound blood disappeared, she would suffer retaliation from the infant’s soul. As for what kind of retaliation, he didn’t say.
By the time we reached home, it was already past midnight.
Once inside, we turned on the lights and found the sculpture in the northwest corner of the living room. We used a power saw to cut it open.
Sure enough, at the base of the sculpture was a transparent sealed vial.
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Don't Stop, Daddy
Chapter 46 – The Poisoned Thread
The morning sun cut through the tall windows of the Steele penthouse, but even the light seemed heavy. It spread across marble counters, polished wood, silver fixtures all gleaming perfection. Yet the air itself felt suffocating, thick with invisible threads that clung to Sierra’s skin.
1017.5K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 543 Times as the silk house
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Frequently Asked Questions
The House is this surreal, almost dreamlike animated anthology that totally stuck with me after watching. It's split into three distinct stories, each with its own vibe but all centered around this eerie, ever-shifting house. The first tale feels like a dark fairy tale—a poor family gets offered a lavish new home by this mysterious architect, but there’s a terrifying catch. The second story is this absurdist comedy about a rat developer obsessed with flipping the house for profit, and things spiral into chaos. The third? A post-apocalyptic scenario where the house is the only thing left in a flooded world, and the tenant’s clinging to it like a life raft. The animation style shifts with each story, from stop-motion to something more fluid, which adds to the uncanny feel. It’s one of those films where you’re left piecing together metaphors—about greed, belonging, and how homes can haunt us.
What I love is how it doesn’t spoon-feed you. The house becomes this character itself, warping to reflect the obsessions of whoever’s inside. By the end, I was staring at my own walls wondering if they’d ever felt so... alive.
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